Aubrey took a sip of punch from the cup in his hand and let the drink soothe his throat. A pity it couldn’t quiet the cacophony around him.
“You’ve done me quite the favor,” Jasper said with a lopsided grin as he waved toward his mother’s ballroom floor and the bevy of young ladies vying for attention. “I thought myself beyond all this now that I’m a happily married man.”
“And to think you once believed your mother and wife could split the confines of London with you and none would suffer for it.”
His friend gave a deep laugh that yet held a level of content Aubrey would never have expected to hear from him.
“How is the Lady Pendleton faring at your country estate, anyhow? I’ve seen so little of you since your wedding, I half thought to run out there myself and make sure she hadn’t confined you to the cellars.”
“Counting the minutes until I return to her side, or so I hope she is based on my own preoccupation. A better match I could not have found had I searched the length and breadth of England for a score of years.” He clapped Aubrey on the shoulder. “We used to mutter about the trap of marriage, but those were the words of ignorance, I promise you.”
Aubrey brushed Jasper’s hand from his shoulder. “Speak for yourself, old man. I was never one to mourn it.”
“True enough. And how goes your search for the perfect mate? Should you tire of the effort, you’re welcome to take a rest at my home. Daphne and I would be glad to see you.”
“Growing weary of each other’s company so soon? Why, there’s not a year gone by since you bound your lives together.” He glanced out at the gathering as he spoke, a longing fierce as a stab in the gut overtaking him. Since his friend confessed the truth of their love, with Daphne’s permission, he saw Jasper’s transformation into the happy groom in a different light, and one he envied. He’d been seeking the woman created just for him for more than a year now, but his best friend tripped over Daphne without any effort while Aubrey was left searching.
From the expression on Jasper’s face, his friend had made some comment requiring an answer but Aubrey had not the faintest idea what it might be.
“Just look at them,” he muttered, revealing the cause of his distraction. “There’s not a level head or a serious thought among them. I have no idea why your mother would seek them out when she has no daughter to cast among them. She always was one for parties, though.”
“And matchmaking. Don’t forget how she likes to keep her hand in even now. She was considering who might serve for you just this morning. My mother knows the bloodline, habits, and secrets of every single soul who graces that floor out there, and many more as well. You’d do worse than let her give you a hand. She says Whitfeld’s daughter has shown some potential.”
That drew Aubrey’s attention from the dancers and his own morose thoughts. “Your mother wouldn’t know a good match if it lit a fire beneath her skirts. You forget in your wedded bliss that had your mother had her way, you’d have been tied to a wife who thought of piety more than convention and spent her time among the poor. Had fate not intervened, you’d be crying for me to give you a good excuse to avoid services every day of the week when Sunday proved too little worship for her liking.” He nodded toward where the Dowager Lady Pendleton held court. “Your mother lines up lists in her head that hold only titles and wealth as well you know.”
Jasper lifted both hands, almost spilling his drink in the process. “Enough, enough. I surrender the point. She might not understand the workings of a young man’s heart, but at least she knows more than you can have gathered standing here in the shadows. She talks to the girls, and to their mothers. Can you say the same?”
“You never had to ride the horse to know its value,” Aubrey said with more force than he’d intended. “I’ve been chaperoning Isabella for weeks now as my mother recovers from being ill, though I’m starting to think she malingers just to avoid the clash of so many trying to speak inanities in rooms with more echoes than a mountain range. If not for the music, I’d swear I’d woken to find myself trapped in a flock of geese. If there’s an intelligent mind out there, it’s growing duller by the moment, beaten into submission by talk of weather and fashion.”
Jasper sent Aubrey a raised eyebrow at that, and Aubrey softened enough to laugh, his outfit a match to any on the dance floor.
“True enough,” he said in answer to the unspoken criticism. “But just because I keep to the fashion doesn’t mean I need to discuss it every waking moment.”
Aubrey heaved a great sigh. “It’s been a sorry London without you in it, my friend. I’d had hopes at first you’d leave your wife and return to keep me company, but you thoroughly dashed them when you told me the truth. I’m left adrift with no one to spar against unless you count greybeards. Any younger who are mature enough to consider more than how many folds it takes to form the latest cravat are busy with wives and children.”
