Chapter 8

 

As Lord Ashdon escorted his mother up the wide carpeted stairs to the receiving line, Lady Ashdon said acidly, "You needn't clutch my elbow so tightly, Adam. I agreed to accompany you tonight, after all. I have no intention of bolting."

"My pardon, Mother," said Lord Ashdon, at once relaxing his hold. "I did not realize that I was behaving uncivilly. I appreciate the effort you are making on my behalf."

"Yes. Well, it is quite true that I am putting myself forth for you in an extraordinary manner," said Lady Ashdon. She cut a glance around her. "I never attend these insipid affairs. How ever did I allow you to persuade me to do so this evening? I do not at all comprehend it."

"As I told you, Mother, Mrs. Weatherstone was kind enough to include me among her guests, and I did not wish to appear alone at such an event," said Lord Ashdon quietly. "Especially knowing that Mrs. Weatherstone had sent an invitation to you. It would be odd for me to do so."

"There would not be the least oddity attached to my absence, I assure you," snapped Lady Ashdon. "No doubt there will not be a single personage in attendance whom I shall wish to see."

With relief, Lord Ashdon saw that he and his mother were shortly to approach their host and hostess. At least he would be spared his parent's acid tongue for a moment or two.

Though she had been standing beside her aunt and uncle already for half an hour, Belie was still nervous on the evening of her come-out ball. She had already been informally introduced to society, and so naturally there were many among the guests with whom she was already acquainted. This particular function was different, however, for she was to be the object of attention.

As she stood with her uncle and aunt at the head of the stairs, receiving the guests, she could at least reassure herself that she looked her best. Her coiffure had been carefully done, taking advantage of the natural wave in her chestnut hair so that wisps of curls softened her brow. The gown that her aunt had ordered for her was ravishing, all lace and seed pearls on pale blue, and showed off her slender figure admirably. Her grandfather had sent down the string of pearls that had once belonged to her grandmother, with a note urging her to wear the glowing, translucent necklace at her come-out ball, along with the expressed wish that he might see her on her grand night. Belle heartily wished that her grandfather had been in attendance, for she felt that she needed the support of Sir Marcus's bracing personality.

Belle smiled and replied graciously to all the greetings made to her, hardly recalling what it was that she said to anyone. She was all too aware of her aunt's occasional glance and considering expression throughout the interval, and she hoped that she was doing all that was considered proper. If she made any missteps, she was not aware of them.

Belle was relieved when she saw Lord and Lady Moorehead coming up the stairs with Miss Moorehead just behind them. Belle greeted the Mooreheads with all the reserved familiarity owed to those with whom she was well acquainted.

Lady Moorehead smiled and said, "Well! Your aunt must be very proud of you this evening, Belle. You show to great advantage."

"I truly hope so, my lady," said Belle in all sincerity.

"Indeed, Mr. Weatherstone and I are vastly pleased with Belle," said Mrs. Weatherstone, smiling, extending her own hand to Lord and Lady Moorehead and drawing them forward.

As her aunt and uncle spoke a few moments with the Mooreheads, Belle was at last free to greet her friend. When she took Miss Moorehead's hand, she whispered, "I am so nervous, Clarice."

"You, Belle?" Clarice's glance was openly skeptical.

"Yes, I!" retorted Belle. At once she felt some of her tension ease. She said fervently, "Oh, thank you, Clarice! I feel ever so much hotter now."

Her friend giggled and passed on with her parents into the ballroom.

Hidden by the other guests in the receiving line until that moment, Lord Ashdon stepped forward. Meeting the viscount's gaze, Belle's heart bumped painfully. She felt warmth rise in her cheeks and wondered at herself for reacting at the sight of his lordship like little more than a schoolgirl. She had so many admirers, but only in Lord Ashdon's presence did she feel as though she became slightly light-headed. She could not imagine why the viscount should affect her so.

Lord Ashdon was escorting an elegant lady whom Belle had no difficulty in recognizing. Suddenly Belle felt her aunt's fingers grip her elbow and heard her astonished whisper, "Why, it is Lady Ashdon!"

Belle knew that she was highly honored by Lady Ashdon's presence, and if she hadn't known that she was, she would certainly have realized it by her ladyship's gracious yet distinctly condescending smile.

Lady Ashdon offered two fingers in greeting. "Miss Weatherstone."

"My lady," murmured Belle, meeting her ladyship's gaze.

Lady Ashdon nodded to her. Her gray eyes were cold and appraising. "Miss Weatherstone, I am glad to have the opportunity to further our acquaintance."

