Mama would adore to have you—if you can persuade your aunt to allow it.’
‘Oh, I think I might.’ Jenny breathed a sigh of relief as the marquis walked away, heading, she imagined, for the card room.
‘Then it’s all arranged. We shall take you up next week when we leave town. You must bring plenty of clothes for you will need them.’
‘Thank you.’ Jenny smiled at her. ‘I think that gentleman is coming to ask you to dance. I shall go and speak to my aunt at once.’
Leaving Lucy to dance with the extremely handsome man who had come to claim her, Jenny began to make her way through the crowded ballroom. It was difficult to reach the other side of the room, where the dowagers sat, and she was forced to wait until the press of people allowed her to move on.
‘Where is this paragon you promised me?’ A man’s voice charged with amusement claimed her attention. ‘An heiress, pretty if not beautiful, not stupid and available. Now did you or did you not promise me such a rare item?’
‘It is not as easy as that,’ a second young man answered in kind.
‘You are too particular, Adam. We have already shown you two perfectly suitable young ladies and neither was to your taste.’
‘One of them giggled at everything I said and the other one had bad breath,’ the first gentleman said. ‘God save me from simpering heiresses. I’ve had them paraded in front of me ever since I rose from my convalescence bed and I despair of ever finding one I should wish to marry.’
The second gentleman laughed. ‘If the young lady has a fortune, you immediately find some fault in her. I think the woman you would marry has yet to be born.’
Adam laughed and shook his head. ‘I dare say you are right. I am a sight too particular—but the whole notion of it fills me with disgust. Why should I marry simply for the sake of a fortune?’
Jenny glanced over her shoulder at the young men who were so deep in their amusing conversation that they were completely unaware she’d heard every word. The coxcomb! The young man who was so hard to please was indeed handsome, but not above ordinary height. His hair was dark, almost black, and his eyes bright blue. He must have a high opinion of himself if none of the young ladies here this evening could please him. Jenny knew of six young women present that evening who were considerable heiresses and each of them had something to recommend them.
Miss Maddingly was blonde and extremely pretty in a delicate way. Miss Rowbottom was as dark as her friend was fair with rather striking eyebrows. Miss Saunders was a redhead and much admired. Miss Headingly-Jones was another blonde, with large blue eyes; Miss Hatton was not as beautiful as the others, but still attractive, and Miss Pearce was unfortunately a little squint-eyed, but her twenty thousand pounds should make her acceptable to most. What did the particular young man want in his future wife? Was he above being pleased?
His eyes seemed to rest on her for a moment and then passed on. Jenny frowned and moved further into the crush.
* * *
It was several minutes before she reached her aunt, who looked up and smiled vaguely at her.
‘Fontleroy was looking for you earlier, my love. I think he meant to ask you to dance, but could not get near you for the crush.’
‘It is exceedingly warm in here this evening, Aunt,’ Jenny said. ‘I met Lucy Dawlish. They go home next week and I have been invited to stay for some weeks—until after her wedding.’
‘Indeed?’ Mrs Martha Hastings frowned for a moment. ‘I was not aware her engagement had been announced. Well, I dare say it will be good company for you, Jenny. Lady Dawlish entertains only the best people and you must be flattered to be asked. I dare say you may meet a suitable gentleman in her company—and the marquis may post down to visit you if he chooses.’
‘Lucy’s engagement is not yet announced, but her friends know she is to marry Mark Ravenscar. I’ve met him only once, but he seems pleasant.’
‘If you would but consider Fontleroy, you might be engaged yourself.’
Jenny sighed. She had tried on several occasions to make her aunt understand that she would never consider marriage to Fontleroy. Had she not a penny to her name she would prefer to work for her living as a governess or a companion. Being a paid companion could not be worse than living with Mrs Hastings.
‘I have a little headache, Aunt. Do you think we could leave soon?’
‘Well, it is very warm this evening,’ her aunt agreed. ‘Go and put on your pelisse, my love. We shall leave as soon as the carriage may be sent for.’
Jenny did not need to be told twice. She decided that it was easier to quit the room by keeping to the perimeter rather than trying to cross it. As she reached the door that led to the hall, which led up to the room provided for ladies to change, she caught sight of the gentlemen who had been discussing the heiresses earlier. One of them was dancing with a very pretty young woman, but the other—the particular gentleman—was standing frowning at the company as if nothing and no one pleased him. What a disagreeable young man he must be.
For a moment their eyes met across the room and his narrowed. Seeing a flicker of something in those relentless eyes, Jenny put her head in the air and turned her back. She had no wish to be the object of his interest even for a moment!
* * *
Adam’s eyes moved about the room, picking out the various young ladies who had been recommended to him. They were all very well in their way—to dance with any one of them would be a pleasure—but the very idea of having to court a young lady for her fortune made his stomach turn. It was quite unfair of the earl to expect it of him. That it was expected had become ever more plain since Adam’s return from the war.
‘So you managed to escape death or crippling injury this time, Adam,’ the earl had said in a voice of displeasure. ‘Do I need to remind you of what might have happened had you been killed? It is time you set up your nursery, my boy. Unless you give me heirs the title will pass into oblivion—and that prospect causes me pain. We have been earls since the time of the Conqueror. To lose the title or the estate would be equally painful to me. Do you mean to oblige me by marrying an heiress or not?’
‘I do not wish to disoblige you, Grandfather,’ Adam said, ‘yet I would crave your indulgence a little longer. I would at least marry a young woman I can admire if nothing more.’
‘Well, well,’ the earl said tolerantly. ‘There is time enough yet, but I do not have many years left to me. I should like to know the estate and the succession were safe.’
Adam had left his grandfather’s estate and journeyed to London. It was his first appearance in the drawing rooms of society for a while. He had been away for some years, like many young men now returned from the wars. Adam knew that several of his friends were seeking young women of fortune. His was not the only estate to be encumbered with mortgages and in danger of sinking into extinction.
Had he seen a young lady who caught his attention he would have done his best to court her, even though the whole idea filled him with repugnance. To be seeking a wife for her fortune was not what Adam would have wished for given his choice. Indeed, he had not yet made up his mind to it. He had been invited to stay at Ravenscar for Mark’s wedding and would do so, but before that he hoped to have some sport. There was an important meeting at Newmarket the
