Barbara let her gaze wander around the room, trying not to look for the one man she hoped never to see again.
The drawing room had been made over into a small theater, rows of chairs facing a dais where select members would read poetry and perhaps the hostess would convince her daughter to play a tune on the pianoforte.
Just a few days earlier, Barbara would have looked forward to such an event, hoping to learn of a poet she had yet to encounter, yes, but also on the off chance she could let Aubrey’s deep tones pull her into the world of imagination.
Now, though she would not admit this to anyone—not even Sarah—she grew tired of the round of parties, balls, poetry readings, and the like. Everyone seemed too lively, and her the worst of all as she played for an audience that had yet to make an appearance.
“It’s so easy for you,” the girl seated to her right said, placing a hand on Barbara’s arm. “With such rich curls and smooth skin, why you have every gentleman in London at your feet without even trying.”
Barbara gave the girl a faint smile, knowing any attempt to explain how her beauty offered more obstacle than support would fail. She wracked her memory for the girl’s name along with a topic her mother would consider appropriate.
As much as she hated to admit it, she’d had the same disparaging thoughts about the other debutantes as Aubrey proclaimed, but having felt the pain of them, she was determined never to fall into such a trap again. She would not put herself above these poor girls who most likely had no chance to learn better. Not every father allowed his female children into the library, and often even then, they’d be steered to books of less consequence as their mothers were sure to command what would be acceptable for their young minds.
She forgot herself enough to let out a sigh, recognizing the offense too late to repair it.
Hannah—Barbara finally remembered—visibly withdrew into herself, her pasty complexion blooming with a red that would have been attractive had it not grown in unsightly patches.
“I didn’t mean to presume,” Hannah muttered, turning away and twisting her hands together.
“Oh, please, it’s I who must apologize. I fear I’ve had too little sleep of late to be much company. My mother is determined to make the most of the season, and I find it wearying.”
Hannah turned back with a shy smile. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that or people will start to question your stamina, though how they could with the way you take command of the dance floor, I know not. Some of the girls thought a duel would break out over the last spot on your card the other night.”
Barbara ducked her head even as she remembered the contest of words that almost had her hand the card over for them to share so she could just go home.
She laughed; she danced; she made pretty conversation.
Her mother had been nothing but encouraging and delighted to see Barbara making an effort at last. Talk around the table tossed out titles as though they were nothing less than diamonds. Word had it a duke had expressed interest even. That information made her ever more grateful for the promise she’d extracted. He was sixty if a day, and gout kept him from the dance floor or any other activity beyond gossiping about his fellows, but apparently she’d caught his eye from the sidelines.
There’d been a time when the attention might have lightened her spirits, though better if she felt any of them saw beyond the pretty wrapping to the person below. But the marriage mart offered little chance for a true meeting of minds. The lucky girls were able to present their accomplishments in gatherings such as these, but accomplishments had little to do with thought. Stitching, music, dance. These were the signs of a proper upbringing, not reading or considerations of politics and law.
She barely managed to suppress another offending sigh when Hannah grabbed her arm with a grip strong enough to bruise.
“Look. There he is. I do so hope he’ll be reading tonight. His voice makes a shiver run down my spine.”
Barbara knew in her gut just whom she’d see when she turned, but no matter how much she told herself not to look, her gaze fell on none other than Aubrey St. Vincent, resplendent in his coat and trousers. Her heart gave a jump before she remembered just how little the man thought of her, or rather that he thought her to be so little.
She shifted in her seat so he would not be within her vision and sought another topic of conversation, but Hannah would not be persuaded to turn aside.
“There goes young Emily. She’s much too precocious by half. She pretends to like his sister, Isabella, but she hardly gave the girl a nod when her mother was escorting her about. We’re not fooled, are we, Barbara? She’s set her cap for Lord Aubrey St. Vincent and will do whatever she can to catch his attention. It’s deplorable.”
Barbara needed neither to agree nor disagree. The words were clearly quoted from someone, most likely Hannah’s mother, or perhaps her older sister with the lack of the title. The young girl’s expression held more of longing than contempt.
“He’s not worth your consideration.”
