‘I do not think of Deborah as an invalid. She is my dearest friend,’ she said, taking Deborah’s hand and squeezing it. ‘She has been kindness itself to me, when I needed her, and if she was not here with me in London now, I should consider myself most unfortunate.’
Deborah returned the squeeze, remembering some of the grim times the Hullworthys had endured when they had first moved into Lower Wakering. The local gentry had closed ranks against the common upstarts, excluding them from their select gatherings. It was presumptuous, they all agreed, of the Hullworthys to buy the bankrupt Lord Wakering’s estate, shocking of them to demolish the ramshackle mansion that had been his ancestral home and downright vulgar to replace it with a purpose-built colossus equipped with every luxury and new-fangled convenience. For some time, the only locals who had not been hostile had been the vicar and his family. And it was entirely due to their influence that the Hullworthys had gradually found a measure of acceptance.
Once more, Captain Fawley’s eyes glowed with admiration. He appeared to think that Susannah was just being gracious, thought Deborah with a spurt of annoyance, when she had only spoken the literal truth. If her mother had not agreed to sponsor Susannah, she would not have the entrée to the circles in which she was now moving. Especially not if either of her parents had come with her. They would have ruined Susannah’s chances, as Mrs Gillies had wasted no time in pointing out to them. Dearly though she loved them, there was no getting round the fact that Mr and Mrs Hullworthy were not at all genteel.
‘I hope…’ He checked himself, then went on, ‘That is, I shall be asking the dowager Lady Lensborough to call on you soon, to extend an invitation to Lord Lensborough’s engagement ball. I hope you will be able to attend. And that you will save me at least one dance.’
Susannah gasped, her grip on Deborah’s hand growing uncomfortably tight.
‘L…Lensborough? The Marquis of Lensborough?’
For a moment, Deborah thought she saw a flicker of amusement in Captain Fawley’s eyes. Did he know that an invitation to such an event was the one sure way to capture Susannah’s interest? She looked at him keenly. Perhaps it was not only débutantes who cast out lures to catch their prey. He had certainly baited his hook with the one worm that could make Susannah bite. She was almost obsessed with gaining an entrée to the haut ton.
‘The same,’ he said, his fleeting trace of amusement replaced with an air of gravity.
‘Oh, well, that would be wonderful!’ Susannah sighed rapturously. ‘If you can indeed promise me an invitation, you may be sure I shall save at least one dance for you!’
‘That was just what I thought you would say,’ he replied, bowing over the hand she had extended, for the first time to Deborah’s knowledge, willingly.
‘Now I will take my leave,’ he said, nodding curtly to Deborah. ‘I am glad to hear you are recovering from your indisposition. And I hope you will accept the small token of my good wishes in the spirit in which it was given.’
‘Token?’ Deborah felt totally mystified.
‘Oh, Captain Fawley brought you a posy. It is over there.’ Deborah looked where Susannah had pointed, to see the usual mound of floral tributes piled upon the little table by the door. Her heart leaped to think that, at long last, one of them was for her!
‘Miss Hullworthy informed me that you would not be able to accept it from me personally, so I left it with the other tributes to the beauties of Half Moon Street,’ he said drily.
‘Which one is it?’ she asked, her pulse fluttering wildly.
‘The orangey-coloured one,’ he replied vaguely. ‘I know not the names of the flowers. I just thought they were something like the colour of the ribbons you were wearing in your hair last night.’
All the breath left her lungs in a great whoosh. He had brought her a posy. And he had noticed what colour ribbons she had been wearing in her hair! She wanted to rush across the room, gather the flowers to her bosom and breathe in their fragrance. How silly of her. He had not brought it because he harboured any tender feelings for her. It had been expedient to arm himself with it, that was all, and feign concern over her health to gain entry to the home of the woman who really interested him. Rather stiffly, she said, ‘I am sure Susannah would have brought it up to me, had I not got out of bed today.’
‘Yes, of course I would!’
‘Of course you would,’ he agreed wryly. ‘But now there is no need. Miss Gillies is much recovered, and I am sure in a day or so, will be well able to withstand the rigours of the ballroom at Challinor House.’
‘Where is Challinor House?’ Susannah asked, the minute he had left. ‘And what has it to do with an invitation to Lord Lensborough’s engagement? And what is his connection with the family?’
‘Hush, Suzy,’ Deborah murmured. ‘Wait till your callers have gone. Then we may ask my mama.’
* * *
Her mother was very well informed about the noble families of England. It never ceased to amaze her how a woman who had spent the majority of her life in a rural backwater had managed to keep her finger on the pulse of London gossip.
‘Challinor is the family name, dear,’ Mrs Gillies explained, when Susannah eventually got the opportunity to question her about the Marquis of Lensborough. ‘And you say Captain Fawley is to use his influence with the dowager Lady Lensborough to get you an invitation to her son’s ball? Hmm…’ She sank on to her favourite chair, her finger tapping her chin as a frown came to her brow. ‘Of course!’ Her face lit up. ‘Her younger son served in the same regiment as Captain Fawley. Dead now, of course, like so many of them after that dreadful affair of Waterloo…’ She sighed, shaking her head. ‘But I believe shared grief has created something of a bond between your Captain Fawley and the Marquis. I know for a fact that he trained a horse especially to cope with his…umm… disadvantages. He is bound to be on the guest list already….’
‘But I heard that the engagement ball is one of the most exclusive events of the Season so far!’ Susannah protested. ‘Why should they include a penniless nobody like Captain Fawley?’
‘Now, Susannah, my dear, I have told you before about judging a man too hastily. There is nothing wrong with his background. He is half-brother to the Earl of Walton, after all.’
Deborah’s heart sank as Susannah’s eyes lit up. She suddenly felt incredibly weary.
‘If you do not mind,’ she said, ‘I would like to go and lie down again before dinner.’
‘Of course, my dear,’ said her mother. ‘And do not be thinking you will be left alone this evening. If you do not feel up to coming down and keeping company with us, one of us will come and read to you. Won’t we, Susannah?’
To her credit, Susannah betrayed not the slightest sign of petulance, though Deborah knew she had been looking forward to the theatre trip planned for that evening. Instead, she leapt to her feet, saying brightly, ‘Shall I come up with you now? We could have a good gossip while you have a lie down. For you surely don’t need to sleep any more today, do you?’
Deborah mentally braced herself. She knew that the gossip would consist of hearing Susannah dissect every single one of her suitors—their dress, their manners, their connections and fortune—and she was not sure she was sufficiently in control of the frayed edges of her temper to hold it together.
‘Fancy
