Chapter 1 #3
“I am glad you could join my family to celebrate this occasion,” she said as she worked up a smile just for Lord Selway.
He was more than twice her age, with a sharp, aquiline nose, clear blue eyes, and black hair that was peppered with gray. It was rumored that he had sired more than a half dozen children by a string of mistresses.
When she had encountered this silver-tongued serpent in the past, Lavinia had done everything in her power to wriggle away from him. But now, in her parents’ home, she saw little hope of escaping the conversation.
“Who would dare miss a party like this?” Lord Selway replied as he spread his hands wide and gestured to the crowded room. “London will be empty all week because anyone who is anyone will have retreated here, to Crawford Hall.”
“Yes, well…” Lavinia hesitated. She did not know what to say next. Her mind worked to conjure an excuse so that she might slip away, but she could come up with nothing. “My parents have spared no expense. Be sure that they aim to dazzle you and all their other guests this week.”
“Oh…” Lord Selway leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice to a purr. “I look forward to being dazzled, Miss Fitzroy.”
His eyes dropped to her chest, and she was not sure if he was admiring her necklace or looking at her inappropriately.
Lavinia opened her mouth to reply, but was spared the trouble when Charles and another gentleman appeared beside her.
“Selway,” Charles greeted in a voice that was too loud for the setting. “What do you think of Crawford Hall?”
Lord Selway turned his gaze to Charles. “I have not toured the property yet, Mr. Fitzroy. Perhaps your sister would consent to lead me through the grounds before dinner.”
He cast a lustful look in Lavinia’s direction, and she lowered her head, hoping Charles could read her distress.
“I would be happy to give you a tour,” Charles emphasized.
He clapped a hand jubilantly on Lord Selway’s shoulder.
“If you ask nicely, I might even show you the best place to fish in my father’s trout stream.
” He paused and laughed lightly. “As I understand it, you have a penchant for fishing, don’t you, My Lord? ”
His words seemed light-hearted enough, but Lavinia noticed how he kept a hand on Lord Selway’s shoulder. She didn’t think Charles was pinching the man or even giving him a slight push, but he was certainly steering him away from her, for which she was exceedingly grateful.
“I… do enjoy a bit of fishing,” Lord Selway responded in a tone that indicated he was unsure how to proceed. “And I suppose I would like to see your trout stream.”
“Very well.” Charles sidled forward. Because his hand still rested on Lord Selway’s shoulder, the motion placed him squarely between Lavinia and the Marquess.
She mouthed a gentle, “Thank you,” and he winked at her in return.
Then, just as she was sure that he and the offensive Lord Selway would walk away, Charles dipped his chin and whispered, “I came over here to introduce you to my friend, Lord Windham. Do play nice with him, Lavinia. He is a bit bumbling, but overall, he is a good, kind-hearted man.”
Lavinia gaped at her brother. On the one hand, she was grateful to him for intervening on her behalf and escorting Lord Selway out of the room. On the other hand, she was annoyed to find that he had only joined her so he could introduce her to another gentleman.
Breathe. Just breathe.
She knew she ought not to be angry with Charles. He was not forcing her to marry Lord Windham; he merely intended to make an introduction.
So, she inhaled deeply, lifted her chin, plastered a smile on her face, and turned to greet Lord Windham.
For a brief moment, she was mildly flustered.
Lord Windham was a uniquely attractive gentleman.
He was tall and slim as a reed. His whitish blond hair was a tad longer than what was considered highly fashionable, but he wore the look well, as the strands curled around his ears.
His face was pale, indicating he spent little to no time outdoors.
When Lavinia met his eyes, she was surprised to see a warm blue that blended nicely with his wide black pupils. She was vaguely reminded of her inkwell when she gazed into his eyes, and that made her all the more curious about him.
“Hello,” she said softly, bobbing a quick curtsy. “I am Miss Fitzroy, Charles’s sister.”
“So I have gathered.” Lord Windham bowed grandly. “Charles has told me almost everything about you.”
