Chapter Three
Gwendolyn stood with her hands clenched at her sides.
Men were milling around her as if they were spiders and she were a fly they wanted to catch in their webs.
She wasn’t sure which way to look. The two men, Roland Montgomery and Major Enderby, who might have offered some protection, had both disappeared.
She didn’t want to face Sir Percy, and even Robert Walker whose affection and admiration could usually be counted on, seemed unlikely to offer her the support she needed right now.
She was startled when someone touched her arm.
Grace Blythe, who should have given her the cut direct after her earlier outrageous behavior towards the major, looked at her with kindness that made Gwendolyn feel even less sure of herself.
Grace’s words covered the embarrassment both girls felt.
“Oh, look. Freya and Isolde are here too. I had not seen them earlier in all the crush. It would be remiss not to greet them.”
Gwendolyn gave Grace a swift look and then nodded.
Her young rival’s words sounded cheerful but lines of tension creased her eyes.
Gwendolyn had no time to ponder because Bonnie rushed the three of them towards where Isolde was smiling up at a handsome young officer who had been her supper partner.
But when she spotted Bonnie and the others, she turned to them with a smile.
When greetings were over, Mariana said, “Our group is short of one member. I do not see Miss Saunders here this evening.”
“She isn’t. It is unfair that just because she earns money by working as a companion and governess that she is not included in invitations to balls and parties,” Bonnie said.
“Miss Saunders is the granddaughter of Admiral Sutherland and knows more about how to conduct oneself as a lady than I do. And she’s awfully good fun, even though she makes me learn lists of useless French verbs and read improving books rather than novels. ”
“If you want to convince us that you really are grown up,” Grace said gently but with a laugh in her voice, “then you won’t mention such horrid things as verbal conjugations.”
Chatting and laughing, the girls made their way back to the ballroom where the musicians were playing the opening bars of a new dance.
*
Roland Montgomery paused his conversation with Lady Wetherspoon to watch the group of ladies as they paused just inside the room, framed by an arch of white lilies and roses and lit by the lights of a hundred candles in a crystal chandelier above them.
They made a charming picture of youth and beauty, but his eyes were drawn to Gwendolyn.
It was not only the vivid color of her dress amongst the whites and pale blues the others wore that made her stand out.
There was something compelling in the loveliness of her face, the sweetness of her mouth, and the brightness of her eyes that fascinated him.
He frowned slightly as he noted Miss Blythe arm-in-arm with Isolde Heywood.
Bonnie was leaning close to Mariana and Freya as the three of them whispered about something that made them giggle.
But Gwendolyn stood a little way behind them, with the group but not really part of it.
Attuned to her as he was quickly becoming, he was aware of the tightness of her mouth and the wistfulness in her eyes.
She looked a little like the runt of the last litter his bitch had birthed, one of them but an outcast. The others were too good-natured to exclude her completely but they did not share the camaraderie with her that was evident among the rest. When Bonnie turned to her sister and said something to which the others responded with smiles and laughter, Gwendolyn’s smile lagged behind theirs and none of them drew her into their circle.
She seemed to sense that she was being watched and looked up, but glowered when Roland Montgomery caught her gaze and held it.
Everything around him slowed down and faded into the distance.
For one wild moment, nothing mattered other than discovering how to help her feel welcome and accepted.
Loved. And he wanted to be the one to guide her to understand the error of her flirtatious ways so that the rest of the world would see she was, indeed, a sensitive and intelligent woman.
With great effort, he forced himself to listen to what Lady Wetherspoon was saying.
How absurd it was to let Gwendolyn Burroughs’s charms work on him when he had come to London expressly to convince Robert that she was to be avoided.
*
Gwendolyn’s scowl deepened. Why was Lord Montgomery staring at her?
He had been polite, even kind, during supper, but she couldn’t help but feel that he was not as enamored of her as most gentlemen were.
She had detected a scarcely hidden scorn and distaste in his demeanor towards her while they danced and he had not hidden his contempt at the way she had flirted with Major Enderby and some of the other gentlemen during supper.
