Martha chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Yes, you are right about that,” she replied.
“Indeed, I do not know what to think about any of it!” Charlotte exclaimed. She got up from her chair and paced restlessly around the room. “I find it hard to imagine how any of us shall escape this situation without a scandal!”
“Well, we shall just have to wait and see what happens when the Duke arrives. But maybe a scandal is not the worst thing to be feared,” Martha said softly. “There are worse things in the world, especially if the result of the scandal is a happy marriage based on true affection.”
* * *
Luke looked down at his boots and tutted. He knew he should have come in the carriage rather than on foot. But it was too late now. He had tramped through the fields, taking the opportunity to get some fresh air to clear his head, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that he had nearly reached the home of the Viscount of Haddington, he was not sure whether he was fit to be seen.
He could see the house now, on the other side of the parkland he was crossing. It was not the grandest house in the area by any means - nowhere near as grand as Seton Hall, for example. But it was still an impressive residence. He searched his memory to try to recall whether he had ever visited there before and found that he could not remember. It seemed unlikely since he had spent so much time abroad or in town over the last few years. He wished for a moment, then, that he was somehow better at navigating the ways of society. He should know whether he had visited this man, the viscount, and what they had talked of, what his interests were, rather than forgetting all the details. His father, surely, would have handled things better.
He sighed, then, at the thought of his father, and dropped down to sit on a log that lay next to the gateway leading to the Haddington estate. His father would have never embarked on such a hare-brained scheme as this false courtship with Miss Hervey. But it had all been so easy for his parents. His father had met his mother soon after his twenty-first birthday. She was just sixteen, but as the eldest daughter of an earl she was quite ready to be courted and married, and they had fallen in love and lived in perfect harmony until her death when Luke was only twelve years old. He felt sure that neither he nor his father had ever fully recovered from her loss.
And now he was six-and-twenty years old, and the issue of his own marriage was becoming pressing. He knew he had to secure the future of the dukedom and the safety of his estate, but he was determined to marry only for true affection, and he had never met a lady he liked enough to consider taking things further.
Not until now, at least. Despite his best intentions, he had found his thoughts returning to Miss Hervey repeatedly in the days that had passed since the ball. And now he was preparing to go and meet her father and ask for his permission to court her, and he felt his heart flutter a little at the thought of it. But he had to remember the rules of the game. This was not a real courtship. This was a pretense to buy him some time away from the marriage market and to entice Lord Harry to do the honorable thing regarding Miss Hervey.
He tugged at some long grass and began to wipe his boots with the blades, managing to clean off most of the mud. A duke he may be, but he knew full well that he still had to make a bit of an effort to impress the father of the lady he wished to court. Even if that courtship was just an act.
* * *
Alison was already in the drawing room with her mother, sitting as demurely as she could manage on the sofa. This time of day was always somewhat tense, especially after a big event such as the Thomas’s ball. It was a waiting game to see if any callers would appear. Her mother was always anxious in case they should be snubbed by their friends and acquaintances, and Alison was finding it hard to relax as she watched her pacing up and down the room.
“Mama, why don’t you sit down?” she said.
“I cannot relax!” Lady Margaret exclaimed. “How can I, on such a critical day as this! This is the second day when we might expect calls after the ball. No one bothered to come to call on us yesterday, and I will be so vexed if today we are not properly recognized by the people of the ton.”
Alison pondered her mother’s words for a moment. She had danced with several young gentlemen after the Duke had so brazenly rebuffed her, but she had not felt that any one of them had paid her any particular attention, and in all honesty, none of them had piqued her interest either. So far, the beginning of her season had been somewhat disappointing, and she was still bubbling with fury at Charlotte’s success at the ball.
The Duke of Seton dancing with Charlotte! It truly was the most incredible thing she had ever set eyes on. Plain, odd Charlotte, in her awful dress, tripping through the dance on the arm of the most eligible man in the room, in the county, nay, one of the most eligible men in the country! It was beyond comprehension. She and her mother had discussed it for many hours since the evening of the ball, and neither of them had been able to come up with any theory that made sense of the events of the evening.
And then Lord Miller had danced with Martha! He had also danced with her once, to be fair, but after their dance, he had not looked at her again, even though Alison knew that her gown was far more becoming than Martha’s. It was as if her stepsisters were conspiring against her to ruin her first season and cause her to be shamed and humiliated in front of the whole of the ton. Everyone would have seen the Duke slighting her and going to dance with Charlotte a second time.
And now, if no one came to call on them today, she and her mother would be humiliated once again. And if Alison did not find a good match, then she would become an old maid, and her stepfather would have to support her, and she felt sure that he would not want to do that indefinitely. The situation was dire indeed. Perhaps she would have to become a governess and teach someone else’s awful children how to read and write. She could not bear the thought of it.
Lady Margaret was standing at the window now, looking out hopefully at the gravel driveway that was visible from the drawing room. “Oh, why does no one come?” she complained. “I do not understand why we are not given the respect that we deserve. It is not as if we have done anything wrong, or there is any hint of doubt over our lineage, not like some people I might mention…”
Of course, she did not need to say anything else – Alison understood her meaning perfectly. She glanced towards the door of the drawing room, wondering why her stepsisters had not made themselves present yet. They were probably still fussing over their toilette. Her mother had made sure that Sally, the lady’s maid they all shared, had been fully monopolized by herself and Alison for the last half an hour, thus ensuring that Charlotte and Martha would have to get ready by themselves. Their hair would certainly not look as nice as her own, Alison thought, raising a hand to her brow to check that her curls were still in place.
Now, if only someone would come.
The door of the drawing room flew open, and they both looked around to see Charlotte and Martha finally entering, both looking rather irritatingly well-presented, despite the ruse with the maid.
Lady Margaret turned away from the window and faced them. “Girls, you have seen fit to join us at last, then?” she said waspishly.
Charlotte met her gaze calmly. “As you know, Sally was unable to help us get ready today. But I did not think we were late, Madam. Pray, do forgive me if that is not the case.”
Alison rolled her eyes. Charlotte was clearly in one of those moods where she pretended to be compliant and obedient. Alison knew deep down that Charlotte resented her and her mother bitterly for taking her father’s affections away from her and her sister.
“Your hair looks… singular, Martha dear,” Alison said with a slight sneer. In truth, there was nothing wrong with Martha’s hair. It actually looked rather nice. But Alison found it somewhat amusing to dent the poor girl’s confidence, making her even more shy and awkward than ever, especially in company.
Martha blushed furiously. “Thank you,” she muttered, staring at the ground.
Charlotte glared at Alison. “Her hair looks lovely!” she said firmly. Alison could see from the look in Charlotte’s eye that she knew exactly what Alison was up to. But she did not care. They were the competition, after all, especially after Charlotte’s little performance with the Duke at the ball.
Lady Margaret had turned back to look out of the window and had been tutting loudly at the lack of any carriage or barouche appearing to bring anyone to visit them, when suddenly she let out a squawk for surprise.
“Goodness, who can that be striding along the driveway?”