Unease coiled in Lavinia’s abdomen, but she tried to laugh off the feeling. “I certainly hope not.”
“I assure you that I know a great deal about you, Miss Fitzroy,” Lord Windham said in a most earnest tone.
“Your brother says that you enjoy writing lengthy letters, that you do not eat anything for breakfast except a bit of toast and jam, and that you always, always wear flowers in your hair even when you know you will smush the posies once you put a bonnet on your head.” He nodded at the bits of baby’s breath that had been scattered artfully on the crown of her head by her lady’s maid earlier in the day.
Lavinia eyed him skeptically. “My brother told you all of this?”
“Yes,” Lord Windham said slowly, as if he just realized that he should not have rattled off so many details about her life.
“Then you have me at a disadvantage, My Lord, for up until this moment, Charles has failed to even mention your name in my presence.”
“Oh…” Suddenly, Lord Windham seemed agitated. His pale cheeks were flooded with hot streaks of crimson, and he backed a step from her. “I… I…”
Annoyed with herself for speaking thusly, Lavinia said, “I did not mean to hurt you, My Lord. Please accept my apologies.”
“There is no need to apologize, Miss Fitzroy,” Lord Windham returned. Already, the red smears were disappearing, and his pallor returned. “I was just surprised, that is all. I thought that your brother or your parents might have mentioned it to you when I stayed here with them.”
“What?”
Now it was Lavinia’s turn to be embarrassed. The word popped out of her mouth in a most undignified squawk.
“I… well, I stayed here for almost a month,” Lord Windham continued. “You were away… in London. Visiting with your friend, Miss Foote, I believe. I came here with Charles and liked the country so much that I decided to stay.”
Lavinia was astonished. She could not understand why her brother and parents had entertained a guest for a whole month while she was away, but never even mentioned his name after.
Did he and Charles quarrel? Did he somehow offend my parents?
Swiftly, she dismissed the first possibility because if Lord Windham and Charles were truly at odds with one another, her twin would not have bothered to introduce him to her.
She stared at the man, wondering what to say next, when they were joined by her mother.
Good. I can subtly ask Mama about her connection to Lord Windham.
“Hello, my darlings,” her mother trilled. “Emanuel, it has been too long since you last graced us with your presence.”
She held out her hand to Lord Windham, and he immediately accepted it.
“Lady Crawford.” He lowered his lips to her gloved knuckles and brushed a light kiss against them. “I am glad to see you again in such good health.”
“How wonderful to have you here with us, my dear Emanuel. I trust your journey was pleasant?”
“Indeed, Lady Crawford. As you know, when I am in the city, I long for the countryside. The moment I received your kind invitation, I began making plans and adjusting my schedule so that nothing would stop me from joining in the celebration,” Lord Windham replied.
His dark blue eyes flicked toward Lavinia, and she wondered what he was thinking.
“Lavinia, my dear.” Her mother grasped her hand, pulling her closer towards Lord Windham. “Why don’t you serenade our dearest guest, Emanuel, while playing the pianoforte?”
Lavinia stared at her mother in disbelief.
Surely, now is not the time for music.
She cast a long look around the drawing room, which was teeming with guests.
What will they all think if I plop down on the seat and start playing?
She did not wish to draw that sort of attention to herself or have the guests think that she was vain or a braggart.
“I must excuse myself,” she said hurriedly.
“Oh, do you feel ill, dear?” her mother asked, sounding worried.
Lavinia, with her great acting skills, used a worryingly low and sickly voice. “I’m afraid I feel a bit of a chill coming on, Mother.” She shimmied her shoulders as if she were trying fruitlessly to suppress a shudder.
Her mother did not question her again. It was no secret that Lady Crawford had a most cautious nature. She believed that when a person was feeling unwell, they should not be forced to linger in company because they could then spread their sickness to others.
Deftly, Lavinia curtsied to both her mother and Lord Windham, then quickly walked out of the drawing room, carefully dodging the guests as she darted toward the staircase.
