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ONLY A FEW DAYS REMAINED before Miss Darby's debut. Lady Penwyck and Mrs. Montgomery stayed busy meeting with one or another of the several firms engaged to oversee the decorations, the flowers, the food preparation, and the musicians who would provide music for dancing as well as entertainment whilst the guests partook of a lavish midnight supper. New ball gowns were also being made for all four of the women.
Because everyone was kept so very busy, Tessa was accorded only a few moments alone with Deirdre before the actual night of the ball.
"Lord Penwyck gave his word he would say nothing to anyone about finding you at Mr. Randall's office," Tessa hurriedly whispered to her friend as the two girls waited in an anteroom while Lady Penwyck and Deirdre's mother were being tended to by the modiste. It was the ladies' final fitting before the new ball gowns were to be delivered.
Deirdre smiled serenely. "Jeffrey and I appreciate all you have done for us, Tessa." She placed a gloved hand on her friend's arm. "Once we are wed, we want you to be the first guest to join us for dinner in our new home.
Tessa smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Deirdre. I am quite looking forward to meeting Jeffrey. Will he be coming to the ball?"
"Oh, no." Deirdre's soft brown curls shook. "Jeffrey is not . . . Mother would not . . . no, he will not be coming," she concluded firmly.
Grasping the reason why Mr. Randall's name had been omitted from the guest list, Tessa shifted uncomfortably. "Would you like for him to come?" she asked. "It is my party, after all. I will simply tell Alice I wish . . . "
"No, really. Everything is quite all right as it is. Jeffrey understands completely, truly he does."
Tessa paused. Something in Deirdre's tone struck her as a bit odd. However, not until the night of the ball did she fully understand what it was.
The Montgomerys' grand ballroom, located on the third floor of their palatial estate on the outskirts of London, had been transformed to resemble an outdoor vista complete with artificial trees, a small pond, and footpaths that meandered through a plush green carpet that represented grass. Earthen pots full of colorful spring flowers bloomed alongside the paths and clustered at the base of the silk-leaved trees. At the bottom of the room, a three-tiered waterfall spewed forth sparkling champagne that splashed merrily into a bubbly pool at its base. Hundreds of tiny lights twinkled in the treetops, and more glittered like stars in the painted midnight-blue sky overhead.
In the rotunda at the top of the room, the orchestra was housed in the largest of the three ship hulls representing Columbus's maiden voyage to America. Each was painted in bright hues of red, blue, and green. The remaining two facades, resting on opposite sides of the room, hid platforms containing high-back chairs upon which persons who did not wish to dance might sit and comfortably watch the proceedings.
"It is lovely!" Tessa breathed, gazing about with wonder when she and her party entered the room following an early supper provided for them by Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery.
"Yes, it is lovely, isn't it?" Lady Penwyck murmured. "I do so wish your Mother could be here."
"Mama would be very pleased," Tessa agreed, gazing up at the stars and then around the perimeter of the room, her vivid blue eyes taking in the spectacular sight. "Thank you for all you have done for me. Lady Penwyck."
Because Lady Penwyck, elegantly attired in a gray satin gown, a multitude of diamonds twinkling at her neck and ears, had already turned to address someone else, she did not hear Tessa's heartfelt reply, but her son did.
"I have never seen Mother quite so happy or so content as she has been since you arrived, Miss Darby," Lord Penwyck remarked quietly.
Both the kindness of the gentleman's words and the sincerity of his tone stunned Tessa. She had seen precious little of the earl the past few days and had to admit to rather missing him. He had surprised her the other evening by not chastising her roundly for her improper call upon Mr. Cobbett. Instead, she had vastly enjoyed the discussion they had fallen into. While she was still certain he did not approve of her broaching the seditious subject of Parliamentary reform, he had not rebuked her for doing so, all of which caused Tessa to wonder at his abrupt change of heart.
He looked quite handsome tonight in black evening clothes, a brilliant white cravat at his throat and spotless white gloves on his hands. The delicious sandalwood scent that wafted about him made Tessa want to edge closer and draw in a deeper breath.
The two stood eyeing one another a bit warily.
"You look . . . " Lord Penwyck began, at the same moment Tessa opened her mouth to speak.
"You look quite handsome tonight, sir," she said softly when he deferred to her.
He inclined his dark head a notch. "Thank you, Miss Darby. I was about to voice the same sentiment in regard to your appearance. Although I would have chosen the word pretty as opposed to handsome."
Tessa smiled sweetly. With one gloved hand, she brushed an imaginary wrinkle from the silken skirt of her lovely new gown. She'd picked the exquisite cream-coloured fabric over all the others presented to her at one of the many shops she and Lady Penwyck had visited. The low-cut bodice of the gown and the small cap sleeves featured an intricate floral pattern embellished with pearls and delicate golden threads. The slim skirt fell to the floor in a single column of silk, interrupted only by a handful of pleats in the back, which allowed for ease whilst walking or dancing. It was the most beautiful gown Tessa had ever seen. She felt quite feminine . . . even elegant . . . wearing it. That Lord Penwyck had complimented her appearance tonight pleased her immensely. Although she would never have admitted it, she was quite looking forward to dancing with the attractive earl.
