Gabriel had never enjoyed going to society parties and especially not balls. In fact, he’d made a point of avoiding all such entertainments for the longest time that it felt rather odd attending two balls just days apart. But for his grandmother, he found he would do whatever it took to make her happy, and clearly, attending society events—even balls—did so. And so, he found himself at Lady Orford’s ball just a few evenings later.
“Oh, I see a dear friend of mine,” Lady Willington said soon after they arrived. “Do excuse me, my love.”
He could do nothing but stand by the door and watch as the lady made her way carefully among the partygoers.
“Looks like you’ve been abandoned by your lovely companion,” a man said with a laugh as he joined Gabriel.
He turned and found Lord Brice, one of the boys he’d known at school. They had never been friends, as Brice was a few years older, but they’d known of each other. Brice was a good-looking fellow if rather thin. Gabriel had heard that the ladies liked his blond hair and piercing green eyes, but for himself, Gabriel always found the odd glint in the man’s eyes a bit off-putting—as if he knew something you didn’t, and he wasn’t about to tell.
Gabriel gave a little laugh. “Yes. I’m afraid she does that pretty frequently. Sometimes it’s hard to keep track of her for all her flitting about.”
“Really? You wouldn’t expect that of someone her age.”
“I’m afraid I’m teasing you, Brice. She does tend to stay in one place for much of the evening. It is I who she sends away usually.” The thought brought to mind Brice’s reputation as quite the rake. “Say, you are a favorite among the fairer sex, aren’t you?”
The man gave a little chuckle. “I believe I might have the distinction. I can’t say anyone’s ever declined an invitation.”
Gabriel nodded. “Perhaps you might, er, introduce me?”
“Be happy to! Who would you like to meet?”
“Anyone pleasant to look at and on the lookout for a husband,” he said, not without a little foreboding.
His friend’s eyes went wide. “Do not tell me that you—”
“Good evening, Lord Brice,” a warm voice purred from Brice’s other side.
Both men turned to greet the lady. She was a handsome woman with dark-brown hair and light-blue eyes, probably in her mid-thirties and dressed in a deep-red silk gown that was cut so low Gabriel wondered if a mishap wasn’t about to occur.
“Ah, Lady Winbourne, what a delight to see you this evening,” Lord Brice said, taking the lady’s proffered hand and placing a kiss on the back of it.
“I’m certain it is. And who, pray tell, is your handsome friend?” she asked, not taking her eyes off Gabriel.
Brice didn’t seem to mind being so quickly dismissed. “My lady, may I present Gabriel, Marquess of Willington?”
“Willington? I believe I’ve heard of you,” the lady said, looking Gabriel over critically.
Gabriel bowed. “It is a pleasure, my lady.”
“Now, what have I heard?” she asked, while managing to move herself between the two men. She reached out and smoothed a hand down his coat lapel. “Why does your name ring a bell?”
Gabriel had a hard time not recoiling from this woman between her overwhelming perfume and her breath, which smelled of liquor. “I honestly cannot say, but I would kindly request you remove your hand from my person,” he said.
She frowned. “Oh, yes, that was it.” Her hand dropped to her side. “I heard you were a cold fish. What a shame, I have a lovely, marriageable daughter. Well, I shall just have to find someone else for her.” She heaved a great sigh, then turned to Brice. “Lord Brice, if only you were interested.”
“I am so sorry, my lady, but marriage is just not for me. However, I would be more than happy to—” he leaned down and whispered something in her ear. She threw her head back with a great laugh, drawing the eyes of everyone nearby.
“Oh, my lord, you are too much!” she exclaimed. She gave him a sly smile. “We shall certainly meet again very soon. Will you go to Lord Mentrose’s tomorrow night?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it,” Brice said.
“Good, I will see you there.” And with that, she sauntered away.
Gabriel watched her go and then turned back to Brice, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.
“I don’t know Mentrose,” Gabriel commented.