With a shake of his head, Jasper murmured, “You poor, bedeviled man. Surrounded by young, fertile, beautiful women all eager to accept a dance, and you find no conversation to be had.”
The mischief in his eyes undercut his attempt at sympathy. Instead, he punched Aubrey on the shoulder. “You should be out there dancing, not lingering here with the married men and older women. You’ll not find the lady to match you without taking a step toward them. One might think you afraid the way you cling to the shadows. They’re just girls. Nothing to fear.”
Aubrey rubbed his arm and gave Jasper a frown with more weight than his friend’s expression had held. “If I fear for anything, it’s for my sanity. You think I came to this position by chance? Point me out this Whitfeld girl your mother thinks would make a good match. I dare you to mark her in this crowd. If she has anything to distinguish her, let that guide you. But once you realize they’re all cut from the same cloth with no distinguishing feature beyond who is bold and frivolous, or shy and frivolous, can you please let it rest. I hear enough of this from my mother and sisters to hold me in good stead. With you, I expect more, though maybe Daphne has drawn the wit from your tongue as much as the cynic from your heart. My coin rests on this girl being the worst of the lot if your mother’s past ventures are any measure of her understanding.”
This time the serious expression on his friend’s visage held nothing of mockery as he laid a heavy hand on Aubrey’s shoulder. “You’re right. I have no cause to challenge you in your search. You know how little my own efforts had to do with my success better than most. I’m only in London for a short while, and here I’ve dragged you to a debutante party just so I didn’t have to suffer it on my own. What say we head down to White’s instead? There we’ll find your greybeards and likely a conversation or two with more meaning than the words exchanged between movements.”
“You forget I’d have been here whether you needed the company or not. I can’t very well abandon my sister, and this late in the day, the conversations will be dulled by the spirits already consumed.”
“Better that than here among the geese as you so carefully described them. Come with me. My mother will be delighted to take over as chaperone, and can send your sister home in state when the last dance has come to a close. I’ll even divert any attempt to introduce you to the Whitfeld girl as my penance. As of this moment, I swear to provide you an environment free of debutantes, especially those who want to bend your ear about fashion and weather.”
Remembering just how easily Jasper could talk him into trouble, still Aubrey found himself agreeing. Surely The Dowager Lady Pendleton would make a suitable substitute, and if she could steer Isabella toward some compatible gentlemen, maybe the endless round of events would cease. With his other two sisters already married, she remained the last to secure her future.
The thought held less joy than might have been expected from his sour words earlier, but his mood had little to do with the goal of these events and much to do with his own failure to find a young lady he’d be willing to spend an afternoon with, much less his whole life. Should Isabella choose a suitor, his mother’s full attention would turn to his unhappy bachelor state.
BARBARA STRUGGLED TO RESTRAIN HERSELF as she fought the need to leap up and tell Aubrey just what she thought of him now.
Sarah had spoken truly when she called out Barbara’s description of him as fantasy.
She’d grown tired of the constant rounds and dances, and settled here only moments before when she noticed Aubrey in deep discussion. Never had she imagined they’d be discussing her very own self.
All this time, Barbara had been so worried she’d come across as tongue-tied when introduced and spoil that delicate first impression. She shouldn’t have worried at all. He didn’t even need to meet her to judge her unworthy.
Fuming, she glared as two men made their way across the room to speak with their hostess, and the woman who’d birthed this stranger from what Barbara had overheard. She remembered her mother mentioning some manner of upset regarding the man and his marriage bed, but he seemed well enough set up now, unlike her Aubrey.
No, Barbara thought, not her Aubrey. She had no intention of tying herself to such an arrogant bore. All his talk of the female spirit, and this was how he truly viewed them. His every virtue proved to be little more than a show, and he called her frivolous.
The glare she sent to his back should have melted the fine-cut jacket if there were any justice in the world. But for that to happen, he had to care for her opinions. He clearly did not. He saw her as nothing more than a goose among a flock of same, with—what had he said?—nothing to distinguish her.
