Chapter Three
Aaron sat silently in the carriage with his mother as they travelled to the dreaded ball.
He stared out the window, but he could see the dowager with a sidelong glance.
She looked directly at him as though she wanted to say something, and he was sure she had noticed his rigid posture and the way his fingers tapped restlessly against his knee.
She looked away, her sigh only evident in the noticeable rise and fall of her shoulders.
She looked to her other side, touching the empty seat beside her, the seat which would have been Charlotte’s, were she still with them.
She did not need to speak for Aaron to know that she was thinking of all the times that Charlotte sat beside her, bursting with excitement about the event they were about to attend.
“Thank you for agreeing to attend this ball with me, darling,” the dowager said, her voice thick with the emotions that her memories were no doubt evoking within her.
Aaron shrugged, knowing he should not say the words, even as he spoke them.
“It is my duty to attend such events,” he said tersely. “It is what is expected of me.”
His mother’s recoiling confirmed the coldness of his words. He had done a poor job of concealing his discomfort about rejoining society. He was aware that she was only trying to help him. But in moments like that, he wished she would stop helping.
When they arrived at Lady Juliette’s townhouse, Aaron tried not to look as miserable as he felt.
But the tension was evident, even in his mother’s smile as she greeted acquaintances on their way into the manor.
Aaron noted the stares; indeed, they were impossible to miss when many people ceased their conversations and looked at him with wide-eyed amazement.
It was as if a foreign wild animal had just entered the house, and no one could look away.
I knew this was a horrible idea, he thought, even as he formally greeted one of his father’s business partners. This is all I have to look forward to this evening.
Still, he pressed on, escorting his mother to the ballroom.
Candlelight illuminated the room in golden splendor, which was accentuated by the gold candelabras and chandeliers, the gold framed paintings and the green of the ribbons and wreaths that decorated the room.
The orchestra began the first musical notes of the evening, and couples began making their way to the center of the dance floor.
It would have been a delight to Charlotte, and to his mother if she were there with them.
But to him, it was merely his cage for the rest of the evening.
He excused himself to allow his mother to mingle at her leisure, retreating to a grand marble column, his posture unchanged since he boarded the carriage.
His mother had found a temporary moment of happiness speaking with one of her friends who had remained in correspondence with her after Charlotte vanished.
Thus, he was content to hide behind the pillar for as long as he could manage.
He was not oblivious to the eager glances of the young debutantes and their ambitious mothers.
However, he paid no heed, employing his icy demeanor to deflect and disregard their aspirations.
He was certain that the evening would yield fresh fodder for gossip, as had often been the case.
Yet he was no stranger to finding himself the subject of scandalous whispers.
He would persist in his indifference, as he always had.
As for his mother, she would be spared, as long as he maintained his presence of mind and did not outwardly display his discontent.
“Quite the impressive assembly, is it not?" Graham remarked, suddenly materializing beside him.
Aaron looked at his cousin, relieved to see one face which did not give him a terrible chill.
“You need not remind me,” he retorted sharply, obscuring his face as he rolled his eyes. “Those thirsting for scandal have already fixed their appetites onto me. I can practically hear what they are saying from across the room.”
Graham clapped him gently on the back, giving him a sympathetic look.
“I know how unhappy you are here,” he said softly, fixing his expression as though the men were engaged in a lighthearted conversation. “But it is a wonderful thing you are doing for Aunt Catherine, escorting her to this ball.”
Aaron nodded and sighed.
“I am aware,” he said. “But it feels far from wonderful.”
Graham nodded and went to speak again. But there was a shift in the crowd, drawing Aaron’s and Graham’s attention to the entrance.
The butler announced the arrival of the Earl of Garenshire and his daughters, Lady Emily and Lady Helena Crawford.
He noticed that the guests stopped to stare at the family as they had at his mother and him when they arrived.
