31. Chapter 31
Lavender pulled her long white gloves up as high as they could stretch.
She’d spent plenty of time this Season listening to the conversations of others around her, but this was different.
Her goal was oddly specific tonight. At precisely half-past ten, she needed to be sitting behind the far pillar in the grand entryway at Almack’s, feigning a headache.
The trouble was sneaking off at the correct time.
She didn’t want to draw undue attention to herself previous to her leaving.
Their carriage rolled up the drive two hours after the beginning of the ball, as they planned, in hopes that gentlemen would have filled most of their dances before her arrival.
Miriam placed a hand on Lavender’s shoulder. “Remember, all you need to do is act as if you have a headache and remember everyone you see pass by.”
Lavender nodded. “And you are certain that Lord Chilcott will find me?” The thought made her insides squirm. She didn’t want to be found alone with him.
“I’m sure,” Miriam said. “But I will be just around the corner.”
This was finally a way Lavender could be helpful.
For so long, she’d felt as if her presence in London wasn’t going to accomplish anything.
If she could help the Duke of Fenleigh’s name be cleared of suspicion for treason, perhaps the man would allow her an introduction.
Tom had recommended Fenleigh himself, and since Tom was unwilling to allow Lavender into his life, she might as well marry someone who would provide for her well.
She trusted Tom’s judgement. She’d told him that an incredible library would make her happy, and Fenleigh’s library was the most incredible she’d ever seen.
The ballroom was already hot and stuffy by the time they walked in. Samuel and Miriam were immediately sought after—as was usual—and Lavender was swept into society’s wake with the suddenness of a sneeze.
Lord Chilcott sidled up to her within five minutes. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.” His eyes roved over her appreciatively. “You are stunning.”
“Thank you.” Lavender looked into Lord Chilcott’s eyes and could only read truth within them. “You look very well yourself.” And he did. His black coat and bottle green waistcoat made his hair lean more toward brown this evening.
“Would you care to dance?”
Lavender nodded. “I would. I am only surprised that you still have any dances remaining for the evening.”
“I have danced with no one else. My sole purpose for the evening is to spend as much of it with you as is socially acceptable.”
Lavender’s cheeks heated through. “How forward you are.” She laughed.
Lord Chilcott shrugged with a satisfied smile.
What had changed in the baron? Their courtship had been blatantly manipulated in the beginning.
He’d not particularly tried to hide that he didn’t fancy Lavender—only that he wanted to court her.
She still did not understand why. But now, his attentions seemed .
. . genuine. It was one thing for Lavender to consider marrying the man to fulfill her father’s dying wish, but she had never intended for her feelings to be touched.
If Lord Chilcott was truly coming to feel something for her, it wouldn’t be fair to marry the man when her heart was still with Tom.
No, she needed a marriage of convenience.
One that would suit both of them. She needed a fortune hunter without a heart in order to be at peace with herself.
The baron stayed glued to Lavender’s side until the musicians were ready for a new set. He led Lavender to the middle of the dance floor. “At last, the reason I came tonight.” He smiled down at her.
Lavender swallowed thickly. “I did not know you enjoyed dancing so much.”
“I don’t particularly care for it, no,” Lord Chilcott said. Then he leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “But I do revel in holding you in my arms.”
“What has come over you?” Lavender asked.
Lord Chilcott’s gaze was all fire and emotion. “Perhaps we can talk about it later.”
Lavender blinked quickly. She didn’t know that she wanted to talk about it at all.
In fact, she could have kicked herself for asking in the first place.
Even with adoration written all over Lord Chilcott’s features, Lavender had no tender feelings toward him.
Under different circumstances, he could have claimed a portion of her heart.
But she knew too much of her own feelings and too much of his machinations.
That part of a man didn’t disappear just because he learned to like someone.
The music drew them together in a waltz.
Lord Chilcott pulled Lavender toward him with purpose and intensity.
She kept shifting her gaze from his shoulders to his eyes, but his eyes never roamed from her face.
Goodness. She knew she needed to keep up appearances, especially if she were to be helpful in the plan for the evening, but Lord Chilcott was making his intentions abundantly clear to her, and she did not like the direction they were taking.
“I have made you nervous,” Lord Chilcott chuckled after minutes of silence between them.
“Perhaps,” Lavender admitted.
“I know you like to be a wallflower, but all these people watching us will become accustomed to the sight of us. Before long, there will be someone more interesting to watch.”
Lavender’s eyes started roaming around the spacious room.
Lord Chilcott was correct—they were drawing far too much attention for her liking.
How was she ever to extricate herself from this courtship that she’d never entirely agreed to?
Her pulse began hammering. She’d been nervous before she knew they were the center of attention and the talk of the evening.
It would be no difficulty to fake a headache once their dance was over.
“Perhaps we ought to speak of something else,” she suggested.
Lord Chilcott pulled her even closer to himself. “What are you reading right now?”