"And I, my lady," said Belle with a smile.

Lady Ashdon smiled again and moved forward, making her greeting to the Weatherstones. During the stilted exchanges between the Weatherstones and Lady Ashdon, it was revealed by Mrs. Weatherstone that they had been previously acquainted with the viscount.

"Oh?" Lady Ashdon cast a glance toward her son before bending a polite smile on her hostess. "I am quite in the dark, Mrs. Weatherstone. Pray do enlighten me."

"Why, did not Lord Ashdon mention it to you, my lady? We became quite well acquainted with his lordship during his convalescence last year in Bath," said Mrs. Weatherstone with a smile. "Lord Ashdon and my niece often spoke together in the Pump Room."

"Indeed," murmured Lady Ashdon. She said all that was proper, with a great deal more warmth than before, and paused a few steps away to await her son.

Lord Ashdon bowed over Belle's hand, and as he straightened, his eyes gleamed with amusement. He said quietly, "My mother is a veritable dragon, you know."

Belle started to laugh, but quickly changed it to a cough. "I scarcely know how to reply to that, my lord."

He grinned down at her and said, "Damned to perdition whatever you say, Miss Weatherstone?"

"Something of the sort," agreed Belle, with a lurking smile. "Though I do not think that I would phrase it just so."

Lord Ashdon chuckled. "Naturally not. Pray keep a dance open for me, Miss Weatherstone," he said.

"I shall certainly do so, my lord," said Belle. She watched as Lord Ashdon joined his mother and moved on to make way for other guests still arriving.

"Very well done, Belle," said Mrs. Weatherstone approvingly. "I do believe that you accredited yourself well in Lady Ashdon's eyes."

"I hope so, Aunt," said Belle, and turned to the next guest coming up the stairs.

As Lord Ashdon escorted his mother into the ballroom, Lady Ashdon said, "You first met the Weatherstones in Bath. How interesting, to be sure."

Instantly, Lord Ashdon realized what had happened. He pretended an indifference he did not actually feel. "Is it?" It was unfortunate that his previous acquaintance with Miss Weatherstone had come out so soon. He could see that his mother had made the obvious connection to his announced intention to seek his bride in Bath. If there was one thing he did not need, it was Lady Ashdon making his tentative attempt at a courtship very much her business.

"I am completely reconciled to coming this evening. Suddenly I find myself very much interested in furthering my own acquaintance with Miss Weatherstone and her delightful guardians," said Lady Ashdon.

Lord Ashdon acknowledged an acquaintance who hailed him with a wave, but he did not pause in his leisurely escort of his mother around the periphery of the colonnaded ballroom. "Pray do not leap to conclusions, ma'am. Unsupported assumptions often fail to live up to expectation," he said quietly.

"Quite true, Adam. One must never pin one's hopes on imaginations. Miss Weatherstone is, however, obviously quite important to you," said Lady Ashdon.

They stopped in their progress to speak for a moment or two to others who were known to them both. Lord Ashdon accepted the welcoming words of those who recalled him from years past and who now pronounced themselves very well satisfied to see him once again in England.

"As am I," said Lady Ashdon to one of these. "I am confident that Ashdon will perform his duty at last and settle down with some worthy young lady,"

"Oh, to be sure, to be sure," said their acquaintance, sliding a curious glance toward the viscount's amiable countenance. "Is the fortunate young lady someone with whom we might be acquainted?"

"As to that, I really could not say," said Lady Ashdon, bestowing her cool smile along with a significant nod.

Lord Ashdon could only smile over gritted teeth, as the obvious connection was made, based on his presence at a debutante's come-out ball. "The Weatherstones kindly included me in their invitation to my mother when they realized I was residing with her ladyship," he said hastily.

"Of course, dear boy. Nothing could be more natural," said their acquaintance. The conversation politely moved on to other topics, to Lord Ashdon's relief.

By the time Lord Ashdon resumed their promenade about the ballroom, he had had a few moments in which to formulate a strategy that might serve to throw a bit of dust into his parent's eyes, so that her ladyship would not be further tempted to imply a possible connection between himself and Miss Weatherstone. He had no desire to make of himself and Miss Weatherstone an object of public interest.

"Miss Weatherstone is not the only young lady whom I have honored with my attentions, my lady," he remarked.

As Lord Ashdon had hoped, Lady Ashdon's attention was firmly attached. Her gaze fixed upon his face. "What are you saying, Adam?"

"Only that I have done as you bade me, ma'am," he responded lightly. "I am widening my circle of acquaintances. For instance, earlier this week I attended a soiree hosted by Peter Crocker and his wife. Do you know them?"