He also saw how one of the women guided the other through the parting guests with a quiet dignity that was unlike the demeanor of the giddy, foolish young ladies who were trying to get his attention.
As they moved closer to the brilliant light of the chandeliers, Aaron could tell that the dignified one was the older sister.
Her face was similar to her sister’s, and he might have questioned the age difference, were it not for an ageless weight and sadness in the eyes of the older one.
Lady Helena, was it not? He quietly mused as the women followed their father, who seemed to be projecting a proud ambiance, shielding himself and his daughters from the judgments of the gossipers.
When the older sister led the younger to a shadowed alcove framed by climbing vines just a few paces from him, Aaron realized that he knew why they were the new focus of all eyes.
Lady Helena, if he recalled correctly, had been the center of a scandal a couple of years prior.
It was just before Charlotte disappeared and Vivian ended their betrothal.
The woman had been caught in a compromising position, after which the man with whom she had been found vanished, leaving her reputation ruined.
Aaron had not meant to eavesdrop. But he caught one sentence that further piqued his curiosity about the sisters. Particularly, Lady Helena.
“Darling, I know that you are excited, and I am very grateful for that,” she said, in a voice so low it was miraculous that Aaron could hear.
“But you must maintain proper decorum. Your smile is brilliant, and your wit is unmatched. But you must temper that with a little restraint, as any proper lady would do.”
Lady Emily paused, seemingly taking a measured breath, her expression one of keen interest in her sister’s counsel rather than one of reproach.
“Of course, Sister,” she said. “I can manage that.”
Lady Helena smiled at her sister, and Aaron noticed for the first time how beautiful she was. He was drawn in by their dignity and their quiet confidence despite society’s censure, and he felt more intrigued than he had all evening.
***
Helena was relieved when their aunt approached the two sisters, carrying herself regally as she worked through the clusters of people who had stopped to stare at them.
As childish as it was, it was soothing to have the presence of a maternal figure with her as she struggled to appear unbothered by the staring and whispering.
At the woman’s arrival, people stopped whispering and began to pretend they were attentive to other things.
“My darlings, you both look so beautiful,” she said, smiling warmly at Helena. “I am proud of your bravery. Everyone, especially the two of you, deserve to find happiness, regardless of past sorrows. Your mother would be proud, as well.”
Helena bit back tears at her aunt’s kindness.
“I wish that everyone felt as you do, Aunt,” she said, glancing toward a group of particularly prying individuals.
Beatrice turned and gave them a pointed glance which left no room for debate as to what she was thinking about their disgusting leering. The matrons scurried away, looking frightened, which brought a brief smile to Helena’s face.
But a moment later, the Crawford sisters were no longer the focus of the room.
The butler announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Warwick, and Helena felt a sudden pang of dread.
She watched as Diana and Simon entered, looking admittedly astonishing after their two-year sojourn in Italy, to whence they had vanished after their sudden wedding.
Diana wore a Continental-style dress, similar to the blue of Helena’s, with a low neckline which exposed the top of her bosom, a high waistline which accentuated the outline of her breasts and a full skirt with rosettes dotting it, complete with a train which glittered with sapphires.
Simon was dressed in a suit which matched, save for the gemstones and rosettes, which were replaced with gold embroidery.
He looked smug as he walked beside Diana, whose confident smile had not changed one bit since Helena learned the truth of her betrayal.
When Beatrice had learned of the events that transpired, she could scarcely contain her wrath as she divulged what she had overheard at an intimate supper gathering hosted by Lady Melbourne, one of her dearest acquaintances.
She recounted how audaciously Diana prattled on about her cunning machinations that led to Helena’s unfortunate predicament, and how she had achieved her aim: to ensnare Simon for her own purposes.
The memory made Helena feel ill, and she gripped her fan tightly. The bitter truth had made Beatrice’s loyalty and support all the more invaluable. But it had done little to soothe the anguish caused by such deep betrayal of the two people Helena had loved and trusted most outside her family.