Susan had never been described as a rose—or any flower at all, for that matter. She had been referred to as a thorn in one’s side, which was about as botanical as any description of her had ever been.
Foster, Lady Walmsley’s aged butler, opened the door to James. “Thank you, Foster. Good evening, ladies!” James said as he entered, removing his hat and bowing elegantly to them. “You are a vision to behold.”
“That’s the lawyer in him, I’ll wager,” Lady Walmsley whispered to Susan. “Very intelligent, with the ability to stretch the truth believably.”
Susan laughed.
“Foster!” Lady Walmsley exclaimed. The butler had moved away from the door and was now attempting to place a heavy shawl about Lady Walmsley’s shoulders, but Lady Walmsley was having none of it. “You are forever trying to get me to wear a woolen shawl at night. I specifically told you I wanted the lace shawl. We’ve had this conversation endless times before. I shall not be taking a chill this evening; I can assure you.”
“There are clouds accumulating overhead this evening,” Foster replied. “I am only looking out for your continued good health, my lady.”
Lady Walmsley paused. “Clouds, you say? Very well, I shall use the woolen shawl.”
Lady Walmsley’s reaction surprised Susan. From what Susan had seen thus far, the older lady wasn’t the type to back down swiftly. She and Susan were the same in that regard. Perhaps Lady Walmsley respected Foster’s opinion more than she liked to let on.
Woolen shawl now firmly in place, a satisfied-looking Foster backed away, and James offered an arm to each lady.
“I’m doubly blessed this evening,” James said.
“Such a charmer, you are,” Lady Walmsley said, patting his arm. “I wonder that some young beauty hasn’t snatched you up already, Mr. Jennings.”
“I attribute it to well-developed survival skills, my lady,” James replied.
Lady Walmsley cackled. That was the only word Susan could use to describe it, she thought, smiling to herself. She might possibly get through the evening if she had Lady Walmsley and James to keep her company. In fact, she was feeling an air of excitement she’d not felt for some time now—dressing in one’s finest and listening to excellent music and watching elegant couples dance together might be rather agreeable. She’d been absent from Society long enough that she assumed she’d be able to sit with the other spinsters and watch the proceedings unobserved; that would be her preference.
There may be a few of her former acquaintances in attendance whom she’d prefer not to see this evening; it was bound to be inevitable that such would occur, of course. But surely, after the passing of so many years—ten, to be precise—old wounds would be forgotten, and bygones could be bygones. It was optimistic on Susan’s part, although she really didn’t put much stock in it. She knew from experience what Society could be like.
***
“Aylesham! I’m so delighted you chose to join us this evening,” Lady Bledsoe said to George when he arrived at her home. She took his hands in hers and air-kissed both his cheeks. “And how handsome you look! Does he not look handsome, Bledsoe?”
George and Lord Bledsoe exchanged a droll look between them. “A veritable sight to behold,” Lord Bledsoe replied dryly.
“I did my best to be presentable,” George said.
“Ah, but it seems like only yesterday when your dear mama and I enjoyed our first Season,” Lady Bledsoe said. It was the beginning of a reminiscence George had heard countless times over the years. It ought to annoy him, but Lady Bledsoe had cherished her friendship with his mother, so he was inclined to let her have her say. “She was the darling of the ton, you know,” she continued. “Beautiful, clever—but not one to put on airs.”
“So you have said,” George said.
“I wish you had known her, Aylesham. She was a dear girl, and I miss her every day, as you must surely miss her. But I shan’t dwell on that, for we are gathered to enjoy ourselves and mingle with our friends and acquaintances and, hopefully, dance.” She looked at him with intent in her eye.
“I shall do as you bid, Lady Bledsoe. I shall mingle, listen to the music, and partake of the refreshments and dance a time or two.” Blast, but he still tired too easily these days. The whole business of convalescence was annoying.
“That is all I ask,” she said. She stepped closer to him while Bledsoe greeted the next guests to arrive and grasped his hand in both of hers. George’s back stiffened reactively. “There is more of your mama in you than merely your eye and hair color, Aylesham,” she said softly. “I wish I could explain to you what that means. I hope you reflect on the stories you have heard about her to discover this for yourself. I believe it may bring you the happiness you seek. She would want you to be happy.”
“What do you know of my happiness or lack thereof?” George asked with a slight edge to his tone.
She dropped his hand and stepped back. “I speak out of turn, I know, and for that, I apologize. Enjoy yourself this evening.” She smiled at him and then turned to greet her next guests, the Earl of Iverson and Lady Iverson, who were currently speaking at length with Lord Bledsoe.
George strode into the ballroom, working to quell the vexation he’d felt at her words. How dare she? How dare she judge the state of his life as though she had any right to do so? Looking for happiness was a fool’s errand. And how dare she intimate that his mother—the mother he’d never known, except from what few stories had been told to him on the rarest of occasions—was the key to unlock this missing happiness? It was foolishness.
Whatever good mood he’d had when entering Bledsoe House—if there’d been a good mood—had entirely fled now. But he had told Lady Bledsoe he would dance once or twice and listen to the music and eat refreshments.
Well, he would listen to the music, he thought as he stalked into the ballroom with his trained expression that told those around him to keep their distance. The musicians were bound to be of finer quality than those at many London balls because Lady Bledsoe was a stickler when it came to music. And he would eat refreshments because why ever not? And he would find the two least annoying ladies he could to dance with this evening. Then he would leave, having fulfilled his word to Lady Bledsoe.
He would return home to peace, solitude, and—
He didn’t allow himself to finish the thought as he made his way through the crush of people already in attendance.
Chapter 4
Susan had never been the type of person to be overly concerned with people’s opinions of her, but being at her first London ball after having been absent for so many years gave her trepidation, if she were to be entirely honest with herself. She was also more tired than she’d been willing to let on to Lady Walmsley. Lady Walmsley had seemed disappointed by Rebecca’s absence but had been keen, nonetheless, to shift her attention to Susan. Susan hadn’t been willing to disappoint the lady further.