That got Hannah’s attention if only for a quick glance. “How can you say that? To claim he’s kind on the eyes is understating the truth, his voice is a dream, and I’ve heard tell he even spoke on letting women into Oxford. Imagine that. Not something I would ever aspire to, but it certainly offers proof of his preferential gaze on the female sort, don’t you think? Not to mention he’s heir to the Earl.”
Not wanting to explain how she’d come by her reluctance, Barbara gave a slight shrug. “It would appear so. It’s not always the case that appearances are truth is all I meant. And you want to be cautious.”
Hannah turned to her then with a frown. “Not all of us have so many vying for our least attention that we can afford to be cautious as you say. Besides, it does no harm at all to dream. I have as little chance as Lady Emily even were I to mirror her actions and throw myself at his feet.”
The fierce words gave Barbara pause, showing as they did a much deeper consideration than any conversation they’d exchanged so far. “Don’t be so quick to measure yourself wanting, Hannah. There is someone out there for you who will look askance at all others only to settle his gaze upon you and never turn away.”
As though the serious moment had never occurred, Hannah colored once again. “You truly think so?”
Ignoring her own predicament, Barbara gave a firm nod. “I truly think so.”
And thinking so had gotten her into this trouble in the first place. She’d been so sure Aubrey held that place only to discover him a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He’d seemed so serious and constrained, but he had only been so for lack of a companion. Married or not, Lord Pendleton seemed just as happy to spend his time wasting coin at the card tables and drinking himself into a stupor with Aubrey at his side. He’d said so himself.
“What is it? You look so cross.”
Barbara hadn’t realized how easily her gaze sought out the source of her thoughts. Not Lord Pendleton rather, but Aubrey St. Vincent. The man had taught her how little she could trust the male half of the species to be what it seemed. She should be grateful for the education, but her aching heart left little room for gratitude.
“It’s nothing. Something I remembered from earlier.” She dismissed the moment with a wave of her hand, but could not wipe it from her mind as easily as she had from Hannah’s.
The others gathered round and settled into chairs, a hush falling over the room as the first reader stepped to the front.
Despite herself, Barbara couldn’t help comparing his stance to that of Aubrey, how his shoulders seemed less broad, his leg less toned, but worst of all was the nasal quality to his voice that made the most eloquent of lines seem overdone. The man who followed him had a deep enough voice, but the wind whistled through his teeth with every fourth word, turning the poem into a hissing contest between snakes until she wanted to beg him to choose something less ridden with any letter sending his tongue to curl against his side teeth.
Her head started to ache before the third reader, and though she knew herself to be less than fair to any of them, she could not stop how her thoughts measured each against the one performance she had grown to look forward to. The situation only worsened when Aubrey himself took the raised step with a bound and gave the gathered members of the ton a smile sure to melt the hearts of any woman old enough to care and not yet in her grave.
Barbara squinted to make him seem less appealing and scowled at him from her seat, fully aware he would not have acknowledged her even had she been sitting in the very front. Admiring or embittered, she was beneath his notice and so might as well have not existed at all.
“Our hostess has graciously asked me to stand in a round. How could I object when she has provided this lovely event for us?”
His deep tones threatened to melt her heart as well until she remembered his own words belittling and dismissing these events. How he’d longed for his mother to regain her strength and take these chores off his hands. He presented a pretty demeanor to match his handsome visage, but both were no more than varnish over chipped and cracked porcelain.
She slumped down in her seat as far as the rigid piece in her corset would allow and prayed for the sky to fall so she could leave this company and suffer his presence no more.
God had bigger things on his mind, though, and despite her head pounding so hard she wondered if she’d fallen ill, the evening dragged on even once Aubrey stepped down, though not for long. Lady Emily was the next to beg his favor, asking him to turn her music as she entertained them all from the pianoforte.
Once again, courtesy demanded Barbara give her full attention to a vision including the one man she wished would drop off the Dover cliffs and so she suffered it. Even had she wanted to beg off, she had no intention of explaining the situation to her mother. Enduring soothing words and avoiding attempts to procure a proper introduction so she could prove her worth when his had been the one found wanting would do little to ease her head or the aching of her heart.