When the great hall finally filled up with guests, Lord Penwyck sought out Tessa to lead the first set, a French cotillion.
"I do hope I have not forgotten the steps," Tessa whispered with genuine concern.
Lord Penwyck smiled down into her anxious blue eyes. "You have nothing to fear, Miss Darby. Had I thought you required another dance lesson before your debut, I would have insisted upon it."
Once the music began, Tessa relaxed and found moving through the simple pattern that comprised the dance a fairly easy prospect. She bowed, turned, stepped forward and back, circled beneath another gentleman's arm and returned again to her esteemed partner, Lord Penwyck.
"There, you see?" He smiled into her glittering blue eyes once more. "You are doing splendidly."
Throughout the lengthy dance, Penwyck could not help noticing the multitude of admiring glances being directed at his mother's lovely protégée. Miss Darby indeed looked a vision tonight. Her shiny auburn curls piled atop her head added several inches to her impressive height. With her chin held high, she looked as proud and regal as a princess. Penwyck did not expect the lovely Miss Darby would suffer from a lack of dance partners tonight.
Indeed, when the music ground to a halt, he was quickly shunted aside as half a dozen young men rushed forward to claim her hand for the next dance. Penwyck moved to the sidelines and stood quietly watching her.
" 'Evening, old man," came a gentleman's voice to Penwyck's left.
His dark eyes cut round. "Ashburn."
"Any of the young ladies on your list present tonight?" his good friend inquired jovially.
Penwyck's dark brow cocked. "Only one."
"Oh?" Mr. Ashburn gazed about with interest. "Must have added someone new. I don't recall seeing either Miss Carruthers or Lady Amabel when I . . . "
"I was referring to Miss Darby," Penwyck snapped.
Mr. Ashburn's blue eyes widened. "You have added Miss Darby's name to your list of eligibles?"
Penwyck shot his friend a dampening look. "Miss Darby is on the list of things I am obliged to take care of. The chit is proving . . . well, she is proving . . ."
"What?" Ashburn asked, his lips beginning to twitch with amusement. His gaze sought out the young lady in question. "Doesn't appear to need taking care of to me," he remarked candidly. "Although she may soon require a secretary to help sift through her many offers. I daresay the whole room is buzzing about your mother's fabulous new find. Recall telling you Miss Darby was destined to become the talk of the town. She is in splendid looks tonight."
Lord Penwyck's lips pursed irritably.
"She speaks French, you know," Ashburn remarked.
Penwyck snorted. "I sincerely doubt that, Ashburn. Talk about Miss Darby appears to be getting out of hand. I assure you, she speaks no foreign languages, and most assuredly not French."
Ashburn shrugged. "Well, everyone declares she is a diamond of the first water. And rightly so, unless I miss my guess."
Penwyck flicked a curious gaze at his friend. "Precisely what is being said about Miss Darby?" he inquired.
"That she is somewhat a mystery. That she has already turned down a Russian count and a . . . "
"Dickerson is the only chap I am aware of who has offered for her," Penwyck put in dryly.
Mr. Ashburn's brow puckered. "Old Lord Dickerson?" He laughed. "Can't say as I blame her for refusing him."
"By all that is right, she should have accepted the offer," Penwyck's tone was firm.
Mr. Ashburn said nothing as he stood quietly watching Tessa. "She's unlike any other young lady I've ever met," he observed quietly. "Just look at her."
Penwyck was. Standing with his gloved hands clasped behind his back, he hadn't been able to drag his eyes from Miss Darby the past half hour. At the moment, she was again surrounded by at least a dozen admirers, each young man preening and posturing in the vain hope of garnering the merest whit of attention from her, and every last one failing miserably.
"She don't seem to favor no one," Ashburn pointed out. "Rumour has it Miss Darby is . . . " he cast an appraising look at his esteemed companion, "already in love."
Penwyck cocked a dark brow. "Not possible," he stated flatly. "Rumour mill has run amok."
Noting a certain wistful quality in Mr. Ashburn's tone, Penwyck flicked another curious gaze at his friend. "Are you saying you fancy her?" he asked, but even as he spoke, an unexpected prick of . . . jealousy stabbed him. With calculated interest, he watched Ashburn's shoulders rise and fall nonchalantly.
" 'Course I fancy her. Miss Darby is clearly the sort of woman any young man would dream of marrying. I daresay I would find it hard to deny Miss Darby anything."
Penwyck started. Miss Darby had already caused him to give in to her demands, first with Lord Dickerson and second by not censuring her over the impropriety of calling on Mr. Cobbett.
"Allow me to caution you against pursuing the young lady too strenuously, Ashburn," Lord Penwyck declared firmly.
His companion regarded him suspiciously. "Why? Because you have aspirations?"
"Good God, no!" Penwyck sputtered, a bit too loudly and adamantly.
Ashburn studied him, then grinned. "Methinks thou dost protest too much, old man."