Rage welled up enough to make the room uncomfortably warm, and she sprang to her feet, unable to sit a moment longer. She scanned the room until she caught the eye of a young viscount she’d been introduced to earlier.
He flushed at her bold gaze, but it did not deter him from coming over to claim her hand.
Barbara barely noticed him though, as she saw Aubrey headed for the door. She laughed aloud, though whether the viscount said a word that could have been entertaining, she hadn’t a clue. No, she only wanted Aubrey to see her, to distinguish her from the rest as the most frivolous of all. So he’d judged her, so she would prove to be.
Though the target of her anger left with barely a glance in the direction of the dancers, anger fueled Barbara through the rest of the night. She smiled, laughed, and danced until her feet ached almost more than her tattered heart.
How could she have missed the truth in her careful study of the man? How could she not have seen how arrogance overcame wit, how rather than being helpful, he sought only to raise his own importance?
She had no more answers when her mother called for their carriage than she’d possessed upon her discovery, but the seeds of her anger had blossomed into what could only be hatred.
“Barbara, my dear, I’d never have thought it of you, but tonight you were the belle of the ball. Take care not to crowd out all the other girls, but it warms my heart to see you taking a true interest in your coming out. Here I thought you scornful of the whole event. Beyond the readings, you seemed more interested in talking politics with your father.” She gave a delicate shudder. “And yet you proved me wrong. Lady Pendleton knows how to provide a ball for the society papers, and you’re sure to have a mention or two. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Viscount Charleston doesn’t send round for permission, and he’s not the only one.”
Pressing a hand to her temples, Barbara stared into the inky darkness beyond the carriage window. She couldn’t remember which of the many gentlemen to share her dance card had been Charleston, but it didn’t matter much. None of them had distinguished themselves any more than Aubrey saw among the young ladies.
“Just remember you promised the choice would be mine to make,” Barbara said, cutting through another enthusiastic accounting.
“Yes, yes. Though why we agreed still baffles me. Your father ought to know well enough by now the risks of giving you your head. Still, with your beauty to counter how you overthink every blessed thing, perhaps it’s best to hold out for the most promising offer. It’s not as though you’ll be limited to the one, what with how engaging you were this night.”
She reached out to stroke a hand down one of the curls Sarah had left free when tending to Barbara’s hair, as though beauty held more value than any other feature. And perhaps in this lifetime, she had the right of it, for surely no one judged Barbara for her words.
Just yesterday evening, this conversation would have amused Barbara to no end, having already chosen the one offer she’d accept no matter who else came calling. Now she had little reason to hold her parents to their word, a promise extracted after she’d heard Aubrey speak out against the dismissal of all female persons.
He’d been mocked by his fellows as having been raised in a female-infested environment, but he’d held firm. She could only wonder at his purpose now that she knew his true nature. Had he known she sat listening? And if he had, it seemed brutally clear he’d seen only the curls her mother loved so much and not the person hidden beneath them.
Barbara straightened her spine and forced her gaze to where her mother sat at her side. “I suspect I’ve begun anew, Mother. No more will I seek after those who show false wit and modesty. Why confine myself when there are so many willing to court my pleasant features? The season has just begun for me, though it’s already half over.”
Her mother had the foresight to look a little perturbed at Barbara’s announcement, but then how could she protest when this had been what she’d wanted from the start? She had no need to know what motivated Barbara’s change, nor would she ever find out. Not a single person would know of the burning ache having taken up residence in Barbara’s chest, an ache born not of action but of lost chances and false appearances. The man she’d thought Aubrey to be had clearly never existed anywhere beyond her very own head.
She would neither settle for someone of lesser stature, nor sit on the sidelines as she waited for this paragon to appear. Sarah had been right all along. Had she studied less and procured an introduction sooner, she would have learned his true nature before he weaseled his way into her heart. She would not make that mistake again. Perhaps the gentlemen she’d danced with this night had little to distinguish themselves, but unlike Aubrey, she had no intention of judging them unfairly. She would make a point of speaking to every single one of them before she decided who would have the pleasure—nay, privilege—of joining his life to her own.