But there was nothing untoward in her behavior that could earn his disapproval now.
She was standing beside some of the most unexceptionable young ladies in London and she was not even making eye contact with any man.
She wriggled and shrugged, trying to make her dress cover more of her bosom.
Lord Montgomery was still frowning at her.
She could only suppose that she had made some slight breach of etiquette that he found intolerable.
His hard, penetrating gaze held her eyes steadily and she couldn’t break away.
Lord Montgomery finally turned away to say something to Lady Wetherspoon. Gwendolyn took a deep breath and tried to make sense of what the other members of the Seven Perfect Days Club were discussing.
Bonnie clapped her hands and gushed, “Oh, that’s marvelous! It’s just like a story in a book.” Isolde Heywood blushed. “I’m sure it’s nothing like that. But I am grateful that I ventured into Mme Beaufort’s shop that day. Lady Maynard is kindness itself and has included me in all kinds of outings.”
Freya slid her arm around Isolde’s waist. “Mama is kind but we have gained the pleasure of your company, too. Although I am sure destiny would have led you and Colonel Mannering together even if you had not come to the opera with us last week. Your fate is written in the stars.”
“Just imagine, meeting the man of your dreams in real life and finding out that his destiny coincides with yours. I think it is very romantic that he changed his plans so that he will travel on the same ship as you to the Cape. I am sure it will not be long before you are married,” Mariana said dreamily.
Isolde smiled dreamily but common sense and propriety forced her to say, “It doesn’t do to count one’s chickens before they hatch, but I am pleased that I will know someone other than my brother when we arrive in the Cape. A few weeks aboard ship provides much time to become better acquainted.”
An extremely handsome, dark-haired man with brooding eyes and an air of distraction came up in time to hear her words.
His hand flew to his breast and his eyes grew even darker.
“When a man encounters his destiny, he must follow the star even if it takes him beyond the vestiges of the known world.” He bowed gravely, took Isolde’s hand and kissed it lightly before leading her onto the dance floor, leaving the others to swoon at such a show of romantic behavior.
Gwendolyn passingly mused that the colonel didn’t seem to know the difference between vestiges and frontiers. She was not quite as impressed as the other girls by Isolde’s admirer.
The young ladies of the Perfect Days club were not left to indulge their thoughts for long as one by one they were quickly claimed by their own partners for the dance, leaving only Gwendolyn and Mariana at the edge of the room.
Gwendolyn watched Major Enderby take his place opposite Grace. She shifted uneasily, remembering that her mother had forced him to have the following dance with her. Her head was pounding and she was finding it difficult to draw a breath.
For the first time in her life, she had no desire to dance or flirt, even with the amiable and elegant Mr. Walker, who was making his way determinedly towards her.
She uttered a swear word she had picked up from one of the footmen and, before Mariana could stop her, slipped out of the ballroom.
Dodging past the servants who were clearing away the supper, she hurried down a long corridor until she found a secluded alcove where Lady Wetherspoon had thoughtfully placed a little love seat.
Thankfully, Gwendolyn sank down onto it and covered her face with her hands. She did not often suffer from headaches but tonight every cell in her body had found a little hammer and was banging it against her forehead in an attempt to escape.
“So this is where you’re hiding from me. I almost didn’t see you hidden away here, but there’s no mistaking the vivid hue of your dress.”
Gwendolyn raised her head to look at Mr. Walker. The anger in his eyes faded as he took in her peaked eyes and pale face. “Good God, Miss Burroughs. Are you all right? Can I get you something? A glass of wine, perhaps.”
“I am well,” she replied feebly. “It is just that I needed a little fresh air.”
He sat down beside her on the little love seat and took her hand in his. “I could accompany you out into the garden. I know of a little, seldom-used side door near here that leads into a quiet shrubbery where we would not be disturbed while you recover.”
The idea was very tempting and Mr. Walker’s voice was so caring that she almost gave in but she retained just enough of her sense of propriety to refuse. “That sounds wonderful. I love being outside in the moonlight but I will be fine if I can rest here for a moment.”