Chapter 11
“And you intend to speak with Lord Blackwood this evening?”
Jonathan nodded, looking around the ballroom and hoping that he might catch sight of the very gentleman he wished to find.
The room was ablaze with candlelight and color — the swirl of silk gowns in every shade of the Season, the flash of jewels at throats and wrists, the constant murmur of conversation punctuated by bright laughter.
An enormous arrangement of hothouse flowers stood at the center of the room, filling the air with a heavy, sweet fragrance that mingled with the warmth of so many bodies and the smoke of the candles. “Yes. I think I must.”
“What will you ask him?”
He shrugged. “What I must. I will ask where his information about the Duke of Somerset came from. Thereafter, I will go to speak with whoever it is Lord Blackwood has indicated until I reach the truth.”
“I see.” Lord Kettering’s eyebrows lifted. “Very much like taking the end of a thread and pulling it until you find where it comes from.”
“Precisely.”
“Good evening, Lord Kettering, Lord Lancashire.”
Jonathan tried not to grimace at the interruption, forcing a smile that he did not want to place on his expression. “Lady Honora, good evening.” He looked to her mother. “Lady Birmingham, good evening to you also.”
The young lady smiled warmly as Lady Birmingham burst into a flurry of welcome, speaking at length to Jonathan and to Lord Kettering without seeming to draw breath.
His eyebrows lifted as Lady Birmingham continued on and on about how wonderful the ball was, how delightful it was to be present amongst the ton, and how excellent the Season was in general.
Lady Honora’s cheeks grew warm, and Jonathan could not help but feel a slight pang of sympathy for her.
It must be something of a trial to have a mother so very exuberant.
“I was just saying to my brother that he ought to throw his own ball or soiree, but he is a gentleman somewhat disinclined towards such things.” Lady Birmingham shook her head and let out a sigh. “Lady Blackwood, of course, is most particular, so I must hope that she will be able to convince him!”
Jonathan’s ears pricked up at the mention of Lord Blackwood. “You are related to Lord Blackwood, then?” he asked, as Lady Honora nodded. “I did not know the connection.”
“He is my uncle,” Lady Honora said, before her mother could speak. “I do not know him very well, since they are so far from us, but –”
“Oh, but you know him well enough, my dear!” Lady Birmingham exclaimed. “You need not say otherwise.”
Lady Honora’s smile faded a little. “Are you acquainted with him, Lord Lancashire?”
“I am, yes. We were introduced some years ago, but I have not spoken to him as yet this Season.”
“I am sure that Honora would be very glad indeed to take you to speak with her uncle, should you wish it?” Lady Birmingham suggested. “Mayhap, after a dance, you might –”
Lady Honora’s face went scarlet. “Mother, I am quite sure that Lord Lancashire can speak with Lord Blackwood without my help.”
Jonathan shared a look with Lord Kettering, who, thus far, had been silent.
Was this his opportunity to speak with Lord Blackwood?
Lady Honora was quite correct to state that he could do such a thing of his own volition, but at the same time, there would be no harm in having her bring him to the gentleman.
“Lord Kettering and I would both be delighted to add your name to our dance cards,” he said, making Lady Honora smile with clear relief. “Might I?”
She nodded and handed him her dance card, only for two other young ladies to approach.
Within a few minutes, Jonathan found himself signing not one but five dance cards, which made him somewhat frustrated.
His intention had not been to dance this evening, and now, he was standing up for a good many!
And I do not have the one person I should very much like to dance with again on my card.
His eyes closed briefly as he took in a long breath, steadying himself inwardly and casting away all thought of Lady Susanna.
He could not allow himself any such freedom, not when he did not know the truth about her father’s situation – and even if he was to dare think of her again, there was no promise that she would ever allow her heart to return to him again, no matter how much he might desire it.
“Thank you, Lady Honora. That was a wonderful dance.” Jonathan meant every word, for Lady Honora had been an excellent dance partner – a good deal better than Lady Theresa, who had come before.
She had been much more inclined towards conversation and, thus, had missed her steps on more than one occasion.
Lady Honora, by contrast, had spoken well but danced every step without faltering, making no errors and yet managing to converse without difficulty also.
He had appreciated that. “Should you like to take my arm?”
