Page 7 of The Reclusive Earl’s Scandal (Vows and Vanity #1)

I have to marry well , she thought. I cannot care if I love them or not. I will marry well, I will protect my siblings from my father’s mistake. I shall do my utmost best to fix it all.

She slid closer, making sure her elbow brushed against the arm of the young man.

He glanced at her, his eyes widening for a moment. “L-Lady Rebecca,” he greeted, bowing immediately. “How nice of you to join me.”

“Of course.” Her smile was in place. She had long perfected how to make it charming and natural without looking too put on. “I could not help but see you standing alone. A perfectly eligible lord such as yourself ought not to be alone, Lord Simon.”

“I have asked several ladies to dance, but it seems I am just a moment too late.” He shrugged. “What can one do, I suppose?”

“One can invite a duke’s daughter to be his first dance of the evening,” she suggested lightly, hoping her father’s rank would garner her more encouragement with the men.

“Then you must know it will be my honour, Lady Rebecca,” he said.

They hurried to the dance floor, eager to have their set. Rebecca danced with Lord Simon, and then Lord Trenby, and then Lord Jonathan. There was Lord Smithdown, and another man whose names she forgot. She charmed them easily, as she knew she could.

Heavens, I promised myself I would not return home until my feet ached from dancing. Would you care to indulge in my promise to myself?

The lights are glimmering brightly tonight, do you not think? Although, we may see them better from the dance floor.

I could not help but notice you had not yet danced. Perhaps you will allow me to change that?

Her suggestions were strategically placed, and Rebecca used every charm and wits she hadin order to garner attention.

Even when more eyes slid to her, whispers of perhaps she was one of the eligible ladies to fight for, made her beam with pride on herself.

All the while, her eyes strayed to Edward who remained on the outskirts of the dance floor.

There was always an element of restlessness to him.

He kept moving his hands, fidgeting with his tailcoat, adjusting his lapels, tapping the knuckles of his other hand.

She had never seen a lord appear so out of place in a ballroom.

So many of them reveled in the attention, enjoying how they were sought after by the debutantes and other women hopeful for another Season.

Yet Edward seemed a far cry from them, and it was as though he knew it, too.

“Lady Rebecca, do forgive me for pointing it out, but you seem quite distracted.”

Rebecca tore her focus from Edward, Lord Thornshire , she corrected herself, as would be proper, and refocused back on Lord… Heavens, she had forgotten his name. Perhaps Lord Matthew, or Mason, or something similar.

“Not at all,” she answered sweetly. “I was merely thinking about your—your business venture you mentioned. I think it is quite a wonderful thing, expanding the transportation concept to other countries that do not yet have it.”

“Indeed,” he said, looking smug. She knew how to make a man feel such things, as though he was on the cusp of the world. “Everybody shall know the Danby name.”

Danby… Danby— ah, Lord Mason Danby, the son of a marquess.

A very wealthy marquess who kept on funding his son’s business ventures, according to local gossip.

Rebecca had worked out that if she praised him for something his father likely largely disapproved of then he would be more willing to see her again.

“I have no doubt at all,” she said. “And with my father, the Duke of Bancroft, I am certain he would endorse such ventures. He has often said he wished for safer transport to be widely known.”

“Is that so?” The lord raised his brows. “Perhaps there should be some sort of partnership. Danby and Bancroft, a wonderful duo, no?”

It was a double entree, and Rebecca forced herself to blush, to giggle, to play the game she was annoyingly good at.

It was like donning a costume that suited her well.

She simply knew how to play the part. She didn’t entirely like possessing the charm she had inherited from her father, according to the stories her mother had told her, or playing this particular ballroom game, but she couldn’t deny her talent for it.

Yet she couldn’t help but hope that her attempts looked flattering and natural instead of a desperate girl’s need to save her family.

Nobody knows , she assured herself. Nobody will know.

But how long for?

Soon, her dance with Lord Mason ended, and he bowed to her.

She curtsied, hoping for some sort of comment about him coming to call upon her the following day.

His eyes glinted with excitement, but he said nothing.

Perhaps that was fine; some men preferred to provide a surprise, anyway.

Except a surprise wasn’t something Rebecca could handle right now.