“I’ve been studying the book of Revelations.”
“From The Bible?” Lord Chilcott asked with obvious shock.
“Yes, from The Bible,” Lavender smiled a little. “Haven’t you heard of it?”
He shook his head. “I try to leave church at church.”
“Sermons are helpful. But I like to make up my own mind on matters of importance.”
Lord Chilcott dipped his head. “You cannot keep saying things that make me respect you more, Lady Lavender. It is unholy to worship someone more than God.”
“I believe you are admitting to being a heathen.”
His answering smirk only added evidence to her claim. The music came to a stop, and he finally released her. “I certainly do not claim to be as wholesome as you.” He led her from the floor. “I don’t want to deliver you back to the duke. If that is me being a heathen, then so be it.”
Lavender swatted his shoulder. “Behave, my lord.” Their interaction felt far too much like flirting for Lavender’s peace of mind.
Lord Chilcott was the enemy, the one responsible for making others’ lives miserable.
The lost duke being among them. “Thank you for the dance.” She met with Miriam and Samuel who had been dancing together at the edge of the room.
Miriam took Lavender’s arm. “Excuse us for a few minutes.”
Samuel kissed Miriam on the cheek. “If I have to.”
She smiled. “You do.” She led Lavender from the men’s company. When they reached the corridor, she turned to Lavender. “Are you certain you want to do this?”
Lavender nodded. “Of course I do.”
“It’s only that . . .” Miriam pinched her lips between her teeth. “. . . well, Lord Chilcott is not all bad.”
Lavender shook her head. “Only time will tell. Miriam, I know what it looked like back there. But I have no romantic feelings for Lord Chilcott.”
Miriam nodded and grasped Lavender’s hands. “Well then, I will be just around the corner. Yell my name if you need me.”
“I will.” Lavender let go of the duchess’s hands and tucked herself behind the pillar closest to the exit. From her vantage point, she could see anyone who left the ballroom from behind, and she was hidden from view. She leaned her head on the cool stone of the pillar and took a deep breath.
She counted six persons who left the ball, none of whom seemed the least likely to be an accomplice of Lord Chilcott, and only five whom she knew by name.
The other lady who left, Lavender hadn’t seen before, but she noted her light-brown hair and the pattern of her dress should she need to give details.
“I am surprised, my lord, that you wanted to meet at a ball. It is not my usual way of working,” a female voice said from the other side of Lavender’s large pillar. She recognized the voice, but she couldn’t quite place it.
“That is the point, I would think.” It was Lord Chilcott who answered. “Do tell me you have a secret compartment about your person where I can give you this stack of letters.”
A tinkling laugh came from the woman. “My reticule will be sufficient, I am sure.”
Lavender could hear some shifting about for a few moments, and then Lord Chilcott spoke again. “When can you be finished?”
“These things cannot be rushed. But I am usually capable within a week.”
“I will call on you next Thursday then.”
The woman tsked. “So long as you don’t bring the Gardner girl with you, you may come to my home. It will be a beautiful thing to see her heart get crushed. I’m counting on you to make your stance quite public before you receive my work.”
“Of course,” Lord Chilcott answered.
“Well, I’m off.” Lavender heard the sound of a kiss. “Until next Thursday.”
Lavender was blinking fast, trying to make sense of the conversation, and attempting not to cry at the same time.
The woman walked from the interaction with her head held high, her honey hair reflecting the light from the candles along the walls.
Lavender didn’t dare breathe. She knew that woman.
It was Meredith Dalrymple, the person who had once been her friend, however briefly.
A mountain of questions piled up on Lavender’s mind.
She’d known that Meredith was attempting to sort out where the lost duke was, but why was Meredith upset with her?
How had she gotten involved in the situation in the first place?
And how was Lord Chilcott going to publicize Lavender’s supposed heartache?
It was all well and good for Lavender to try to clear the Duke of Fenleigh’s name, but she didn’t even know Fenleigh.
Was it really worth possibly putting herself through public humiliation for the slight chance that the man would give her a moment’s hesitation?
The only reason she’d even considered him as a marriage prospect was because Tom had mentioned it.
And if she were publicly humiliated, what would that do to her father?
She was supposed to be here to bring him peace, not to see him tortured.
But what was she to do? At this point, her name and Lord Chilcott’s were too intertwined for her to extricate herself and find someone else to propose marriage.
There was no feigning a headache now. Lavender rested her forehead against the cool stone once again and tried to make sense of the tangled web of lies she’d found herself in the middle of.
It was in this position that Miriam found her a quarter of an hour later. “Goodness, Lavender, is everything alright?”
“No. It is not. Might we go home?”
“Of course. I will fetch Samuel. Would you like to come with me?”
Lavender couldn’t face Lord Chilcott so soon after what she’d heard. “I think I will just stay here.” She was well and truly done with the man.
Miriam pursed her lips together and then rushed away to find the duke.