“I would be glad to, I thank you.” She winced. “So long as you are aware that my mother will be following us at a very close distance, Lord Lancashire. I am sorry for that.”
Jonathan looked over his shoulder, just as Lady Birmingham pushed forward towards them. He offered Lady Honora a rueful smile. “She is doing all she can to care for you, just as a mother ought.”
“You are very kind,” was the only response as they began to walk around the ballroom in what Jonathan hoped was the direction of Lord Blackwood.
” The lady said nothing more, perhaps waiting for him to make conversation, but Jonathan struggled to think of what to say.
He was now centering all of his thoughts upon Lord Blackwood, thinking of how best to go about asking all he wanted to know without appearing rude.
Then his gaze, as it drifted across the room, caught on a familiar face. Dark brown eyes held his, dark eyelashes blinking quickly, and Jonathan’s stomach dropped.
Lady Susanna.
What must she be thinking now, seeing him with Lady Honora on his arm?
A cold chill ran over his skin, and he fought against the instant, sweeping desire to drop Lady Honora’s arm and to step away from her.
He could not do such a thing, and yet his sole desire was to do precisely that.
She was standing with Lady Ellen, her hands clasped together before her, and even from this distance, he could see the way her posture stiffened, the way her chin lifted a fraction higher — that particular brand of composure she wore when she was trying very hard not to show her hurt.
He knew it because he had come to know her, truly know her, in those stolen moments last Season.
He knew every small tell of her distress, and the knowledge burned.
Lady Susanna turned her head away sharply, and Jonathan let out a low groan, squeezing his eyes closed for a second or two, his whole body now burning with a fierce, furious heat that only caused him pain.
“Lord Lancashire?”
Flashing Lady Honora a smile that was, he was sure, more like a snarl than anything else, he lifted both shoulders and then let them fall. “Forgive me. I – I think that I must have –”
“Oh, look! There is my uncle.”
Relief poured into Jonathan’s frame, relief that he did not have to explain to Lady Honora the reason for his groan as well as relief that Lord Blackwood was finally in his sights.
Letting Lady Honora lead him, he walked towards the gentleman, recognizing him at once.
Lord Blackwood was an older fellow, with keen grey eyes and a thick moustache which he almost continually ran his fingers over.
The reputation he had built for himself was impressive, and even now, as they approached, Jonathan’s heart tugged towards worry.
He did not want to do anything to upset the gentleman, knowing just how well he was regarded by all those about him – and even by the King!
“Uncle, good evening.” Lady Honora smiled warmly as her uncle turned towards her. “I do hope you are enjoying the ball?”
“Yes, yes.” Lord Blackwood waved one hand, somewhat dismissively. “It is pleasant enough, as such things are.” His eyes shot towards Jonathan. “And you, Lord Lancashire. It has been some time since we have been in company together, is it?”
Jonathan inclined his head, glad that the gentleman remembered him. “Yes, it has been.”
“Brother!” From behind him, Lady Birmingham’s voice flew over Jonathan’s shoulder, only for her to then come around his right-hand side to greet Lord Blackwood. “Is not Honora doing well this evening? She has almost all of her dances filled!”
Lord Blackwood smiled briefly, then took Lady Birmingham’s hand. “You are making certain that all which can be done is being done for her,” he said, as Lady Birmingham smiled. “I am sure Honora is grateful for that.”
“Of course I am.” Honora glanced towards Jonathan, then bit her lip. Jonathan, seeing his opportunity, seized it quickly before Lady Birmingham could say anything more.
“Lord Blackwood, I do not know if you recall, but last Season, I received a letter from you which offered me some advice. I wonder if –”
Lord Blackwood’s eyebrows rose, and he interrupted Jonathan without warning. “Forgive me, Lord Lancashire, but I am quite sure I did not ever write to you.”
Jonathan blinked rapidly. “I beg your pardon?”
“I am a gentleman who prides myself on carefully recording all that I share and the like,” he said, his eyes seeming to hold a sharpness now which had not been there before. “I do not recall ever writing to you, I am afraid.”
“It was not this Season but the last,” Jonathan said again, wondering if the gentleman had misheard him. “I am quite sure it was by your hand, Lord Blackwood.”
The gentleman shook his head. “I am afraid you must be mistaken, Lord Lancashire. I have not ever written to you, I am quite sure of it.”