Chapter 1
London
She was going to be late.
It was her own fault, of course. She hadn’t really wanted to come. While not exactly shunned, she was hardly a darling of society, and it was a bit of a mystery to her why she’d been invited to the Allens’ benefit ball.
“Because Henry Allen made a wager at White’s that he can raise more money from his benefit ball than Lady Cartwright can from hers,” was Fanny’s explanation.
“He must have wagered very dear, if he’s willing to go to such lengths to win,” Evangeline retorted.
“He always has done,” observed Fanny. “No head for gambling, that one. Still,” she went on, “you might as well go. It’s for a good cause, after all, and I shall be there.
” When Evangeline still hesitated, she added, “And it will give Beatrice Allen the start of her life, to see you walk through her door again.”
“The invitation was in her handwriting,” said Evangeline sourly.
Once upon a time, she had considered Lady Allen a friend.
After Court’s ignominious death, though, Beatrice had ceased responding to her letters.
Evangeline had always suspected that was as much Lord Allen’s doing as Beatrice’s own wish, but it still stung.
Allen had been one of Court’s closest friends, and Evangeline knew he had been well aware of her husband’s predilections.
She suspected Allen shared them, and had probably recoiled from the scandal as a threat to his own affairs.
Beatrice, perhaps, had dropped her friendship to avoid having to consider her own husband’s tastes.
Fanny smiled in victory. “Then she must truly want you to come, my dear.”
So Evangeline gave in—or rather, fell for Fanny’s manipulations yet again.
And now she would be even later than could be called fashionable, as the carriage crawled in fits and starts along the street toward the well-lit house with footmen on the steps.
Twice she nearly told the coachman to turn around and take her home, or on to Fanny’s house, where she regularly spent the night to avoid the long drive to Chelsea.
But still she dithered, until the last side street had been crossed and there was no alternative but to stop in front of the Allens’, screw up her courage, and go inside.
“Lady Allen,” she cried warmly, clasping fingertips with the hostess. “How delightful to see you again.”
Beatrice Allen faltered a moment before she assumed a smile that was both simpering and stiff. “And you, Lady Courtenay.”
“I was so delighted to receive your invitation,” she went on, unable to resist a little vengeance.
“Such a worthy cause! How very noble of you and Lord Allen to take it up. Those poor, dear children deserve every bit of your support.” Beatrice’s eyes flashed murder.
“And ours, of course—we fortunate members of society who can afford to provide for them,” Evangeline added lightly.
Lately, Lord Allen had decided he was a philanthropist and patron of sundry impressive causes.
He’d named this event a “benefit ball,” with the noble (somewhat ostentatiously so) goal of raising funds for the Foundling Hospital.
Allen had probably contributed a few bastard children himself to such homes, and Evangeline had to admit the irony was partly what had persuaded her to come.
“Yes,” said Beatrice Allen, her face and her tone wooden. “Of course. We are so pleased you accepted.”
You hoped I wouldn’t have the nerve, thought Evangeline as she tipped her head graciously.
Well. Enough of that ancient history, water so far under the bridge that it had reached the ocean.
Evangeline knew she’d been invited for her wealth, not for her company.
Tonight, she decided she would not care.
Defiantly she smiled and nodded at a passing matron who was goggling at her.
There would be dancing, a singer, and several prominent guests of honor making short speeches about their work, and then an appeal for funds.
She’d come to enjoy herself, no matter why she’d been invited.
“At last!” Fanny reached for her hands and pressed them as Evangeline joined her. “Thank God you’ve come. I thought I might perish of boredom.”
She smiled at her friend. “You are never bored.”
Fanny rolled her eyes. “Beatrice wanted that opera singer—do you know the one I mean? The Italian woman?” She waved one hand impatiently at Evangeline’s blank look.
“Quite scandalous, I believe. Allen refused to have her. He’s such a tedious fellow.
” She lifted a glass of champagne from a passing tray and raised it in salute.
“So there’s not to be a singer?” Evangeline also took a glass. She adored champagne. It was one of the few unadulterated pleasures of these events.
“No, only musicians. Lord Allen invited several speakers.” Her expression said everything about that. “It will be a miracle if I survive the evening without dozing off.”
“Hush,” said Evangeline with a laugh. “We mustn’t slight the speakers before they even begin.”
“You’re far more patient than I,” murmured the other woman. “Although one of the honored guests is rather handsome. When he speaks, I shall be very attentive.”