She needed certainty; she needed plans .

Another moment passed between them of her waiting and Lord Mason saying nothing before she curtsied again.

Her eyes were already scanning for another man to approach, trying not to glance at Edward, who was now speaking with a group of men, one of whom was Lord Thomas.

Rebecca’s eyes met Edward’s, but she quickly averted them.

Instead of another lord, she made her way over to where Mary had just finished dancing with a young heir to a barony.

She was far too good for him, but Rebecca knew that Mary worried she was not good enough to strive for the more eligible lords.

Catherine’s smirk was already in place when Rebecca approached them.

“Well, well,” Catherine drawled, mischief in her eyes. “Look who has returned from the depths of charming her way through the whole ballroom.”

Rebecca laughed, dismissing her with a wave of her hand. “Not the whole ballroom,” she insisted.

“Just those worthy of your attention,” her friend jested. “Did any of them catch your eye?”

Rebecca just sighed and turned to lean back against the wall her friends stood at. Mary watched her

in anticipation, hope shining in her eyes.

“If I was not being picky then perhaps. However,…” However, it is hard to consider a husband that I know I will not love.

How unfair it was to go from planning her love match with Harry Maudley to now having to accept that her match would be one of convenience only for the man’s wealth.

“However?” Mary prompted.

“I do not really know,” she sighed. “I wish Harry could attend these events.”

“It would be good to consider that you would not attend them in future if you married him,”

Catherine delicately pointed out. “You would be a commoner.”

Somehow, that fact had never bothered Rebecca before, but now she had to think over such a thing as she gazed out at the ballroom.

Did she truly even enjoy these events or did she simply attend because it was what was expected of her?

She knew her role and place in society as the daughter of the Duke of Bancroft, and that was the part she would always play.

Even when she married, she would attend balls carrying his name, and his title.

But with Harry there would have been none of that.

She didn’t know. She didn’t know where he fit into her future anymore, and part of her felt that her games tonight betrayed him and the future they had never talked about but each privately thought.

At least Rebecca hoped he had. But then to hope that he had, only to know she would have to let him down, was that not unfair?

“I do not know about anything,” she admitted.

“Did you have fun with the suitors, at least?” Mary asked. “You smiled a lot, I noticed.”

Catherine scoffed. “Oh, please. A smile is the easiest thing to fake. One simply has to put it in place and let it work its charm.”

At that, Mary grimaced, but Rebecca thought she was trying to falsely smile. The two of them winced at the other friend, fighting back a giggle. But then Mary herself laughed, sighing.

“I danced with Lord Jonathan and greatly enjoyed myself,” Mary told them, her eyes turning outward, as if searching for him.

“Lord Jonathan is a terrible conversationalist.” Catherine frowned. “Did you not find him to be a little dull?”

“Oh, not at all!” Mary enthused. “In fact, we spoke about if Beethoven’s Minuet in G Major would be best reworked and...”

“Oh, Mary ,” Catherine groaned. “You shall bore the man away!”

Mary’s brow furrowed but she waved her off. “Well, I enjoyed myself. Did you ?”

“I did,” Catherine sniffed. “You may not have noticed but my first was with Lord Hurston. Furthermore, I also danced with the Earl of Thornshire, recently returned from the countryside. Rumours have stated that he has been a recluse. Word has spread of my return into society, I imagine, and perhaps he was intrigued.”

Rebecca fought to keep the surprise off her face. She had not seen her friends speaking, although she caught herself short at calling Edward a friend. They had been once, but it must have been at least ten years, if not a little less.

Her focus slipped back to Edward as Catherine spoke about her hope that she had interested Edward enough, and how she had noticed his sister was entering society that Season, too. After all, if he had spent so long in the countryside he may have needed the guidance.

“I think he will want to spend more time with me,” Catherine declared. “And I with him.”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically, though she couldn’t look away from Edward.

He had grown up well in their years apart, and grief had made his eyes dimmer than she recalled, but he still held that strange aura about him.

The one that said he would have preferred to remain in a corner, as he often had when they were children.

When his eyes flicked to hers, Rebecca hurriedly looked away.

She forced her thoughts back to Harry Maudley, reminding herself she had enough problems on her plate without the return of an old friend to attend to.