“I suppose that will have to do.” It was all very peculiar, but then this was a very peculiar situation. For all Alice—or Lucy—knew, her mother could have been Romani. This whole wretched business was a fantasy. Or a nightmare, if it got out.
Chapter Five
Alice paused in the doorway of the Charlton House reception rooms. They’d arrived late on purpose. As she explained to Lucy, it was easier to enter a room full of people than to be standing awkwardly, waiting for everyone else to arrive. Besides, it was fashionable to be a little late.
“Don’t be nervous, it’s just a small family party,” Alice murmured.
“I’m not nervous.” Lucy gazed around the room curiously.
No, if anyone was nervous, it was Alice. She’d attended very few social events since Thaddeus’s death—none at all during her year of mourning, and very few since she’d gone into half mourning. She hadn’t enjoyed them.
At each event, some so-called gentleman had sidled up to her and, after some token conversation, had made her an improper proposition. How could they imagine she’d be interested? She’d given them no reason to think so—she didn’t even flirt!—but it was apparently a widespread belief that a widow must be desperately missing her husband’s marital attentions.
Alice was relieved to be spared them.
But tonight she was hereen chaperone. All she had to worry about was Lucy, because surely, at a family party—her late husband’s family at that—nobody would approach her with indecent suggestions.
That was why she’d allowed her maid, Mary, to persuade her into the new dress that Miss Chance had made her. The design of the dress was perfectly respectable and the color quite comme il faut for a widow of eighteen months, and yet it felt like a gorgeously frivolous froth of a dress, a gleaming smoky cloud of lilac silk and taffeta—too pretty, no doubt, for a small family party, but who cared? It had been ages since she’d worn anything new, and in this dress she felt somehow lighter, younger. Ready to go dancing, though there would be no dancing tonight. Almeria’s parties were invariably dull.
She knew, she just knew that Almeria would disapprove of the dress. If Almeria had her way, she’d have Alice wearing black widow’s weeds for the rest of her life. And just the thought of that put a smile on Alice’s face.
She glanced at Lucy, who was scanning the crowded room with a faint anticipatory smile on her face. She, too, was feeling the magic of a pretty new dress and the confidence that came with the knowledge that she was looking her best in pale gold muslin and a lacy cream shawl.
Alice could hardly believe the difference between the girl who stood beside her now and the one she’d first met—sullen and withdrawn in the unflattering, overly elaborate dress and the heavy, fussy lacquered mass of ringlets.
Mary had braided Lucy’s tawny hair in a simple coronet around the crown of her head and tucked in some tiny yellow faux rosebuds. The simple style showed off Lucy’s lovely complexion and bright eyes. Her face had the roundness of youth, and now that it wasn’t half drowned in a mass of fat corkscrew curls, you could see the cheekbones that wouldemerge as she matured. She wasn’t a beauty, but she was quite arresting.
As long as she behaved herself, Lucy couldn’t fail to make a good impression.
Alice glanced around, looking for her hostess. It was rather more crowded than she’d expected. Not quite the intimate little “at home” gathering Almeria had indicated. Alice knew about half the people there, and as for the others, some she’d seen before, though never met, and quite a few were complete strangers. Not as many young gentlemen as she’d expected, though, which surprised her. One would have thought a party to celebrate a young man’s birth would have attracted more men of his age.
Alice found her sister-in-law, resplendent in puce silk and gold lace, and greeted her cordially. “Almeria, what a very pleasant gathering. Thank you for inviting us.” Strictly speaking, Almeria hadn’t invited them at all. Gerald had.
Almeria’s mouth pinched as she eyed Alice’s dress. After a brusque greeting she pulled Alice aside and said in a low, angry voice, “I don’t want this nobody of yours setting her cap at my son. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly,” Alice said calmly. “If it’s any comfort, Almeria, my goddaughter has no designs on Gerald or any other titled gentleman.”
Almeria made a scornful sound. “You always were a fool, Alice. Just keep her away from him, all right?” She turned away to speak to her other guests.
***
James was restless. He should never have accepted Gerald’s invitation. A family party, as insipid as he had feared. As Thornton had warned him, the company was heavy on hopeful young unmarried misses and their mamas. He knew a few of the other gentlemen, some from the army and one or two acquaintances from school days, but there was nobody he particularly wanted to talk to.
He sipped the wine, which was inferior, made small talk and found he was surprisingly popular—until he realized that for some of these females he was as much a target as Thornton. Married ladies on the hunt for a lover, and unmarried ladies on the hunt for a title.
James had no interest in either. All that was behind him now. He’d had the best with Selina and had no interest in second best.
He was aware that his daughters might need a mother figure, so he’d sent for Nanny McCubbin, who was as motherly a figure as anyone could want. And as the girls grew older, a good governess could provide all the female guidance they would need.
He surreptitiously checked his fob watch. How soon could he make his escape?
He observed the hopeful young misses clustered in groups, following young Thornton with their eyes.
He’d met Thornton’s parents—they’d invited him for dinner before the party—and now he understood why Thornton seemed so restless and unsettled. They treated him like a schoolboy instead of a man who’d commanded troops—damned well, too, keeping a cool head under fire and showing a talent for tactics and strategy.
Musicians began setting up in the other room. Time to leave. He was a good dancer, but he wasn’t in the mood tonight, especially here, with the eyes of ambitious ladies on him.
He drained his glass, set it on a nearby side table and prepared to make a discreet exit. And halted.
