an occurrence that struck her as odd since Faye Cole was the sort of snob who would normally cut a cit dead. Sampson was fulsomely flattering to Lydia, which made the poor girl blush even more uncomfortably. Then Henry Cole’s eye fell on Laura herself and he hailed her with surprising enthusiasm.
“Cousin Laura!” Henry kissed her hand with heavy gallantry. Faye was a great deal less affectionate and gave her a tight little nod. Her cold gaze itemized Laura’s appearance with pursed lips and narrowed gaze, assessing the gown and jewels as though placing a cost on each. Laura suspected that Faye already knew the gems were paste and was merely judging how good a counterfeit they were.
“I trust we shall see plenty of you, cousin, during our stay in Fortune’s Folly,” Henry said, and Faye’s mouth turned down at the corners.
“Thank you, cousin Henry, but I do not go much into society,” Laura said.
“Which is quite as it should be,” Faye snapped.
“Dowagers should neither be seen nor heard?” Laura inquired sweetly, and saw Miss Lydia Cole stifle a smile. Then Lydia’s gaze fell on Dexter Anstruther and her face lit up, making her look pretty and animated. Laura felt a pang of raw jealousy spike her inside. Dexter and Lydia had met four years before at Cole Court and had seemed to enjoy one another’s company. Laura knew that if Dexter genuinely wished to find a conformable bride he could do a lot worse than Lydia Cole. And Henry and Faye were so desperate to see her settled now that they would probably accept a man with an old family name but no fortune. Laura knew it would be a good match for both of them. The fact that she felt sick with envy to think of Lydia and Dexter together was something she would have to keep to herself. Her ungovernable feelings were her own problem.
A tide of panic rose within her as she realized that if Dexter and Lydia married it would bring him into the Cole family and therefore closer to his own daughter. Except that she seldom saw Faye and Henry socially, of course, and they had never showed any interest whatsoever in Hattie. That was the way it would have to stay, Laura thought. But it was damnably awkward for in the small world of the Ton people were always falling over distant relations and it was most unlikely she could hide Hattie from Charles’s family forever. She sighed as she felt the web of deceit weave a little tighter about her. It was starting to be a tangled web indeed and one that taunted her with a lifetime of emptiness.
“I will leave you to renew your acquaintance with Mr. Anstruther,” she said wearily. She had seen how Faye’s face had sharpened into interest to have an eligible gentleman in her sights. “I am sure that he will be delighted to see you again.”
“He is extremely handsome, but he has no money, has he?” Faye said thoughtfully, sizing Dexter up like a horse trader. “Still, that should make him grateful to secure a duke’s daughter in marriage.”
“Mama!” Lydia gasped, turning bright red at her mother’s barefaced gall.
“What?” Faye looked impatient. “There is no need to be missish, Lyddy. We all know why we are here, so you had better give him some encouragement.”
Laura shot Lydia a sympathetic glance as the poor girl looked as though she was about to bolt from the ballroom.
“Yes, Mama,” Lydia said, in a stifled whisper.
As Laura went out Faye was already dragging Lydia across to accost Dexter whilst Henry watched with the calculating expression of a man working out how much the wedding was going to cost him. Laura saw Dexter take Lydia’s hand and bow over it and the same shocking spear of jealousy pierced her to the core like a physical pain.
When she reached the door she could not prevent herself from looking back. Dexter was leading Lydia into the set that was forming for a country-dance. He did not look at Laura. It seemed he had already forgotten her.
LYDIA COLE WAS an observant girl. She had already noticed that Dexter Anstruther, though pretending to be utterly indifferent to Laura, had watched her covertly all the way out of the ballroom. She had felt the tension in his body as he led her into the country-dance. She had even noticed that although Dexter was making perfectly pleasant conversation with her, part of his mind was preoccupied with something—or someone—completely different. She was not the main focus of his attention. In truth, she barely had his attention at all.
She was hugely relieved. Dexter Anstruther, with his tawny golden hair, his deep blue eyes, his commanding physique and authoritative presence, scared her to death. He was far too handsome, far too clever and generally far too overwhelming for her.
Lydia understood her mother’s absolute determination to marry her off. She also knew that Dexter was looking for a rich wife. It should have been the perfect, convenient combination. Except that it was not, for she was sure that Dexter’s feelings were already engaged elsewhere and she…Well, she had formed a tendre for a totally unsuitable man. She was almost certain that she had fallen in love at first sight.
She glanced over at Faye and sighed. The duchess had the instinct of a major predator where her daughter’s marriage prospects were concerned and was watching Lydia with a mixture of smugness and vague threat as though she was about to pounce on Dexter and carry him off to announce the banns immediately. Matters, Lydia thought, might well become complicated. She had to ensure that she did not end up being bullied into marrying Dexter and she had to try to cure herself of her hopeless passion for another gentleman. She hoped she had sufficient will to succeed. She was not sure that she did.
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