Page 5 of The Reclusive Earl’s Scandal (Vows and Vanity #1)
“I will let you know,” he said, trying to sound casual. “It sounds good.” It sounded terrible. “I have quite a lot to do, what with my return and everything, but I will do my best.” Only his absolute best to find an excuse not to attend.
With a polite nod, he walked on and finally went to get his wine.
But before he could, a lady appeared at his side, reaching for the same wine glass he went for.
Her blonde hair was curled and tumbling over one shoulder, falling alongside the neckline of her dress.
Edward gave an awkward smile when he turned his head to face her.
“We both went for the same glass,” she noted, her voice slow yet calculated, as if she thought hard of what to say before she said it. “How unusual.”
“Indeed.” He went to move away, but she shifted with him. “You may have it. I must return to...”
“Or perhaps we could share,” the lady said quickly. “We could stand here for a moment and greet one another over a glass of wine?”
Edward glanced around, noticing how more people looked at the lady than him.
It relieved something in him, and hesitantly he nodded.
“Yes. Yes, that would be nice.” His answers sounded stiff, but he forced himself to try to relax.
“After all, I was going to return to my mother, but she is no doubt already discussing my poor behaviour tonight with the rest of the matrons.”
“Poor behaviour, my lord?”
“Her opinion of that is mostly me not being the first man to dance with a lady,” he muttered. “So, no, not poor as such, but to her I am definitely not exemplary tonight.”
“Well, you could always ask me to dance. We will not be the first couple, though, of course.” When he paused, she extended a hand to him. “Lady Catherine Browning.”
Edward’s brow raised. “You are Lady Catherine? The Marquess of Barrickshire’s daughter?”
“You speak as though you know me.” Her eyes lit up. “I do hope for good reasons.”
He thought of his promise to his sister. “It is rather amusing, actually, for I promised my very eager sister that I would meet you tonight.”
“Lady Elena,” she filled in, surprising him. “The two of us are good friends. We have met several times recently. All to have our womanly gossip, of course.” Lady Catherine’s eyelashes fluttered up at him. “There are many things that appear to be lining up in a very destined way, Lord…”
“Lord Thornshire,” he told her. “The Earl of Thornshire.” It was a good thing that she knew his sister because they could let people believe that they knew each other in order to avoid the scandal of being introduced alone.
Understanding at once flared in her expression, and she nodded. “Well, Lord Thornshire, it is most lovely to meet you. Perhaps we can fulfill your promise to your sister while we dance?”
She was trying hard, even if she was charming, clearly able to work her way into being considered by him. Edward gave another moment of thought before nodding. After all, his mother would see him making an effort as he had promised, and he could tell Elena he had done the one thing she asked.
“Allow me,” he said, offering his hand.
Besides, with everybody looking at Lady Catherine, it would take some of the pressure and attention off him. They would wonder about her successes, her previous Season, and not Edward’s tendency to be a recluse. Or perhaps they would...
“You look lost in thought, Lord Thornshire,” she noted, lifting a delicate, pale brow.
Heavens, she really was pretty, and Edward did admire her, but she rounded her eyes too much, as if her beauty was an emphasized effort when she was really quite naturally lovely.
He knew not to say such a thing, though.
The ladies all had their ways of wooing a man.
“I am,” he admitted. “I… Well, please do not think I am too presumptuous, but I was thinking about how people might look at us and wonder. I heard that your previous Season was cut short, and I have been reclusive since...” Since the death of my father.
The words got stuck, and he managed to say, “for a while.”
“Perhaps we are well-matched, then,” she suggested, once again segueing into another forceful effort of matching them too soon, too quickly.
Edward gave a quick smile before he spun her around the next curve of the dance floor, guiding her back down the length of it. “I do miss the countryside. I have been in London scarcely a full week and already miss Thornshire Hall.”
“What do you miss most?”
“The peace and quiet,” he answered, laughing quietly. “Everything here is too loud. Somebody is always yelling something or other. Mostly that is my sister, though.”
Lady Catherine’s laugh was too high for the meager jest he had made, and Edward had not even quite intended to be funny, but he gave an awkward chuckle in tandem.
“So, you prefer your solitude?”
Edward nodded. “But I did miss the cakes at balls, I must admit. One can pick plums in the countryside, but nothing compares to the plum cakes here.”
Again, Lady Catherine giggled, her response too great for the thing she had replied to.
Edward frowned, glancing away. Perhaps she thought he was trying too hard to be humorous, and she pitied him.
The thought sent a claw of anxiety striking through him.
Perhaps she simply thought she had a role to play: humor the suitor, make him feel as though he had done everything right.
Yet he knew of the games ladies had to play as well as his own, so he let it slide, and could only hope her more genuine side would emerge the longer they spent together.
“It has been so long since I have danced, I half feared I might forget how to,” he noted, peering down at his polished boots. He stepped well, confidently, and he ensured he kept a good grip on Lady Catherine to support her.
“You dance excellently, Lord Thornshire,” Lady Catherine praised. “Although I indeed understand the worry of forgetting the typical pace of a ball. As you mentioned, I did leave my last Season. I am certain you have heard enough rumours.”
There was a flicker of dismay in her eyes, and he caught hold of that fleeting moment, hoping for a spark with the genuine lady beneath.
“I have, but I dismiss them quickly, Lady Catherine. Rumours are tedious things. I do prefer true information coming directly from the person involved, so do not fear that you have been prematurely judged.”
Her brows rose in surprise, and a small smile tugged at her lips. But then the look was gone, and it was replaced by that poised, overly composed expression of flattery. “You are too kind, Lord Thornshire. I heard rumours of your own absence, but, well, as you said, rumours are tedious things.”
Edward was tempted to ask her what she thought of them anyway. Did she notice how his hands shook? Did she notice that he hadn’t spoken to anyone else at the ball, or that he hadn’t actually eaten from the refreshment table because his stomach felt too queasy with nerves?
And if she truly wanted to match with him did Lady Catherine understand she would be signing herself up for a life with a husband who would refuse social events?
For the moment he had nobody ordering him to do anything, the moment he escaped his mother’s authority and demand, he would do as he pleased to protect himself.
Lady Catherine looked at him as though she waited for him to confirm or deny the rumors.
Perhaps mine are true , he ought to say, to continue their conversation, to see what she made of it. But Edward only pulled back, aware he did so in the middle of their dance set, and went about mumbling an excuse of needing a moment.
He hurried away from her, claiming he needed air.
He found a spot empty enough that he could breathe, and far enough from his mother who searched for the ballroom for her place with other matrons.
Soon, he was accosted by more lords, other ladies waiting to be asked for a dance, asking questions, enquiring about his absence, sending their condolences regarding the late Earl of Thornshire.
It was all too much, and Edward fought through the attention, finally reaching the refreshment table where it promised at least a moment to sip wine and collect his thoughts.
He picked up his glass and made to find another quiet corner, his panic still making his hands shake.
In his hurry, he didn’t notice the lady standing behind him.
Edward collided with her, and despite his attempt to keep a handle on his glass, he watched in horror as the liquid spilled onto the lady’s beautiful gown.