Chapter Eleven #2
‘Society ladies are different in that they are too quick to judge.’ She thought of Candace.
Her sister’s heartbreak at the hands of Society still stung.
Poor Candace had suffered what felt like a thousand whispered speculations that had left her bereft.
It had taken months to ease her melancholy.
‘They devoured my sister after her fiancé jilted her. They treated her as if she had failed him.’
Ralston’s gaze sobered. ‘As a politician, I’ve learned something invaluable.’
Her interest was piqued. ‘Do share it.’
He paused, then said, ‘Most people are too self-absorbed and occupied with themselves to notice you.’
She considered this. ‘An intriguing theory. I shall try to remember it. Although it will be difficult if all eyes are on me.’ She disliked that kind of attention.
He offered his arm. ‘Then let me bear some of the weight. Trust me.’
Trust him?
She hesitated for a moment. Was she ready to take that step? She hadn’t known him long and she wasn’t one to trust easily. Then she placed her gloved hand upon his sleeve. ‘Very well.’
Together, they left the estate for the neighbouring home and soon stepped through the iron gate into Lady Leticia’s garden. The air was sweet with the scent of roses and summer blossoms, and laughter mingled with the faint strains of a string quartet from the terrace.
‘Lord Ralston!’ A middle-aged woman in a towering powdered wig and bright yellow gown waved them over. As they approached, Nora’s eyes widened at the woman’s appearance. Her gown had a gold gauze overskirt. A ruby the size of a pigeon’s egg sparkled from the hollow of her throat.
‘Lady Leticia,’ Ralston said with a graceful bow. ‘May I present my wife, Lady Ralston?’
Lady Leticia’s painted lips curved. ‘You always were dangerously charming.’
Nora dipped into a polite curtsy. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you. Is that a Chinese pagoda I see in the distance?’ A four towered structure of overhanging eaves made of wood stood out.
Lady Leticia beamed. ‘Indeed! An original. I had it shipped from the Orient.’
‘It’s exquisite,’ Nora replied honestly, ‘as are your gardens.’
The lady fluttered her fan, clearly pleased. ‘Now tell me, my dear Lord Ralston, wherever did you discover such an enchanting creature?’
Ralston winked and flashed a wolfish grin. ‘We fell in love at first sight.’
Lady Leticia gasped with delight, pressing her bejeweled hand to her corseted chest. ‘Oh, I do adore a love match!’
As they left their host and strolled on, Nora whispered, ‘She’s smitten with you.’
‘She’s one of my favorites,’ he replied with fondness. ‘She may dress flamboyantly, but she is delightful, and she hosts the best gatherings. The ton never dares miss her invitations and all the Society ladies attend.’
Her pulse quickened as she glanced at a group of well-dressed women gathered beneath the shade of an oak tree. She had never been part of high society. But then again, she had never been a countess.
‘Shall I introduce you?’ Ralston asked. ‘It will be brief.’
‘Anything I should know?’ Information could only help.
‘Lady Weber and Lady Modal are close friends of Lady Jersey, one of the patronesses at Almack’s. They wield a great deal of influence. The other ladies follow their lead.’
Nora made a mental note of all he’d said. She nodded and steeled herself. With her hand on his arm, they approached.
‘Good day, ladies,’ Ralston said.
The women all turned, wide-eyed at the appearance of the Earl. One fanned herself. Another fluttered her lashes. All three smiled at Ralston. When they turned to look at Nora, she could almost feel the collective scrutiny settle upon her shoulders.
‘Lady Weber, Lady Modal, Lady Smithson,’ he said smoothly. ‘May I introduce my wife, Lady Ralston?’
‘We’ve been most eager to meet you,’ Lady Weber said, her dark eyes inquisitive. She was a pretty brunette.
‘She is a scientist,’ Ralston added, without preamble.
Nora turned to him, surprised. She wasn’t ashamed of her profession, but she would not have said it so boldly and swiftly. What was he thinking? She braced herself for disapproval.
But Ralston, ever composed, continued. ‘She captivated me when I first saw her collecting seashells on a beach in Cornwall.’
Nora blinked. That wasn’t their agreed story. Hadn’t they agreed to dancing at the Duchess’s ball and then spending time together properly chaperoned? He was diverting from their agreed script.
But he looked so earnest, so sure. And undeniably handsome in his navy coat and dark hair. The ladies responded just as he must have predicted with sighs, wide eyes and murmurs of delight. There were more fluttering fans.
‘You must visit and see her collection,’ Ralston continued.
‘Who doesn’t love the sea and colourful shells?
It was love at first sight on that beach.