"Crocker... no, I can't say that I do," said Lady Ashdon. She had stopped in her tracks and was plying her fan in a leisurely fashion that did not fool her son for a moment. Lord Ashdon knew that she was intensely curious. "Just what are you hinting at, Adam?"

"Why, you must certainly make their acquaintance, too, Mother," said Lord Ashdon. He paused a moment as he slanted a tantalizing smile at his astonished parent. "You see, I met Mrs. Crocker's younger sister at Almack's. Mrs. Crocker is sponsoring Miss Fairchilde this Season. Miss Fairchilde is not a great beauty, nor has she an immense portion, but she is gently bred."

Lady Ashdon was fairly gaping up at him. "Well! I must say that you have surprised me not a little, Adam. You have been industrious since our talk, have you not?"

"I am nothing if not a good soldier, ma'am," said Lord Ashdon. At his mother's questioning expression, he smiled. "I am reconnoitering the ground."

"Really, Adam!" Lady Ashdon snapped her fan shut. "What an absurd comparison. Reconnoitering, indeed!" She took his arm again. "But I shall not scold you, for I am very well satisfied with what you have imparted to me. I am glad that you have finally come to your senses and are taking your duty to heart at last."

“Then I am happy, ma'am," said Lord Ashdon, lifting his mother's hand to his lips and brushing a kiss across her gloved knuckles.

Lady Ashdon smiled, rather warmly by her standards. She was quiet for a moment, then her eyebrows rose as she inquired, "Are there any other young ladies, besides Miss Weatherstone and Miss Fairchilde, who have caught your eye?"

"Not at present," said Lord Ashdon quite truthfully. He was relieved, for it appeared that his little stratagem was serving him well, at least for the moment. Lady Ashdon's focus had been successfully deflected from its primary target, which had been Miss Weatherstone, to a broader spectrum, and that suited him perfectly.

"I believe you are correct, Adam. I must certainly make it my object to become acquainted with the Crockers," said Lady Ashdon decisively. "By the by, have you been introduced to the Moorehead girl, Miss Clarice Moorehead? She is the younger daughter and is very well favored, being an heiress as well as something of a beauty. It's a pity that she is a redhead, but one should not be too judgmental, should one?"

"No, I have not had that pleasure," said Lord Ashdon, his satisfaction dimming slightly as he realized that his little subterfuge had also strengthened Lady Ashdon's original determination to bring every respectable marriageable miss to his attention.

“Then I shall do the honors this very moment, for there are Lord Moorehead and his lady now, and that is Miss Moorehead sitting beside them," said Lady Ashdon with satisfaction. "They are not particular acquaintances of mine, of course, but that scarcely matters in this instance."

Lord Ashdon groaned inwardly, but nothing of his annoyance appeared in his face as he reluctantly accompanied his mother over to the Mooreheads.

It was thirty minutes after Lord Ashdon's arrival before Mrs. Weatherstone deemed there to have been sufficient time for receiving all those who intended to come. Belle was relieved to be done with her duty at last and readily acceded to her aunt's suggestion that it was time to leave the stairs. Mr. Weatherstone escorted his spouse and Belle into the ballroom to join their guests.

Belle was at once besieged by gentlemen who wished to sign her dance card. It was a heady feeling to be so sought after, but really there was just one gentleman that she hoped to dance with, and that was Lord Ashdon. She glanced casually about as she conversed with her admirers, at last locating his lordship across the ballroom. He was bowing to her friend Clarice, obviously soliciting her for the set.

Belle felt an unreasonable spurt of jealousy, for which she was instantly repentant. Of course Lord Ashdon would dance with others besides herself, and there was scarcely anyone whom she would consider more worthy of his lordship's attentions than her dear friend Clarice. Nevertheless, Belle, rather guiltily, felt that she would have been glad if Clarice had stumbled and torn the lace at her hem, necessitating a quick withdrawal to the sewing room.

She did not have long to think about it, however, as she was immediately whisked onto the dance floor and had no more than fleeting moments of opportunity to look for Lord Ashdon, since not one set went by that her hand was not bespoken. Then, all at once, it seemed, it was Lord Ashdon who was holding out his hand to her and requesting the honor of a dance. He looked down at her with his easy smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he gazed at her with an expression of admiration and good nature. Belle's heart gave a leap of happiness. "I would be most honored, my lord."

As she rose from her chair and took her place beside Lord Ashdon in the set, her whole being steadied, and nothing since her arrival in London seemed quite as gratifying as her come-out ball.