“AH, THERE YOU ARE,” JASPER declared as Aubrey’s butler ushered him into the study. “I half expected you to be at an afternoon tea or perhaps squiring your sister around the gardens.”
Aubrey pushed back from his desk and rubbed a hand down his face as he looked on his friend. “And here I thought you came into town because you had business to conduct. Feeling neglected?”
Jasper sank into the plump chair to one side of the desk. “I’ll admit I’d hoped to claim more of your time myself, but you’re right. I did come on business. I’m engaging an engineer to repair the mill. Well, that and to help a local gentleman farmer spread word about his new breeding stock.”
“Sheep?”
“Horses. He’s been dabbling in horse breeding for years now, with a few moderate successes, but the latest two-year-olds are remarkable. Enough to make a name for himself if word gets around.”
Aubrey slapped his hands to his knees and laughed. “Who would have imagined the two of us would turn respectable. You worrying about breeding stock, and I’ve taken over much of the estate management so my father can focus on politics. We’ve come a bit away from betting on carriage races through the streets of London, not that either of us had so little on our minds even then.”
Jasper straightened from his slouch to say, “Love of a good woman will ground a man, though I’m not sure I can credit my Daphne with anything but a need to move to the country until the rumors died down. I wasn’t expecting to find it so appealing, to be honest, but there’s something bracing about the fresh air, and I have good relations with my neighbors. Much less parading about, that’s for sure.”
“How is Daphne finding it?”
Jasper barked a laugh. “She was made for the country. Her father had only brought the two girls to town a year or two before I crossed paths with Daphne. My lady love has a bit of the wild in her. Much better suited for the country for all she’d find more young ladies for her dance school here than there.”
Aubrey rose to pour the two of them a light sherry. “So she is teaching?” he asked as he handed over one glass and returned to his seat.
“She’s canvasing the local area for suitable young ladies and training the staff while she’s waiting for the right moment to make the offer. You have a fondness for elevated events. You should see our dinners. Often as not, the serving platters are delivered with a flourish or a spin.”
“I can just imagine, but I suppose she must keep herself busy somehow. If you think your life has changed, take a moment to consider hers. At least you perform many of the same tasks. London is still talking about her, wondering where the masked dancer went and when she’ll be back.”
Jasper stiffened at the mention. “Never.”
Aubrey waved a hand as though to dispel the sudden tension. “Of course. I didn’t mean to say she would. I doubt she’d return to that life now even if you chose to step out of her way. She did it when she thought she had nothing to lose. Your reputation and hers are in the balance. The woman loves you more deeply than any other I’ve seen.” He stifled a sigh, thoughts drawn to his own fruitless search for such a match.
“You were always the confident one, Aubrey. Don’t let your faith be shaken now. If I can find a match, surely you can, especially with all the events you’re attending.”
Aubrey let the sherry swirl around on his tongue for a moment before answering. “I haven’t the chance to find a true match what with pushy females and their mothers trying to catch my eye. I don’t so much mind the events as you know, though last night I was called upon to attend one young woman who has been nothing but persistent in her pursuit. You know as well as I do they have tallies to measure a man’s worth, tallies that mark only titles, the heft of the purse, and pleasant features, with the last holding the least weight.”
Jasper leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “And you want to be considered for your good looks alone? Why I haven’t been gone a year and you’ve turned vain.”
With a shake of his head that didn’t quite mask the slight smile his friend’s words provoked, Aubrey dismissed the charge. “I’d rather be measured for who I am than for any of the items in their considerations. The readings are fine, and you know I favor theater, but the balls are nothing but disappointments. The purpose there is to see and be seen, as though a glimpse is all it would take to see through to a person’s soul.”
“You could always take them riding in your carriage. There’d be time to delve into their thoughts then.”
Aubrey could not prevent the shudder that overtook him. “Thank you but no. That long in the company of some gentle lady whose thoughts are filled with fashion and the latest gossip. Better you had me scheduled for a stay in Bedlam. Or is it that you plan to drive me there yourself.”
