Chapter One #2
The corners of Roland’s mouth tightened and he shot a withering glance at Gwendolyn which was completely lost on her. She was staring longingly at the handsome, brooding major in his crimson coat, on which an array of medals glinted in the candlelight.
His posture was even more rigid when he realized that nothing of this had escaped his aunt’s attention.
Lady Preston’s eyes followed Gwendolyn’s gaze.
She gave a light laugh. “I see poor Roland has little chance of causing the belle of the ball to suffer a bouleverssement when she dances with him. Like all the other young ladies here, the estimable beauty is besotted with men in uniform, especially the great war hero. All other contenders for her attention are invisible in the shade cast by the light of Major Enderby.” There was a sharp edge to her tone that caused Gwendolyn to take a wary step backwards.
Lord Roland Montgomery was not, as his aunt thought, eager to become one of the heedless young swains who worshipped at the feet of the incomparable belle of London Society.
His interest in Gwendolyn Burroughs was much less flattering.
Even though he had remained at his father’s main country seat near Solway Firth during the previous Season, he had heard of how the young beauty had erupted into the London scene, leaving a trail of broken hearts in her wake.
Roland Montgomery had not visited the capital for many years and was here now only because of an alarming letter he had received from his cousin Samantha Havers. Usually he skimmed her letters, finding the gossip of the ton tedious and irrelevant to the work he was engaged in on his estates.
Almost at the end of Samantha’s letter, she had written:
When last did you see Robert Walker?
Roland had frowned. Walker, a distant relative of his father’s, was not someone with whom Roland spent much time.
Walker wasted his days with other idle young men betting on horses, drinking blue ruin in Seven Dials, and cavorting with prostitutes while waiting to inherit their father’s titles and estates.
Roland Montgomery had nothing in common with Robert Walker and was of the opinion that it was a great pity that there was no nearer paternal relative to keep some kind of control over Walker’s spendthrift ways.
Unless Roland married and produced an heir, Robert would inherit the barony that had been in the Montgomery family since the time of the Plantagenets and Roland did not wish to leave his heritage to such a man.
Lord Roland Montgomery had, at the somewhat advanced age of two-and-thirty, not entirely forsaken the idea of marrying, but he had fastidious tastes and was determined to marry a woman of good virtue and common sense who would carry forward the reputation of the Montgomery name.
He frowned as he returned to Samantha’s letter.
He had no real interest in Walker’s doings but he did not want anyone associated with the Montgomery family to bring disgrace upon the illustrious name.
Robert has fallen head over heels with this Season’s most popular débutante. He follows her around like a lost little puppy dog and is never happier than when she bestows one of her charming smiles on him.
Cousin, I must warn you that she is flirtatious, frivolous and a fortune hunter.
Her mother is Lady Burroughs, and much of her vulgarity has been passed on to the daughter.
I am not sure how much influence you have over Robert, but he must be stopped in his pursuit of her before he becomes the laughingstock of the ton.
Within two minutes of meeting Miss Burroughs, Lord Montgomery was convinced that everything Samantha had said about her was true.
Her vivid pink dress, while well-made, was ostentatious and showed more of her abundant breasts than was suitably modest. And her manners were appalling.
Her mother’s sycophantic fawning hinged on embarrassing.
He was more determined than ever to prevent any kind of liaison between this family and his.
*
Lady Burroughs smiled tightly at Lady Preston and glowered at Gwendolyn, producing a most unbecoming grimace.
She, too, harbored dreams that Gwendolyn would marry the most toasted gentleman in all of London, and she simpered, “Major Enderby has shown a partiality for Gwendolyn, and I am sure he will honor her with a dance tonight. But she will be delighted to dance with Lord Montgomery.” Lady Burroughs always hedged her bets.
His clothes were finely made, he was neat and presentable, and she had heard him spoken of as having a very respectable income of ten thousand a year.
He fitted all the criteria on her list, and she was determined not to let Gwendolyn spoil her chances.
Mariana, who had been standing quietly in the shadows of a giant palm, spoke for the first time. “Major Enderby is betrothed to Grace Blythe.”
