“We should speak later. Not now.”
No sooner had he spoken than Isabella and her friends carved a path between them.
“I do so love a secret,” Isabella whispered. “What plot do we hatch here?”
When Lucy said nothing, Henry filled the void. “I was simply commending Lady Margaret on a successful first impression with her suitors.”
Isabella brushed his shoulder softly and smiled. “Henry, dear, you are ever the encourager.” She turned her attention to Lucy. “You should do very well with these suitors. Your brown hair and dark eyes present a certain Persian effect. One of these men is certain to find it exotic enough to overlook what is less favored by Society at present.”
To underscore her point, she tossed her long blond tresses and fluttered her eyelashes above pale blue eyes. Lucy smiled intently. “Thank you, Lady Isabella, for your heartwarming support. I was beginning to harbor doubts, but you have lifted my spirits. When one of these men makes me his wife, I will return the favor by introducing you to his friends so you may finally have reasonable prospects.”
Isabella’s eyes flashed. Behind her, Miss Wharton drew a sharp intake of breath while Miss Braye coughed. Henry looked away to hide his amusement. The battle was joined! Lucy grabbed Isabella’s hand and began dragging the reluctant woman into the ballroom. “But come, now. The night is young. Discussion of your plight can wait for a more opportune time.”
Henry remained rooted as he watched the women walk toward the center of the room. His pride over Lucy’s handling of Isabella conflicted with his desire to warn her of the looming danger. James caught him musing.
“Pining after her will not save you, Henry.”
“Pardon?”
James leaned near and pinched Henry’s shoulder. “Lady Margaret is simultaneously above your station and the pathway to your destruction. I hope you will make a wise choice for both your sakes.”
With that, James moved to join Lucy. In his absence, Sir Hugh stepped next to Henry while watching James. “Don’t listen to whatever he said. There is no accounting for the behavior of a jealous man.”
Henry cast a startled glance at the knight. “Jealous of me?”
“Jealous that you have done more with your life than attend balls and take afternoon tea with shiftless callers. And jealous of your appeal to Lady Margaret.”
Henry tried to argue his point about Lucy, but Sir Hugh simply cocked an eyebrow and sauntered away. Regardless, he could not dismiss his brother’s warning. After all, James had known longer than anyone the true extent of Henry’s fallen nature.
…
Once inside the ballroom, Lucy watched the guests filter in and assume positions around the cavernous space, some sitting, others not. The pack of suitors soon clustered around her to form a cordon that locked out all others as they circled for the kill. Their aggressive proximity raised her anxiety. Once again, the men began to vie for her attention.
“Tell us of your childhood,” Rayleigh said.
“Or of your education,” suggested Lord Jeffrey.
Her brief panic appeared to draw Henry’s brother a step nearer. “Mundane and boring,” he said. “Let us hear instead of how you escaped the highwaymen who drove your coach into a river. That should make for a fascinating tale.”
Despite the directness, Lucy found with some surprise that she was more inclined to discuss that dark day with some element of truth than to lie about her unconventional upbringing. “Thank you, Lord Ravensheugh. I should like to do so.”
He cast a challenging eye at the other men and then smiled sweetly at her. She nodded while biting back a dismal opinion of his attentions. “Of course. Now, where to begin? Oh, yes. The road from Runnymede along the Thames. That is where they fell upon us, but our horses were swift.”
She conveyed most of the story in graphic detail, while conveniently omitting parts that might lead to more probing questions about her subsequent childhood. She finished with her discovery by Steadman but twisted the tale slightly.
“A gentleman came upon me as the thieves emerged from the trees. He convinced them to leave and then saw to my safety.”
“How terrifying!” said Lord Canterfield. “I commend your courage, and at such a young age. It is no wonder the duchess speaks so highly of you.”
“Indeed,” added Warwick. He seemed to have completely forgotten his mistreatment of her before he learned of the immense dowry. “Why, I have seen grown men crumble under lesser threats. Well done.”
James gazed at her with eyes softer than before. “Yes, Lady Margaret. Very well done.”
With that, he offered her his arm. “Shall we attend to the other guests?”
She accepted the arm reluctantly, escaping the huddle of suitors for the first time in half an hour. Her eyes immediately found Henry locked in conversation with Isabella. Their unheard discourse seemed passionate and intense. A surge of jealousy nearly brought her to a halt. Isabella spied her and James and waved to them.
“Oh, there you are at last, my lady. Please beguile us with your skills on the pianoforte.”
Charlotte, who had slipped into the background all evening, immediately sprang to Lucy’s defense. “That will not be necessary. We should dance instead, and I will play the pianoforte.”
Lucy nearly sagged to the floor with relief.
“Thank you, Lady Sinclair. Despite my lack of ballroom experience, dancing would please me greatly as I have no skill whatsoever on the pianoforte.”
While she marveled at the turn of events that would have her preferring one public humiliation over another, she returned her attention to Henry. His face seemed clouded, distant.
“You have my sympathy,” said Isabella. “I am sorry your mentor failed to teach you pianoforte. Still, I truly believe you might learn to play passably despite your indelicate fingers.”
Lucy blinked but dipped her head in a show of gratitude. “Thank you again for your unending encouragement. However, I must admit I have found my indelicate fingers quite useful from time to time.”
“Oh? For what purpose?”
She pressed a pointer finger into each ear. “For example, plugging my ears against annoying sounds.”
“Lady Margaret,” said Isabella. “Surely you are not serious. Of what annoying sounds do you speak?”
Lucy smiled broadly. “See? It is working! I cannot hear a word you are saying.”
Henry raised his hand to hide a smirk. He motioned to her to remove her fingers from her ears. She did so.
“I apologize, Mr. Beaumont,” she said. “Did I embarrass you with my display?”