"Cut line, Ash. I am far too sensible. Miss Darby may be lovely to look at, but it is quite obvious the young lady is garnering attention simply because she is foreign. She is without artifice or affectation for the simple reason that colonists have none. They are simple people with simple ways."
"Miss Darby is English," Ashburn pointed out stubbornly.
"True, she was born in England. But she was raised in America amongst savages and lowlifes. Unfortunately, there is no escaping that."
With a curt nod to his friend, Penwyck strolled away.
He was making a cake of himself watching Miss Darby like the proverbial hawk. What utter rubbish that Ashburn would think he had aspirations in that vein! He had cautioned Ash against pursuing the young lady for the simple reason that he had uncovered certain alarming qualities in Miss Darby that were, indeed, unlike other young ladies in Town, qualities which Penwyck knew full well a decent man would find not only distasteful, but which he would be unprepared to deal with. Penwyck was simply sparing his good friend the trouble.
At least, that was the explanation he clung to now.
With a singleness of purpose, he strode across the room to one of the painted ship facades. Deliberately approaching one of a number of milk-and-water misses seated there, he politely inquired if she would like to stand up with him. Miss Darby was not the only young lady in the room.
But she was the only one who had danced every dance and whose slippers had begun to pinch her toes. As the fourth quadrille of the evening commenced, Tessa gazed longingly at the few vacant chairs inside the Nina and the Santa Maria.
As the guest of honor at her own debut, she wondered if she were allowed to sit out a dance or two . . . or even three. Suddenly, she caught sight of Deirdre gesturing agitatedly to her from the edge of the dance floor.
Tessa did not wait for the dance to end, but politely extricated herself from her partner and scurried to her friend's side.
"What is it, Deirdre? You look positively stricken!"
"Tessa, I need your help," Deirdre whispered. Tossing an anxious gaze over one shoulder, she drew Tessa behind an especially large painted tree. "I mean to . . . to run away tonight and . . . "
"Oh!" Tessa's blue eyes widened with alarm.
"I told Jeffrey I would slip away from the ball and come to him. I am certain my parents will never consent to our marrying. I mean to persuade Jeffrey to elope with me tonight."
"Oh, Deirdre!" Tessa sucked in her breath.
"I did not expect finding a carriage to take me to Jeffrey's such a daunting task. The drive and grounds are completely ranged-in with coaches. Not a one of Father's carriages can be got from the mews. I need your help, Tessa," she begged.
"But what can I do?"
"Please ask Lord Penwyck to drive me into the city. I am convinced he knows about Jeffrey and me, and as he had not yet betrayed us, I thought it safe to trust him tonight."
"Oh, Deirdre," Tessa began dubiously, "I cannot think that wise. Lord Penwyck is . . . " At precisely that moment, Tessa's eyes met Mr. Lowell Ashburn's smiling blue ones. An idea seized her. "Wait for me in the foyer, Deirdre. I know someone who can be trusted."
* * * * *
DRIVING HOME FROM THE ball that night, Lord Penwyck was again caught up in what he feared was becoming an obsessive fascination with the intriguing Miss Darby.
As usual, she was not behaving as expected. Most every young lady who had just made her debut in as spectacular a fashion as Miss Darby would be as atremble with excitement as the evening drew to a close as she had been for the weeks preceding it.
But Miss Darby was huddled in one corner of the dimly lit coach, her somewhat crumpled satin cloak drawn tightly about her shoulders as she stared . . . one might even say sullenly stared . . . from the coach window into the night.
It was Penwyck's mother who was nattering mindlessly on and on and on about the thrilling events of the evening.
"I declare I never expected Gracie to actually have the servants' heads shaved! But how better to display the brightly coloured feather headdresses? And where do you suppose she got all those exquisite feathers? I don't doubt she had them imported. We shall simply have to throw a lovely dinner party, or several dinner parties, for Gracie and Charles. I declare, this evening was a stupendous success. Tessa darling, you were splendid! Both the Princess Esterhazy and the Countess Lieven were in raptures over your gown. In fact, everyone demanded to know who made it! You were quite right to refuse the insipid white that most young ladies wear. You looked simply stunning. Did she not look stunning, Penny?"
By way of answer, Penwyck merely cleared his throat, his dark eyes cutting again to the shadowy figure of Miss Darby seated on the coach bench opposite him. Were it not for the fact that her head was still erect, he would think her fast asleep.
Suddenly, he was seized by an almost overpowering urge to take her by the shoulders and shake her. Why did she not behave as other young ladies did? And why did her stubborn refusal to conform irritate him so? It was as if she had some strange hold on him . . . a grip so powerful it compelled him to watch her, to note her every move, to censure her when her actions did not please him and yet, at the same time, he found her lovely and fascinating, and did not wish to change the least thing about her.
It was most confusing and most irritating. What was worse, his inability to drive the confounded young lady from his thoughts was keeping him awake nights and thoroughly disrupting his days.
As Tessa hurried up the stairs to her bedchamber that night, she couldn't help wondering how very angry Lord Penwyck would be with her once he learned she had helped Deirdre Montgomery run away to be married.