She hurried back to her room, where her lady’s maid awaited with her evening gown, which her mother had picked for dinner. She immediately felt at ease upon seeing Abigail by the dresser.
Abigail had been hired to work in the Crawford Household several months before Lavinia made her debut. At the time, they’d both been young ladies who had just crossed the threshold into womanhood by turning eighteen.
Abigail, who was six full months older than Lavinia, had brought a sense of maturity to matters and had helped Lavinia with more than just arranging her hair or putting on her ballgowns.
Her hair was a rich, auburn shade, but she always hid it under a white cap that was part of her uniform.
Her cheeks were plump and rosy, indicating she had either been working hard or experimenting with the new pot of rouge that had been purchased the last time Lavinia went to town.
Her eyes, which were a quite striking shade of green, were filled with concern as Lavinia slammed the door behind her.
“Abigail!” Lavinia exclaimed in exhaustion. “I’m so relieved to have escaped.”
“Escaped?” Abigail echoed, her brow creasing with concern.
Lavinia collapsed onto her bed and gazed up at the ceiling, breathing heavily in anguish.
“Miss Fitzroy?” Abigail prompted after a few seconds of silence. “What is wrong?”
“The week has only just begun, and I already feel… overwhelmed,” Lavinia admitted.
She rolled onto her side, propped herself on her elbow, and looked squarely at her closest confidante.
“Why?” Abigail asked.
“Oh…” Lavinia groaned. “There are gentlemen everywhere.”
“And they wish to speak with you?”
“Yes.” Lavinia let out another annoyed groan. “I could not turn from left to right without either encountering a gentleman who wished to engage in conversation or hearing ladies talk about gentlemen who are supposed to join us shortly.”
“The footmen say that the Duke of Pemberton will grace us with his presence,” Abigail noted in a mellow voice. “Did His Grace arrive yet? Is he one of the gentlemen you ran away from just now?”
At the mention of the Duke, Lavinia’s stomach churned as she remembered her mother’s conversation with Lady St. Vincent.
“I heard such a terrible rumor about him.” She laid a hand on her stomach, forcing it to calm. “You will not believe it.”
“I might be tempted to believe anything, Miss Fitzroy,” Abigail returned. “I do not doubt whispers and quiet conversations the way you do.”
“I… I believe the gossips when they report the truth.” Lavinia stood and stepped closer to her maid so she could lower her voice. “What have you heard about the Duke?”
“He has quite the reputation, miss. Everyone says that he’s a rake and that he has little regard for propriety,” Abigail confided.
“Oh…” Lavinia squirmed uncomfortably. “I hate to hear it.”
Abigail laid out the gown she’d been holding all this time on the bed, then turned back to Lavinia. “Why are you so distraught, miss? Have you met the Duke already?”
Lavinia shook her head. “I have yet to meet him, but I am inclined to think he cannot be as bad as they say. I quite admire Lady Madeline, his sister, as you know…” She paused and waited for her maid to nod.
“And the Dowager Duchess has been a real friend to my parents.” She plucked her hairbrush from her dresser and ran her gloved fingers over the bristles.
“You know that many in the ton mock my parents and laugh at them behind their backs, but Henrietta and Madeline Linfield have never been so cruel or callous. I did not see them arrive earlier, but when they get here, I am certain they will truly celebrate my parents’ wedding anniversary and wish them every happiness going forward. ”
“Hmm…” Abigail hummed thoughtfully. “And you think that because the Dowager Duchess of Pemberton and Lady Madeline are gentle-hearted people, His Grace must be just the same?”
Lavinia knew what her maid was implying.
“Just because I call the Dowager Duchess and Lady Madeline my friends, does not mean that His Grace shares any of their traits. He could be just as roguish as Lady St. Vincent claimed.”
Slowly, she replaced her brush on the dresser, then tapped her fingers along the smooth surface of her diamond necklace.
“I will watch the Duke closely,” she concluded. “I will decide for myself whether he is worthy of my trust.”