Chapter Eleven
“Iunderstand young Mr. Hewitt will be at the ball this evening,” Mrs. Northrop said to Mother as they stepped from the carriage outside the duke and duchess’s Town home. “You must be very pleased about that.”
Mother looked confused for only a fraction of a moment before assuming an expression of delight. “We are always pleased with his company.”
“As well you should be.” Mrs. Northrop addressed the comment to both of Odette’s parents. “An exemplary young gentleman. His connection to your family is quite a boon.”
“I suppose it is.” Father’s lips pressed outward in a frown, as they always did when he was pondering something.
“Come, then,” Mrs. Northrop instructed. “We oughtn’t delay.”
She moved forward, directly toward the front door. Odette hurriedly caught up with her, leaving her parents to do the same.
They stepped inside and were divested of their outer clothing.
They followed the din of voices to the wide corridor directly adjacent to the ballroom where their host and hostess were welcoming their guests one family at a time.
The first guests Mrs. Northrop came upon were none other than the Hewitts.
Mrs. Hewitt, in particular, appeared happy to see them. “A pleasure, Mrs. Northrop.”
“Thank you again for the lovely visit this morning,” she answered. This morning? Mrs. Northrop had called on Mrs. Hewitt? “Having been in Bath for most of this Season, I do appreciate getting reacquainted with the details of the ton.”
Mrs. Hewitt waved that off. “You knew things I hadn’t heard yet. I am in awe of how many significant people you are very closely acquainted with.”
Mrs. Northrop appeared neither flattered nor embarrassed by the praise. “I am pleased to have added you and your family to that circle of acquaintances, as well as Lord and Lady Barrington’s family.”
That brought Mrs. Hewitt’s attention to Odette. “A joy to see you again.” While Mrs. Hewitt had never been unkind or cold, this was a warmer greeting than Odette was accustomed to receiving, especially since coming to London.
“And I you,” she answered most sincerely. She had always liked Jack’s mother. “This promises to be a lovely evening.”
“Indeed. Anyone who is anyone is on Grosvenor Square tonight.”
Odette caught Jack’s eye. He smiled warmly, a gesture she returned. He crossed to where she stood and offered a bow. “Miss Armistead.” Did everyone else hear the tenderness in his voice as he spoke her name?
“Mr. Hewitt.” She spoke with the same tenderness.
“Is it too much to hope that you might have saved a set for me?”
She dipped her head regally. “I believe I might be able to find one.”
Mrs. Northrop inserted herself once more. “Her Grace wished specifically for you to dance with her cousin as well as Lord Keslington, a close friend of the duke’s. And I meant to introduce you this evening to the Earl of Manningford.”
Why was Mrs. Northrop arranging for her to dance with these gentlemen when she knew full well where Odette’s affection lay?
Mrs. Hewitt’s attention was now fixed not on Mrs. Northrop, but on Odette. She watched her with interest. “You are beginning to catch the notice of some very well-connected gentlemen.”
“It would seem so,” Odette said, attempting to sound at least not displeased by the turn of events.
“She began the Season with a little difficulty,” Mrs. Northrop said. “Now that she has found a more sure footing, I am certain she will be a rousing success.”
Mrs. Hewitt made a sound of pondering.
Mrs. Northrop indicated with a slight wave of her hand that the Hewitts’ turn to greet the duke and duchess had arrived. Jack left Odette’s side to join his parents as they offered their bows and curtsies.
Odette whispered to Mrs. Northrop, “Have you truly arranged for me to dance with those gentlemen you mentioned?”
“Certainly.”
Frustration expanded in her chest, causing an uncomfortable tightness around her lungs. “I thought you were going to help Jack’s and my cause, not pursue . . . general matchmaking.”
Mrs. Northrop arched a single raven eyebrow. “I am not one to rescind my promises, Miss Armistead. You, however, are welcome to doubt me.”
There was nothing truly critical in the comment, yet Odette felt a little chastised. Did she trust Mrs. Northrop? Did she have any choice but to trust her?
The Hewitts had finished their greetings to the host and hostess. Mother and Father stepped forward to begin theirs. Odette stood beside them, waiting to be acknowledged as was customary.
“Miss Armistead,” the duchess said after a moment. “A pleasure.”