“Oh?” Evangeline flicked open her fan. “Which one?”
“An explorer. He’s to speak of his journeys in Africa tonight. Or the Arctic. I’m not sure, and it doesn’t matter.”
Now that would interest Evangeline. She looked around in real hope. “How fascinating. Who is he?”
“His name is Campion,” said Fanny. “Swiss, and extremely handsome, did I mention it?”
“Twice, as a matter of fact,” Evangeline replied.
Fanny grinned. “Let us beg an introduction.”
Evangeline laughed and agreed.
Arm in arm, they made their way through the crowd.
Fanny had embraced her reputation as an eccentric, knowing the vast Woodville fortune made her a highly favored eccentric.
Tonight she wore peacock feathers in her turban and a gown of spangled green silk that blazed brightly in the candlelight. Evangeline aspired to be so dashing.
Lord Allen appeared in front of them. “Lady Woodville! How do you do?”
“Very well, sir, although I was anticipating the soprano, and I hear you refused to have her.” She turned away from his suddenly pinched face to scan the room. “Where are our guests of honor?”
“Mr. Cambridge, the geologist, is with Lady Allen,” said their host, recovering his poise. “And Lord Michael Layne, the famed astronomer, is just by the windows there.”
“I’ve no interest in geology or astronomy,” she told him bluntly, even as he raised one hand as if to lead her to meet either man. “Where is the explorer?”
“Ah, Richard Campion!” Lord Allen rocked on his heels, looking pleased with himself. “The king has just bestowed a knighthood upon him.”
Fanny raised her brows. “Excellent! Allow me to present Lady Courtenay to Sir Richard, then. She’s been longing to make his acquaintance—quite fascinated with the Nile, don’t you know.”
Discomfort flitted over Allen’s face as he was finally forced to speak to Evangeline. “Lady Courtenay. How good of you to come.”
“Thank you, sir.” She smiled, ignoring his strained expression. “I hope we shall do a great deal of good tonight for the children’s home.”
“What? Oh yes, yes.” He cleared his throat. “I see Campion now, Lady Woodville. If you’ll pardon me, I shall bring him to make your acquaintance.” He gave a quick bow and shot off through the crowd.
“Do you think he’ll come near us again tonight?” asked Evangeline in amusement.
Fanny snorted. “He wants two hundred pounds from me tonight. He’d better come near, and bring that explorer with him, if he intends to collect it.”
“I know you’ll give it anyway, for the children’s sake,” said Evangeline.
Her friend gazed at her in affront. “Of course I will. But there’s no reason I can’t make Allen work for it, is there?
It was his decision to throw a party instead of simply asking for subscriptions.
” She went back to studying the room. “Besides, he’s too young for me, but I do believe you will like him. ”
“Lord Allen?” Evangeline shuddered. “Never.”
“No, the explorer!” Fanny tapped her arm with her fan. “Mark my words, he’s a fine one.”
“I’ve no need of a man, thank you.” This was an old conversation between them.
“Need! Who said anything about need?” Fanny scoffed. “I speak of wanting a man.”
“It sounds to me as though you want him for yourself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m far too old for him.” Fanny’s keen gaze swept up and down Evangeline. “But you’re not.”
Fanny was only twelve years older than Evangeline, but sometimes she took an excessive delight in imagining various romances and love affairs for her. “I feel twenty years older just hearing you say that,” she said tartly.
“At least you don’t look it. Here he comes.
” Fanny arranged her face into a welcoming expression as Lord Allen approached, a tall, sandy-haired man barely visible behind him.
Evangeline finished her champagne and glanced around for a servant or table where she could dispose of the glass.
It was advisable to consume more wine, rather than less, before speaking with members of the ton, but it was always so awkward navigating introductions and conversation while holding a glass.
A footman whisked up beside her and she gave him the glass with a grateful look.
“Lady Woodville, Lady Courtenay, allow me to present to you Sir Richard Campion,” Lord Allen was saying.
Evangeline was smiling, her hand already extended, when she looked into Campion’s face.
Oh Lord, she thought with a sinking heart.
“My lady.” Campion gazed back at her with crystal blue eyes. Tall, lanky, handsome as sin, and Evangeline felt the heat of his smile deep in her bones.
“Sir.” She ducked her flushed face as she curtsied.
“He has come to regale us with stories of his adventures into the dark heart of Africa.” Lord Allen pushed out his chest proudly. “I expect you’ve seen all manner of beasts and savages, eh, Campion?”