“Oh, he throws the best orgies. If you’re interested—”
“No! Thank you. Er, not my thing,” Gabriel interrupted him. He was beginning to think he’d made a mistake asking this man for introductions. Clearly, he didn’t associate with the sort of women Gabriel was interested in.
“Well, you just managed to offend one of the most well-known ladies of the ton.”
“What is she known for, sleeping around?” Gabriel asked with a frown.
“Precisely. I think she has graced the bed of nearly half the men in this room.”
Gabriel couldn’t help but make a disgusted sound. “Well then, excuse me if I am not terribly upset at the lady’s lack of interest.”
“Goodness, you are a cold fish!” Brice said with another laugh. “Come on then, let me introduce you to others of your ilk, only in female form.” He led the way while Gabriel was beginning to be grateful for his reputation. A cold, distant young lady was precisely the sort he wanted to marry.
Emilie found her friends at Lady Orford’s ball doing what they always did, discussing the happenings all around them.
“I simply cannot believe that gown,” Miss Smyth said, watching the dancers. “It not only has four flounces but lace as well!”
“Is that Miss Talbot?” Emilie asked, turning to look.
“Who else?” Miss Winter asked with a little giggle. Her black hair was pulled up in a complicated coiffure that Emilie thought a little much. Unlike her mother, however, Miss Winter hid her bold curves with a neckline to her dress that nearly came up to her throat.
“Where is Miss Merrill?” Emilie asked, noticing one of their usual group was missing.
“Dancing! Can you imagine?” Miss Winter said, nodding toward the floor.
“Not with Lord Dunright?” Emilie asked in shock.
“No! With Lord Easton,” Miss Smyth answered.
“Oh, he’s the one I promenaded with the other night. He’s not so bad,” Emilie said, remembering the gentleman. “He hadn’t been able to trod on my toes as we were merely walking and not dancing, and his conversation was less than erudite.”
Miss Winter giggled again.
“I don’t know about his footwork, but would you look at that waistcoat! Have you ever seen a gentleman in such a shade of pink before?” Miss Smyth asked.
With this description, Emilie easily found the gentleman. “Oh my! It certainly is, er, vibrant,” she agreed.
“Why couldn’t he be more understated and elegant like the man near him. Now that is exactly the sort of thing a man should wear,” Miss Smyth said.
“I cannot agree more, Miss Smyth,” a lady’s voice said from behind Emilie. She spun around to find Lady Winbourne standing next to her daughter. Not one of them had seen her approach, they’d been so focused on the people dancing.
“Oh, Mother!” Miss Winter said, her cheeks turning pink.
“Good evening, ladies,” Lady Winbourne said, giving them all a smile. “Now, while I do approve of your excellent taste in gentlemen’s clothing, Miss Smyth, I would warn you against the gentleman wearing that very elegant waistcoat.
Emilie turned back around. She hadn’t even had a chance to follow who Miss Smyth had been talking about. “I didn’t see the gentleman in question, which one was it?” she asked her friend.
“The man two gentlemen down from Lord Easton,” Miss Smyth said, also looking back at the dance floor. “He’s wearing a black coat with a deep-gray waistcoat with silver embroidery.”
Emilie followed Miss Smyth’s directions and… gasped.
“It sounds as if you are already acquainted with the gentleman,” Lady Winbourne said. “I admit he is a handsome devil. One might wish he were a bit more, well, devilish. A colder man I have never met,” the lady said with a sniff.
Emilie met Miss Winter’s gaze. Her friend rolled her eyes.
“Why do you say that, my lady?” Emilie couldn’t help but ask. The young man she remembered wasn’t cold at all—in fact, just the opposite. She could still remember the heat of his lips on her own. She could still smell the fresh, clean scent of soap on him, as if he’d just washed his face, and remember the feel of running her fingers through the soft curls of his dark hair. His deep-brown eyes had looked into her own with so much passion she’d felt scorched by it. Oh, no, there was absolutely nothing cold about Lord Gabriel.
