chin a notch higher and breathed with fierce determination. It was foolish, irrational—she wouldn’t give in to it!
As various people greeted them, Thea’s nerves began to steady, and she realised with an odd shock that, although she disliked the crowd, the fear of exposing herself was ebbing. She might be uncomfortable, but she wasn’t going to faint or panic, even when one dowager went so far as to prod her with a fan, commenting that it was time and more that she did her duty. She shot a gimlet-eyed stare at Lady Arnsworth. ‘And I hear you have that nephew of yours with you. Well, it might be worse!’ and stumped off, leaning on a cane.
‘Such a dreadful crush!’ pronounced Lady Arnsworth in scathing tones, as the dowager retreated. ‘Really, I wonder that Louisa cares to invite so many. I have not seen a single person I wished to see.’ She smiled graciously, inclining her head at another lady. ‘Lady Broome! How nice … yes. A frightful crush. I shall look forward to a comfortable cose later!’
Lady Broome sailed away into the seething silks and satins.
Lady Arnsworth shuddered. ‘Vulgar creature! Her father was a merchant. I vow she smells of the shop!’
Thea remembered Lady Broome as a very good-natured, unaffected woman—not at all vulgar. And her own fortune, now respectably invested in the Funds, derived from her uncle’s involvement with the East India Company. Perhaps Lady Arnsworth’s sense of smell was selective … like her tolerance for other failings.
The gentlemen were no less assiduous in their attentions, several claiming to remember her from her brief Season.
She smiled and replied politely to their compliments, vaguely remembering names and faces from eight years ago. The smile was the important thing: vague, gracious, never direct. Let them think her cold, uninviting …
‘Oh, goodness me!’ muttered Lady Arnsworth, nipping at Thea’s arm in warning with gloved fingers.
Thea recognised Lord Dunhaven at once. Slightly above average height, his powerful frame drew attention as he strolled towards them, his expression intent.
‘Really! I did not think he could possibly be serious!’ muttered Lady Arnsworth to Thea. Then, in far more gracious tones, ‘Lord Dunhaven! How do you do?’
Instantly Thea was aware that although his lordship exchanged polite greetings with Lady Arnsworth, all his attention was on her. Intent, knowing eyes looked her up and down. She stiffened her spine against the tremor that went through her as Lady Arnsworth presented her. ‘You recall Lord Aberfield’s daughter? Miss Winslow, this is Lord Dunhaven.’
Thin lips curved in acknowledgement. ‘Certainly, ma’am. I called on Aberfield earlier and he mentioned that she had arrived.’ His gaze returned to Thea. ‘Good evening, Miss Winslow.’ He extended his hand with all the air of one conferring a signal honour upon the recipient.
Thea repressed a shudder, violently aware of her scanty bodice, as she placed her hand in his. She remembered Lord Dunhaven well; she had never liked him. Lady Dunhaven had always been casting nervous glances at him, agreeing with everything he said.
‘How do you do, my lord?’ She curtsied slightly as he bowed over her hand, and the odour of his pomaded hair sank into her. Her stomach roiled, but she lifted her chin. His lordship seemed inclined to retain possession of her hand and place it on his arm, but she withdrew it firmly. Something about Lord Dunhaven made her skin crawl, even through her white kid gloves. She quelled the urge to rub her glove as though it might be soiled. There was something about the way he looked at her—assessing, judging, as though she were a filly he contemplated buying.
‘It is some years since you were in town, Miss Winslow,’ he said. ‘I will be happy to act as your guide in some measure. Aberfield was most anxious that your time in London should be spent profitably.’
Thea barely suppressed a snort. ‘Really, sir? I am sure we can depend on Lady Arnsworth to ensure that my time is not wasted.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said her ladyship. ‘I have no doubt that—’
‘Almeria! How lovely to see you! And Miss Winslow! How delightful!’
Whatever Lady Arnsworth had meant to say was lost as Lady Chasewater came up to greet them.
‘My dear—I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you again so soon—how much it gladdens my mother’s heart.’
Dragging in a breath, Thea pinned a smile in place. ‘Lady Chasewater,’ she said with a smile. ‘How kind of you.’
Something lit in Lady Chasewater’s eyes, a spark deep within. ‘My dear, you must not feel obliged to me. My poor Nigel—there! his name is spoken between us—let me assure you, he would not have expected you to mourn—now, would he?’
Thea shook her head. God help her, it was the truth.
‘Of course not,’ said Lady Chasewater. ‘And I am so glad you have returned,’ she continued, patting Thea’s hand. ‘People do say such foolish things, you know. But you may count on me to do everything I can. Perhaps if you were to drive with me in the park one day …’
Somehow Thea’s heart kept pumping gelid blood around her body. Somehow she held herself still, mastered the frantic need to pull her hands away, and kept a smile frozen to her face as her voice fought its way past the choking blockage in her throat.
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
Lady Arnsworth chimed in, ‘Yes, indeed, Dorothea will be honoured. An excellent notion and so kind of you, Laetitia. It will do her a great deal of good to be seen with you.’
‘Oh, tush, Almeria!’ said Lady Chasewater. ‘Why, she was to be my daughter-in-law!’ Her gaze flashed to Thea. ‘I would have been a grandmama by now. And poor Nigel has been dead these eight years, and no one ever speaks of him to me.’ A sad smile accompanied these words. ‘I know Dorothea will understand! I may call you Dorothea?’ As she spoke, she released Thea’s hands with a little pressure.
‘Of course, ma’am.’
‘And you will drive with me?’
A drive in the park. That was all. So why did she feel as though she were being manoeuvred to the gallows?
She lifted her chin. ‘Thank you, ma’am. That will be delightful.’
Lady Chasewater inclined her head. ‘Excellent, my dear. I shall send a little note round. Now, if I am not much mistaken, Lord Dunhaven wishes to stroll with you, Dorothea, and is wishing me elsewhere.’ She cast an arch smile at his lordship, who smirked and disclaimed.
‘Aberfield must be pleased to know that Dorothea is drawing such distinguished attention.’ She rapped his lordship on the arm with her fan. ‘And so pleasant to see you again now that your period of mourning is over. I am sure we all hope to see you happy again very soon.’
Lacing her farewells with another gracious smile, she glided away through the crowd.
‘If you would honour me, Miss Winslow?’ Dunhaven extended his arm, and Lady Arnsworth cleared her throat. He accorded her the briefest of smiles. ‘Your ladyship has no objection?’
‘Of course not,’ said Lady Arnsworth, although Thea had the distinct