“Your Grace.” She gave the expected curtsy.
“I hope you will call during my next at-home,” the duchess said. “I have not had the opportunity to come to know you this Season.”
“I would very much enjoy that.” How she managed the sentence whole despite her shock, she didn’t know. Princess Pompous had not exactly been a highly sought-after companion. To be issued a personal invitation to call upon a duchess was not an insignificant thing.
“Mrs. Northrop.” The duchess held out her hands in greeting to the matchmaker, a very personal greeting for such a formal occasion.
Were the two ladies more closely acquainted than Odette had realized?
“My sister is still singing your praises. I would not be surprised if her first grandchild is named for you.”
Mrs. Northrop gave a single nod. “For the little one’s sake, let us hope her grandchild is a girl. Adelaide would be a difficult name to bear all his life.”
The duchess laughed. “I could not be happier to see you here. If we are unable to spend time together this evening, do call upon me. I have hardly seen you this Season.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Northrop’s smile spoke of friendship. With a duchess. One who wished for her particular company.
Their host and hostess turned to the next guests in line, freeing Odette and her family to move into the ballroom. Jack had remained behind after his parents had moved along. He offered Odette his arm.
She looked to Mrs. Northrop, but the matchmaker was speaking with a matron Odette had seen at nearly every social gathering of significance this Season.
“I do believe we are permitted to walk in together,” Jack said, his arm still forward in anticipation.
Odette accepted it with a flip of her heart. “I cannot remember the last time we walked this way.”
He smiled at her. “You walked on my arm to the supper dance at the Salsteads’ ball a few days ago.”
“That was different,” she said. “You were required to, so no one would think twice about seeing it.”
“Hmm.” He apparently hadn’t pondered it in quite that way. “Then I am even more determined to walk into the ballroom with you.”
They walked through the doors of the ballroom and into the glittering whirl of the Season’s grandest social event.
Odette received many of the same looks she had the past few months: blatant curiosity, hints of superiority, subtle dismissal.
But she also saw something new sprinkled about the room: smiles of welcome, happiness at her arrival, a hint of approval.
“Walking in with you seems to have helped my standing,” Odette said to Jack.
“It’s not me,” Jack insisted. “I have been hearing very positive things about you during nearly every at-home and casual conversation in the park. I would wager Mrs. Northrop has been doing a great deal of talking.”
“I am beginning to suspect that she knows absolutely everyone.” Odette shook her head. “I had never heard of her until she arrived on our doorstep. Yet, she apparently has more connections than the Prince of Wales himself.”
“And she is utilizing those connections to make certain you’ll dance with every eligible gentleman of importance in Town.” He clearly liked that no more than Odette did. “I am doing my utmost to trust her methods.”
“But it is not easy,” Odette added.
“Not in the least.” He took a breath as they approached his parents and hers, standing to the side of the ballroom, speaking with the Summerfields. “Yet, she is our best chance. We’ll simply have to choose to believe she knows what she is about.”
She offered a quick dip of her head to a group of matrons they passed. Voice still lowered, she spoke to Jack once more. “I don’t know how much longer my heart can bear this.”
“Then tell yourself you need bear it only this one night,” he said. “Tell yourself all our dreams will come true if we can simply endure for this one night.”
This one night. She squared her shoulders. She could do that. She would. She had to.
***
Jack waited impatiently for the supper dance.
He was struggling to keep his own advice.
Trusting Mrs. Northrop’s methods when she was actively making Odette the belle of this particular ball was difficult to say the least. He kept to the edges of the room, avoiding the necessity of asking any other ladies to stand up with him, while keenly aware that doing so would likely mean being the subject of a great many whispers of disapproval in the days to come.
He happened past the Summerfields just as Miss Summerfield was returned to their side by her most recent dance partner. They saw him, not allowing him the luxury of slipping away unnoticed.
“Mr. Hewitt.” Mrs. Summerfield waved him over. “We have not seen much of you yet this evening.” She turned to her daughter. “You have a dance remaining, do you not? An unclaimed set?”
“Mother,” she whispered miserably, heat filling her cheeks.
Despite his preference for dancing only with Odette, he did not wish for Miss Summerfield to be embarrassed or made unhappy. “I would be happy to stand up with you,” he said. “Honored.”