Lady Winbourne frowned at her daughter. “And no, Helen, it is not because he rebuffed me. Ask any woman here who has had the displeasure of meeting Lord Willington, and they will tell you. He is cold, unfeeling, and, not infrequently, downright rude.”
“Really?” Emilie asked. This wasn’t at all the boy she remembered. Of course, the fact that he’d kissed her could be coloring her memory.
“Oh, so you do not know him?” Lady Winbourne asked.
“I do… er, well, I met him many years ago. He and my brother went to school together,” Emilie told her.
“Well, perhaps he has changed since he was a boy, but I’ve heard he is now on the lookout for a wife, and I would not recommend going after that particular quarry no matter how delightful he is to look at.” She turned toward her daughter. “Now, Helen, I came over here to introduce you to a perfectly acceptable young man. Come along, my dear.”
Miss Winter looked at Emilie and Miss Smyth with widened, disbelieving eyes before chasing after her mother.
“Goodness, I’ve never heard Lady Winbourne speak so about a gentleman,” Miss Smyth said. “Lord Willington must be quite an unpleasant gentleman.”
“Well, I would not dismiss the lady’s warning despite her reputation,” Emilie said. She, herself, would do her utmost to avoid him, that was for certain—who would want to be with a man who made one feel overly warm? She turned away from the dancers and caught sight of her mother just as Lady Haddenfield was approaching her with another lady. Emilie watched as Lady Haddenfield introduced her companion. The unknown woman was very elegantly dressed in a gray silk gown, which set off her midnight black hair. A pair of small white feathers bobbed above the lady’s head as she nodded to Emilie’s mother.
“I wonder who that is,” she whispered to herself.
“Who who is?” Miss Merrill asked, joining them now the dance had ended. It was easy for her to peer over Emilie’s shoulder thanks to her height, and she did so now, trying to follow Emilie’s line of sight.
“What? Oh, nobody.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She turned around and asked, “How was your dance with Lord Easton?”
The girl shrugged. “Fine.” She looked back at Lady Tremelling. “Were you looking at the ladies with your mother? That’s Lady Haddenfield and Lady…” She paused. “I don’t believe I know who the other lady is,” Miss Merrill admitted. She turned to Miss Smyth and, before Emilie could stop her, asked, “Do you know the lady with Lady Haddenfield and Lady Tremelling?”
Miss Smyth redirected her attention, narrowing her eyes in the direction of Emilie’s mother. “That’s Lady Preston, I believe. I don’t know her, but she’s been pointed out to me once by my brother. I can’t recall why.”
“Well, I’m sure Lady Haddenfield just wanted to introduce the lady around. Perhaps she’s new to London,” Emilie offered.
“No, I’m certain she’s not. Oh, now this is going to bother me! I don’t remember who she is,” Miss Smyth said with a shake of her head.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’s no one we need to know,” Emilie said. “Did you see the gown Miss Fortwell is wearing?” she said, deliberately redirecting everyone’s attention to the dance floor once again, much to her relief.
As the girls discussed the gowns, Emilie kept stealing glances over toward her mother. Lady Preston had moved on, much to Emilie’s relief. She didn’t know why, but she felt it was odd that her mother had never met the lady before. Emilie had always thought her mother knew just about everyone in society—most of the ladies, at least. Well, she supposed you never grew too old to make new friends.
Lady Willington gave Gabriel’s arm a pat as he attempted to get her to take a seat in one of the little gilt chairs lining the wall. “You are a very considerate boy, Willington, but I do not need coddling,” she told him.
“I just want to ensure that you aren’t overtaxing yourself, Gran. Are you certain I can’t get you a chair?”
“No! I am perfectly fine on my own feet. And if I get tired, I have my cane to lean on. Now, why don’t you go ask some pretty young lady to dance?”