’ He turned to look at Nora with such devotion, his lips curving in a bemused smile, that her heart tripped a beat.
A traitorous part of her wanted to believe him.
To have a man accept her for herself, her intelligence, even her peccadillos, and to still adore her.
Goodness, what would it be like?
Lady Modal, a fragile blonde, sighed. ‘Oh, I do enjoy a love story.’
Lady Smithson, a tall brunette with crooked teeth, squealed. ‘And I adore anything from the sea.’
Lady Weber, elegant and poised, nodded. ‘Lady Ralston, I would very much like to see your collection.’
A fourth lady, who must have overheard and appeared, agreed. ‘Me, too!’
Nora was surprised at their enthusiasm. She suspected it had much more to do with Ralston’s support than her collection of shells. ‘I’d be happy to show you all. Perhaps I’ll host a science salon.’
Nora blinked. Had she said that aloud? She glanced up at Ralston, but he didn’t seem concerned.
‘A science salon,’ Lady Modal repeated, dropping her voice. ‘I for one would welcome something new. This is our fourth garden party this month.’
At the chorus of agreement, Ralston interjected, his voice smooth. ‘Forgive me, ladies, but I must fetch my wife a glass of lemonade. I shall return her to you shortly.’
As they walked to the refreshment table, Nora looked up at him.
‘Love at first sight?’ she murmured.
He smiled sidelong. ‘Why not? Let them believe it.’
And they would. She saw how easily he persuaded and charmed people. For the first time, she could see him as a persuasive politician arguing his case on the House floor. A politician through and through—and yet, for a moment, she wanted to believe him. That perhaps some part of him had meant it.
Later, as the party continued and he mingled with the gentlemen, she returned to the women and was surprised to find herself welcomed with genuine curiosity.
She listened to the ladies all the while sneaking glances at Ralston from beneath lowered lashes.
He had an easy familiarity with the men.
When he spoke, they maintained eye contact and listened.
She grudgingly acknowledged he hadn’t abandoned her to the women but had ensured she was accepted and felt a level of comfort before leaving her to join his friends.
Then she noticed a fair-haired man approach Ralston with a somber expression. Ralston’s brow furrowed. His stance stiffened. She suspected he was neither a friend nor that it was a pleasant conversation. She waited until the man departed before approaching him.
‘Who was that?’ she asked when they were alone again.
Ralston’s jaw hardened. ‘Lord Weber,’ he said tersely. ‘A political adversary. He opposes my current bill.’
Nora was grateful he felt comfortable enough to share this information and to know Weber could affect his career.
Looking up at his handsome features, she appreciated his sharing, but it caused other concerns, as well.
Nora’s stomach dipped. It explained the icy demeanor between the men.
It also caused a dilemma of her own. ‘Oh. I hope I do not cause additional stress between you two.’
His brow furrowed. ‘Why would it?’
‘Because I invited Lady Weber to my salon.’
A pause. Then he chuckled softly, brushing a knuckle over her gloved hand. ‘Then I suppose she’ll learn a thing or two. Perhaps about seashells. And perhaps about you.’
Nora adjusted the brass screws delicately, her fingers steady as she brought the mollusk into sharp focus beneath the microscope’s polished lens.
Her mind grasped what she observed. The slide revealed a world invisible to the naked eye.
She marveled at an intricate lattice of shell and membrane, spiraling in perfect, fragile symmetry.
The microscope magnified the specimen four hundred times its size.
Her breath caught slightly as she studied it.
For such a tiny specimen, it was fascinatingly complex.
A voice, low and unexpectedly near, broke through her concentration.
‘What do you see?’
Startled, she straightened, one hand still resting on the table. She hadn’t heard the door open. Turning, she found Ralston leaning against the door-frame. Her pulse quickened. For such a large man, he moved silently. How long had he been watching her?
‘You startled me,’ she said, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly as she stepped away from the microscope. ‘It’s a mollusk. Would you like to see?’
‘Yes. I admit I’m curious.’ He stepped forward to stand beside her. His scent, a pleasant sandalwood and linen, was warm and clean and entirely male. His sleeve brushed hers, and she found herself stealing glimpses of his profile.
She moved aside and gestured to the scope, her fingers briefly grazing his as she showed him the adjustment screw. The contact, however brief, made her breath catch. She shouldn’t like it as much as she did.
She cleared her throat. ‘This one came from a shell I found on the Cornwall coast,’ she explained. ‘Look closely. You can see the internal structure.’
He bent to the eyepiece. She watched him as he concentrated. His brows narrowed slightly and his mouth curled in subtle surprise.