Jasper rose to clap Aubrey on the shoulder. “Buck up, my friend. It can’t be as bad as all that. And if it is, the offer to come for an extended stay is always open. My manor is large enough to keep you in peace and quiet, though I can’t guarantee none of the local gentry will bring their daughters round for a meeting.”
“I may just have to take you up on that kind offer once my mother’s feeling better. You can show me this piece of horseflesh you seem to find so dashing as an excuse should my mother protest.”
“Surely she wouldn’t, not after how you’ve stepped in to keep your sister’s season as active as it could possibly be. Your mother must be feeling up to the task now if you’re here and not running about after Isabella.”
Aubrey brushed the papers scattered across the polished surface before him. “I had some work to catch up on what with maintaining Isabella’s heavy social schedule, but you’re not far off. The household, my mother included, is resting up for a night out at the theater. You’re welcome to join us. I can’t promise an act to approach that of your lady wife, but there’s a play I’ve yet to see that’s been receiving good word. And at least there I’ll be safe from the attempts to secure my fortune, my title, and even my person.”
“But not your heart. I do understand now, Aubrey. I needed to find my match to see you as anything less than a hopeless romantic. There’s nothing for it but to keep looking. The journey might be arduous, but the reward is worth every step.”
Aubrey stared at his friend for a long while, assessing the happiness mixed in with Jasper’s ever-present confidence, or rather the confidence he’d seen slip only rarely. “I never thought to hear you say such a thing.”
“Nor I, but I’d like to think I always had it in me to learn, and now I have the best of teachers.”
“Daphne?”
“Her, and my own heart. It’s a wondrous organ I’d much neglected in my early years.”
Aubrey shrugged. “It’s not like you had much of an example to base upon. My parents want nothing less than a joyful match for each of their children, one to rival their own. I just wish they wouldn’t try quite so hard to bring it about.”
Jasper laughed as he ran a finger along Aubrey’s book collection before pulling forth a volume of poems that caught his eye. “So what you’re saying is your mother’s illness, though requiring so much of you, came at an opportune time?”
The thought had not occurred before, busy as he’d been rushing around after his youngest sister, but now Aubrey froze as it struck him. “You see the truth for what it is, my friend, whether it’s measuring a horse race or my own predicament. At least she returns to society through a dramatic event. I’ll have one day’s rest before the parade of possibles begins once again.”
Jasper thrust the volume back in place and turned with a sour look. “You weigh your mother’s determination too light. Even with theater, there’s the intermission to consider, and I wouldn’t put it past her to have seeded the box with a prospect or two.”
Aubrey groaned, wishing he could deny what Jasper had brought to mind and knowing he could not. “I beg of you. Come with me. I’ll sit in the farthest corner with you between me and any other. You’re a happily married man and so beneath their notice.”
“Only if you promise to come for a visit. Daphne and I miss the company, though it seems your need outweighs ours. Still, you might try conversing with them. You never know what there is to discover hidden under their masks of propriety.”
Aubrey shook his head with a smile. “I doubt London is big enough for two like your Daphne, and I fear she’s solidly taken. If you promise to discourage any attempt at inane converse so I can simply enjoy the play, I will agree to come for that visit as soon as my mother is able to resume her duties.”
“Is visiting such a hardship that you must bargain for terms?” Jasper shook his head to deny the need for an answer. “Your dedication to your sister is admirable.”
If any understood the pressures of family and responsibility, it would be Jasper, though his story came to a satisfactory conclusion while Aubrey had no such hope for his own.
“It’s exhausting, but your company will help make it less so.”
“Then for your sake, I’ll agree to this outing. I came to tell you I planned to head back to the manor come morning. A night at the theater seems a proper sending off.”
Aubrey laughed. “I doubt you’ll be leaving before afternoon with how late the night will run. You’ll suffer an adjustment back to country hours once you reach home.
“An early bedtime is quite welcome with Daphne to share the space.” Jasper grinned. “Someday you’ll understand that truth as well.”
Clapping his friend on the shoulder, Aubrey said, “It doesn’t seem to have had that effect on my parents. Late nights and later mornings is as much the rule among the married as those Londoners still in their wilder years.”
Jasper only shook his head, a country man now for all he’d been the toast of the town a bare year earlier.