“I danced the last set. I thought I’d sit out this dance with you,” he told her, giving her a warm smile.
She reluctantly returned it because Gabriel knew she loved him, whether he annoyed her with his oversolicitous behavior or not. “Very well. In that case, why don’t you—”
He would never find out what he could do for the lady because just at that moment Lady Tremelling came over and joined them. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t notice him in the crush of people at the ball. Sadly, she had.
“Good evening, Lady Willington, how absolutely wonderful it is to see you grace the ballrooms of society once again,” Lady Tremelling said, giving Gran a slight curtsy.
“Ah, Lady Tremelling. Yes, it is a good evening. It is wonderful to be back in Town. I must admit I have missed this!” she said, giving the lady a polite smile. She was only the seventh person to welcome Gran back, each and every one saying exactly the same thing. And Gran replied exactly the same way each time. Gabriel wondered if she was getting tired of that even more than she was of standing on her feet for so long.
“And Lord Willington, how do you do? I hope you will both accept my condolences,” Lady Tremelling said, looking at them both.
“Of course. Thank you so much, my lady,” Gabriel said with a slight bow.
“I did notice you dancing earlier, my lord, dare I hope along with your new position you have decided to find yourself a bride?”
“Indeed, my lady,” Gabriel answered.
“Aren’t all your girls married, Lady Tremelling?” Gran asked. “Or is there one more?” Lady Willington furrowed her forehead as she tried to remember.
“I have three daughters, my lady. The eldest is married to Lord Alford and the youngest to Lord Sommets,” the lady replied.
“Ah, that’s right, that’s right. Did the third have a Season at all? You will forgive an old lady for not remembering such details,” Gran asked.
“No, actually, she didn’t. Lord Sommets is a neighbor. He and Amelia have been close forever. It was only natural that he offer for her the moment she was old enough,” Lady Tremelling said with a smile and a slight shrug of her shoulders.
“Well, I suppose that was easy for you.” Lady Willington chuckled.
“Indeed.” The lady just smiled.
“So, your middle girl is still without. Well, Willington, it sounds as if you should meet the gel,” his grandmother said, turning to him.
A shiver of trepidation ran down Gabriel’s spine. He knew Lady Tremelling’s middle daughter. He knew her much too well, and he was pretty certain things wouldn’t go well should her mother reintroduce them.
He had yet to even see the girl again. In truth, he was rather terrified to do so. He had no idea how he would react. He hoped he would behave with her exactly the way he would to any other woman—with indifference. He hoped his carefully built wall, behind which he now kept his emotions, would stand firm against the loveliness that was Emilie Pelham. But he had no idea and was certain it would not be a good idea to put it to the test.
“I absolutely would like to meet your daughter, my lady,” he started, “but—”
“There are no buts, young man, go meet her. It’s an excellent idea,” Lady Willington said.
“I, er…” Gabriel tried again.
“Come right this way, my lord, and I’ll introduce you,” Lady Tremelling said, indicating he should go with her.
“Actually, we’ve already met,” he said, stalling.
“Of course, you have! I remember it well,” the lady said. “I do apologize, I misspoke. Come and allow me to re-introduce you.”
“But I—”
“When did you meet her, Willington?” his grandmother asked, clearly beginning to see that Gabriel really didn’t want to go with Lady Tremelling.
“When I was in school. I spent the Easter holidays one year with Evan, er, Lord Tremelling.”
“They had a wonderful time together, if I recall,” Lady Tremelling said, giving Gran a smile.
“Oh, well then, you truly must renew your acquaintance with the girl,” Gran said, giving him a nod. “It would be very rude if you did not,” she added with a warning tone to her voice.
When she spoke that way, Gabriel knew if he didn’t do as she said he would hear about it for days. No, he had absolutely no choice but to go meet Lady Emilie—the sweet, beautiful young woman he’d fallen in love with and then kissed senseless before her brother discovered them.