Mary’s hazel eyes darkened a little.
“That is because youtellyourself that you are here as my chaperone, but you are well able to take part in the Season just as much as anyone else. I dislike seeing you so excluded. Can you not, for one evening, allow yourself a little enjoyment? Can you not permit yourself a few dances here and there? If you are so determined to only wed once I am settled, then you must make yourself known to the gentleman herethisSeason, else how will they know that you are seeking a match when the time comes?”
The anger which burned in Tara’s heart quickly died away to nothing but smoke and ashes, blown aside by the wind of her sister’s kind intentions. She had not done this out of a desire to embarrass Tara, nor to bring her any shame, but rather to encourage her. It had been very well meant, and yet Tara still battled with her feelings of upset and embarrassment. Her sister could not know, of course, of the strange situation that Tara had been in, previously, with Lord Pottinger, and thus could certainly not be aware of the tension which now flooded her.
“You were very forward, Mary.”
“Yes, I am well aware that I was, but it is not as thoughyouwere about to do anything like that, were you? You are not about to put yourself forward to dance with the gentlemen. No, you would rather stay back, hiding away as though you are not worthy of notice.”
Mary blinked rapidly and much to Tara’s surprise, there were tears in her eyes. Did she really feel so much for Tara’s significance - or lack of it – amongst society?
“I thank you.” There was nothing else for Tara to say, and her irritation faded as she found herself grateful for what had been shared between them. “You are very kind in your intentions, but I would much have preferred to have known about your plans prior to our meeting with Lord Pottinger.”
Her sister laughed softly and shook her head before wiping at her eyes.
“But you would have made quite certain I could not have done such a thing if I had told you of my intentions, and you could not convince me out of them, then I suspect you would have refused to attend. Is that not so?” Tara shrugged and turned her head away, her heart telling her that her sister was speaking the truth. That would have been precisely what she would have done. “Then come.” Smiling still, Mary linked arms with Tara before turning a quick smile towards Miss Duncansby. “Let us go in search of yet more eligible gentlemen with whom we mightallbe able to dance!”
Tara’s heart lifted with the warmth of knowing she was cared for and considered by her sister. Perhaps Mary had learned from that difficult situation after all. Perhaps shecouldpermit herself to enjoy the Season a little more - although she would much have preferrednotto dance with Lord Pottinger.
“I am sure that Lord Talbert will be glad to dance with you,” Miss Duncansby remarked, but much to Tara’s surprise, Mary shook her head.
“If Lord Talbert wishes to dance with me, then he may approach me himself,” she declared, turning her head to smile at Tara. “He is a gentleman who is very pleased with the attention he receives, rather than being eager to share his attentions with one particular young lady, I think.”
Tara turned her head to look at Mary as her sister smiled, relief pouring into her heart.
“I quite agree,” she murmured as Mary grinned. “You must always find a gentleman worthy of you, one who is willing to give you every single modicum of his attention.”
“I have every intention of doing so.”
Tossing her head in a rather spirited fashion, Mary immediately began to walk across the ballroom, having seen someone else with whom she might converse. Tara allowed herself to be led forward, despite her inner struggles. It could be that her sister was correct. Perhaps it was time to allow herself a little fun.
* * *
“Areyou ready for the polka? I confess that it has been some time since I have danced it, so you will have to forgive me if I make a mistake here and there.”
I am certain that he does not recognize me, despite my fears.
“I find myself in much the same situation, Lord Pottinger,” Tara managed to say, trying desperately to push aside the guilt that threatened to cling to every part of her, sending anxiety and fear into the very depths of her soul. She was much too close to him, and her senses were already swimming. “I have not danced in some time.”
“But how can that be?” Lord Pottinger smiled, and his eyes lit up to a brilliant blue. “A young lady in society such as yourself? I cannot understand why any gentleman would not seek you out to dance.”
Her cheeks warmed and she looked away, a little embarrassed by his compliments. Telling herself that many young ladies in London would have received similar remarks from him, she managed to murmur a quiet thank you. She was herself entirely unworthy of any kindness from him.
Tara managed to glance at him, seeing him smile. That smile sent something molten into the pit of her belly and she immediately had to look away, relieved when the music began. Stepping forward determinedly, for the polka was a rather energetic dance and there was not a lot of time left for conversation, Tara sank into a curtsey. Lord Pottinger’s forehead was lined with concentration, although his steps were sure and, throughout the dance, he made very little by way of mistakes. It did not seem that he had forgotten any of the steps at all. Tara forced her mind to remain solely on the dance, so that she would not become distracted by Lord Pottinger’s presence. When the dance came to an end, she curtsied and managed another smile, truly relieved that she would have no cause to step out with him again, nor deal with any further conversation.
“An excellent dance, I think. I quite enjoyed that.” Offering her his arm, Lord Pottinger led her away to the side of the ballroom, near to where her sister and Miss Duncansby were standing. She made to thank him for the dance and return to their company, only for him to release her arm, but instead drop his hand to catch her fingers. “Forgive me for being so forward, but there is something about you that…” Trailing off, he shook his head. “What I mean to say is that there is something about you that I find familiar. Pray tell me, have we been introduced before? I am aware that your sister’s friend, Miss Duncansby, made the most recent introductions, but perhaps that is because there was no obvious awareness on my part. Forgive me if that was so.”
Tara blinked, nausea beginning to roll around her stomach. Was he genuine in his question, or was this a way of forcing the truth from her by unsettling her, rendering her worried and afraid about what he knew? She could not blame him if the latter were the case, for her behavior more than merited it.
“I am afraid we have never been introduced before.”
The smile that had lit up his eyes immediately retreated, and his brows pulled downwards. That was the truth, at least. She did not want to degrade herself further by issuing a lie from her mouth. He deserved as much of the truth from her as she could give him.
“Are you quite certain? It seems to me that there is something that my heart or mind understands about you.”
“I am quite sure that we have never been introduced.” Tara demanded that her lips curve into a smile, but her heart sank when they refused to obey. “I am certain that I would have remembered it, had I been introduced to one of the most amiable gentlemen in London, for that is how you are known.”
This seemed to draw a smile from Lord Pottinger, and he immediately followed that line of conversation and did not again wonder aloud as to their possible previous meeting.
