Mellie knitted her fingers together. “We just came upon each other by chance while walking along the shore. Nanny was with me.”
Mama raised her eyebrows. “Where is Nanny?”
Mellie glanced uneasily at Nanny’s closed door. “She has taken feverfew for a headache and is lying down.”
Vivian selected an apple from the bowl and bit into it. “Why did Katherine choose old Gordon? I saw Viscount Felsted once, promenading in the park with Katherine when I was out with my governess. He was much younger than Gordon and far more attractive.”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full, Vivian. And you shouldn’t eat so close to supper.” Mama sighed. “I do wish you wouldn’t call himoldGordon.”
“But he is old.” Phillip spun on the piano stool. “And stuffy. But he has money. A man needs blunt to marry. Perhaps Harrington didn’t have any.”
“That is coarse and exceedingly callous of you, Phillip,” Mama said crisply. “And Gordon is only thirty-five.”
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Vivian said. “My friends all say they want to marry a wealthy lord.”
“And the fellows at school intend to marry beautiful women.” Phillip sighed theatrically. “It is a mercenary world.”
Mama rose from her chair. “I’ve had quite enough. Ready yourselves for supper. I must write to the dowager duchess and offer my condolences. It is very sad.” She followed Mellie into her bedchamber. “I do hope it’s not your intention to set your cap at Chandos. Not that I wouldn’t be delighted to have such a noble family connected with ours, but he is a known recluse, determined never to marry. And now with the loss of his brother, perhaps even more so. Life would be frightfully dreary for a bright girl like you. You would be shut up at his estate, Haverstock Hall in Devon, and rarely come up to London. Not that he’s likely to propose to you, of course.”
With a gasp of dismay, Mama discovered Rosie tucked amid the pillows curled up in a ball. “Not another cat, Mellie!”
“The kitten was starving, Mama, I just couldn’t leave her. The cook gave Rosie some milk and a little meat.”
Her mother shook her head and sighed. “In any event,” she continued, ignoring the kitten, “your father has his heart set on you marrying Alfred Pallthorpe. The Pallthorpe lands run with ours. We expect an engagement before the Season ends.”
“But Mama, I don’t like him. The way he squeezes my hand.”
“What? He is cruel to you?”
“No,” Mellie said hastily, unwilling to upset her mother. “But I suspect he could be.”
“You’re being fanciful, Mellie. The Pallthorpe estate has shared a border with the Abbersley’s since the year dot. Why, the old baron and your grandfather were friends. There’s been no suggestion of violence in that family. He is a good-looking young gentleman with excellent manners. Once you get to know him, you’ll feel differently. Marriage is always uncertain at first until you become familiar with each other.”
“Was it like that for you, too, Mama?” Her parents had been an arranged marriage, but they loved each other, although her mother obeyed her father in all things. Mellie considered that old-fashioned. She intended to have a voice in her marriage and her opinion respected.
“At first,” Mama admitted, surprising Mellie. “I shall talk more to you about marriage once you are engaged. I do want you to be happy, dear child. Now we must finish our packing for London. We leave at first light tomorrow, as Phillip must return to Eton and you have fittings with the modiste.”
She left Mellie alone in the bedchamber, excited at the prospect of her first ball but dreading seeing Lord Pallthorpe again. He constantly licked his lips and stared at her as if she were some kind of food he wished to eat.
Would the duke attend it? Katherine must send her some of the face cream she swore by that faded freckles. Her sister had the most perfect skin, and Mellie intended to be simply devastating in case he was there.
Chapter Two
Mayfair, London
July 1818
“Despite thetondeserting the baking London streets, the Fullerton ball is always packed,” Jeremy, Viscount Creighton, remarked to Gene as he dodged a woman with waving ostrich feathers on her cap. “You could take an eye out with that,” Jeremy observed when out of earshot.
They moved deeper into the ballroom, crammed with elegant, well-dressed guests. “You will note we have a new crop of debutantes this Season,” Jeremy said helpfully. “Like nervous bunnies, some of them, sitting with their eagle-eyed chaperones, and others, well, that come-hither look should be a warning to a man.” He turned to Gene. “We didn’t expect to see you in London. Might you have marriage on your mind? The girl dressed in white muslin with a circlet of roses in her hair is pretty.”
“There are a dozen such females here tonight.” Gene glanced over in the direction Jeremy had discreetly indicated with a nod of his head. Sure enough, debutantes in their white muslin gowns perched on chairs and benches arranged along the walls, some holding their gloved hands demurely in their lap, others boldly searching the crowd. “Which?”
“The one with the pink sash.”
Lady Mellicent. Gene’s heart began its foolish drumming. He thought he’d put all that behind him months ago, but no, his eyes drank her in like a man dying of thirst. Her breasts were displayed to advantage in the pastel pink, low-cut gown. She waved her fan before her face while talking to another young woman. Mellicent was unquestionably pretty. He had not forgotten that fact. He must ignore the temptation to ask her to dance. If he held her in his arms, he would give himself away. He could visualize the dowagers holding up their pince-nez for a better look.
Every Season, his practice had been to choose a debutant for one dance. As his Aunt Philomena pointed out, his interest increased a young woman’s popularity. Should he choose Lady Mellicent? Her liveliness was difficult to resist. But one dance could lead to two, for how could he stop at one? And she would be as unsuitable as his wife, as he would her husband. He would not hurt her for the world. Not that he intended to find a bride this year, which he now explained to Jeremy.