Miss Durant’s brother was as open-minded about it as the girl believed, that was all. Because he sounded too good to be true.
Edmund could never understand why so many people he scarcely knew persisted in sending him so many invitations to events they must know wouldn’t interest him in the slightest, whenever he came to Town.
Nevertheless, tonight he was glad that Lady Twining had invited him to her daughter’s come-out ball. Because Lord Havelock had informed him that his wife had somehow managed to get Georgiana’s name on the guest list, too. And although on first hearing this, he’d just been pleased to see that his ploy was working, that Georgiana was, gradually, getting to know females who would encourage her to discover her true self again, as the hours had ticked by he’d found himself increasingly unable to concentrate on his work. Because he couldn’t stop wondering what sort of reception she’d get. Just because Lady Havelock had managed to get her name on the guest list, it was no guarantee that people would receive her cordially once she got there. They would be just as likely to take one look at her stepmother, draw their own conclusions and cut her dead.
Society tabbies could be incredibly cruel. Especially those with unmarried daughters who would regard both Georgiana and Sukey as a threat to their own matrimonial ambitions.
In the end he tossed his pen aside, changed into evening clothes and sent one of his footmen to fetch him a hack, since it was raining too heavily for him to walk.
He need not waste his entire evening, after all. He could just take a look in to see how Georgie was faring and, if it looked as though she was not being well received, he would...
As his footman shut the door of the cab behind him, Edmund wrinkled his nose in distaste. And not entirely because it smelled as though a previous passenger made their living boiling onions. No, it was mostly because he’d realised that if he wanted to make sure Georgiana was enjoying herself, he’d have to go through all the rigmarole of approaching her stepmother, and asking permission to dance, or for the honour of escorting her into supper, or some such foolery. He’d have to spend enough time with all of them to demonstrate that he endorsed their presence in the polite world.
* * *
A footman bearing an umbrella opened the door of Edmund’s hired hack the moment it drew up. But the unfortunate man received only a baleful glare in return for escorting him up the front steps to the open door. Because light and noise were streaming out in about equal measure, proclaiming that Miss Twining’s come-out ball bore all the hallmarks of being what people referred to as ‘a squeeze’.
People were queuing up the stairs inside, chattering and laughing and jostling those who were trying to descend. People who’d clearly had enough and were attempting to leave. For a moment Edmund considered turning around and joining them.
But then he remembered the way he’d found Georgiana cowering in a corner at Lady Havelock’s gathering, gave a deep sigh, surrendered his hat and coat to yet another footman, and joined the end of the queue.
When he was about two-thirds of the way up the staircase, a mature lady attempting to go down gave an exaggerated start and came to a halt.
‘Good heavens! Lord Ashenden?’ Lady Tarbrook clapped her hand to her heavily jewelled bosom. ‘I never expected to see you here, of all people!’
Several responses sprang to mind. All of them rude. On any other occasion he would have selected one and tossed it carelessly at her feet, hoping she would stumble over it. Because she was one of those gossipy, hen-witted matrons with whom conversing was a colossal waste of time. He wouldn’t have cared if he offended her. He didn’t care what females of her type thought of him, or said about him.
But tonight he didn’t have only himself to consider. Georgiana’s position in society was far from assured. She couldn’t afford to offend any one of these tabbies. Therefore, tonight, for her sake, nor could he.
So he confined himself to merely raising one eyebrow, and saying, in what he hoped was a manner sufficiently off-putting to discourage further conversation, yet not cold enough to leave any lingering hostility, ‘Indeed?’
Lady Tarbrook appeared to regard his bland response as an invitation to linger, even though she was preventing the people on the stairs behind her from getting past.
‘Yes, I should have thought you would consider this ball far too frivolous a way to spend an evening,’ she said archly, ignoring the portly gentleman on the step above her who was noisily clearing his throat.
‘You are correct,’ he bit out, realising his error too late. There would now be no escape until he’d furnished her with some sort of explanation. ‘I would not normally waste my time at such an event. However,’ he continued, ‘some people who hail from the environs of Fontenay Court, who have recently come up to Town, are attending. And I thought it would be a neighbourly gesture,’ he said, feeling a muscle at the corner of his eye give a twitch, ‘to take a look in and see how they are faring in the Polite World.’
There, that should send out the message that he approved of the Wickfords. As their life-long neighbour, who was better placed to know what kind of people they were? And what better person to whom to divulge that information than one of the busiest gossips in England?
He gave her a nod of dismissal, and, as the queue surged upwards, climbed the next two stairs.
‘Neighbours, you say?’
To his acute annoyance, tossing her that bone had not satisfied Lady Tarbrook. On the contrary, as she fell into step beside him, her eyes alight with curiosity, he saw that all he’d done was whet her appetite.
‘Anyone I know?’
‘I should not think so.’
‘Oh? I would have thought—that is, since your mother is also here tonight I had assumed they must be here under her aegis, since they are such close neighbours of yours.’
‘She is here?’ Damn.
‘You did not know?’
‘No.’ He’d managed to avoid her since coming up to Town, even though they were both currently residing in Ashenden House. It wasn’t all that difficult. Ashenden House was enormous and their vastly different habits meant that they scarcely even passed each other in any of the corridors.
‘I do not share her tastes,’ he said. He spent most of his time in London amidst the intellectual set, whereas she cared for nothing but ton parties. Moreover, his secretary always warned him if Lady Ashenden intended to dine at home, when the fellow knew Edmund didn’t have a previous engagement, so that he could seek refuge at his club.
‘Well, I am sure she will be vastly pleased to see you here tonight,’ said Lady Tarbrook, with a knowing smile.
Yes, dammit, she would. His mother made no secret of the fact she believed it was past time he was married. As soon as he’d come down from Oxford she’d started introducing him to nobly born females of whom she approved. At previous ton balls, she’d done it in such a way that he never felt he had any choice but to lead the poor chit on to the dance floor. Which was another reason for avoiding events such as this.
Still, forewarned was forearmed.
Though