Lady Burroughs glared at her. “Nonsense, child. Wherever did you come up with such an idea? Nothing has been announced in the newspapers.” She raised her lorgnette and perused Grace Blythe who was standing in front of the major, her head slightly bowed as he spoke to her.
Lady Burroughs dropped her lorgnette and snapped her fan open.
“The major is far too fashionable to settle for a quiet country mouse, even if her father owns a large estate in one of the home counties.”
Lady Preston’s tallest feather bobbed regally as she completed her inspection of the Blythes and Major Enderby.
“The major is the toast of the town, the darling of society and is inundated with invitations to dinners and soirées from every mother who has an unmarried daughter. He is, one could say, spoilt for choice and seems to have made an eminently suitable selection. The Blythes might not be titled, but they are genteel. The girls behave with decorum and have impeccable manners.” She swept her gaze over Gwendolyn as if those descriptions could never be applied to her.
A look of fury flashed across Lady Burroughs’s face but she quickly regained her composure and laughed lightly, “The major is much sought after, and he is courteous to many young ladies, but Gwendolyn was the most popular débutante of last Season and is already making her mark this year. Many eligible young men seek her company.”
“Indeed, the honorable Miss Burroughs is a diamond of the first water, and any gentleman would be honored to dance with her.” Roland bowed gravely, but Gwendolyn had the distinct impression that she was being mocked.
She did not miss the slight emphasis he placed on the word dance.
Her lips tightened and she held her head stiffly, staring at some indefinite spot in front of her.
She was determined not to look at the major again or at the man who stood in front of her and who, for a reason she could not discern, showed such disdain for her.
Lady Burroughs simpered, suddenly recalling that she should not alienate the gentleman who was right here, and whom, gossip averred, possessed a large fortune.
“Dancing is such a genteel way for a lady to become acquainted with a gentleman. Gwendolyn, give Sir Montmorency your card. And smile, dear.”
Gwendolyn handed the card over as if she had been asked to sacrifice her favorite kitten.
“Do you have a pencil, Lord Montgomery?” Her subtle correction of her mother’s mistake gave her a way of snubbing this unwanted partner, but the snub was lost on both intended recipients.
On her mother, because she was already seeking an acquaintance who was on intimate terms with the Enderby family and could further Gwendolyn’s chances to be noticed by the major.
And on the baron because he had not been paying much attention to Lady Burroughs, focusing rather on her daughter.
“Why, thank you, Miss Burroughs, I always ensure I am equipped with whatever items might be necessary for such emergencies.” A small pencil appeared in his hand as if he had conjured it out of the air.
Gwendolyn pretended indifference by gazing at the leaf of a palm tree next to him but from the corner of her eye, she noticed how Lord Montgomery’s pencil hovered over the two places where Robert Walker’s name had been signed with an almost illegible scrawl.
She could not imagine that he had ever even met the suave and fashionable man whose company she particularly enjoyed.
Roland Montgomery gave a slight shake of the head but, he only said, “I would be delighted to dance the Fairy Dance with you.” He signed his name somberly and handed the card back to Gwendolyn with a tiny tic of his mouth and a glint of irony in his eyes.
Gwendolyn’s scowl deepened when she saw that Roland Montgomery had written his name down for the supper dance, which she had been keeping open in the hope that she could lure Major Enderby to choose that set and so be expected to accompany her to supper.
She was just about to protest when she realized Roland Montgomery was looking at her with an air of keen intelligence and a hint of contempt that was deeply unsettling.
She had the odd sense that he could see right into her heart and read all her deepest secrets.
She swallowed the tight lump in her throat as she took back her card.
Gwendolyn fidgeted with her dance card, but was surprised when Lord Montgomery turned to Mariana. All irony and disdain vanished from his voice. “Miss Winterton, is your card full or is there still an open slot for a humble man who cannot dare compete with the illustrious Major?”
Mariana looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t need to dance with me, my lord. Really, I enjoy just watching.” She was, as usual, dressed very simply with no ornamentation in her hair and no jewelry. She never danced and never expected to be asked.