Thank God he’d been tossed out of that world and forced to live among normal people, to make something of himself through hard work and dedication.
He curled one hand into a fist. Lady Louise had been lovely when he’d met her. She didn’t deserve to be treated like a milch cow. And the fact that both men would chase after money with such single-mindedness just went to show that Marcus and his former friends had completely drifted apart.
“Do you suppose either woman would mind being left alone in the country while I run off to London for a bit of amusement?” Victor asked.
“I can’t imagine why you’d concern yourself with that,” Nigel said. “She’ll be your wife and as such she’ll have to heed your wishes.”
Marcus gritted his teeth.
“That being said,” Nigel added, “ensuring your wife’s happiness can only benefit you in the long run. If I do keep my mistress, I’ll do so discreetly.”
“Of course. But some women won’t even let a man carouse with his friends, never mind entertain his lovers. I merely wonder if you believe Lady Deidre or Lady Louise might—”
“Hush, Victor. Here comes Lady Louise.”
Marcus sucked in a breath. He released it slowly and silently chastised himself for his silliness. Why should he care if Lady Louise was approaching? He didn’t, though he could not deny wishing she’d give Nigel and Victor a cutting remark, if only for the fun of it.
Of course she wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a brief dream of how the next minutes would play out.
And then she was suddenly there, more radiant than Marcus recalled. To be sure, the only other time he’d seen her the lighting had been dim. Now, amidst the glow from the wall sconces and chandeliers, she looked divine.
“Mr. Fairbanks,” she said, her voice so soft Marcus struggled to hear. “Mr. Newdale. It’s...um...good to see you both again.”
Marcus cringed on Lady Louise’s behalf. The poor woman was clearly nervous. If her uncertain tone wasn’t proof enough, her flushed cheeks and fidgety hands were.
“Likewise,” Victor said while Nigel nodded. Smiles were added – the most disingenuous ones Marcus had ever seen. He winced and shook his head.
A much too long silence followed, during which all three simply stared at each other as if unsure of what to say next. It was awkward in the extreme, until a new piece of music started and Nigel said, “If you’ll excuse me. I must collect my partner for the next set.” He cast a glance at Victor, who now appeared to be grinning, and promptly frowned. “Perhaps we can speak at greater length later, my lady?”
“Oh.” Lady Louise’s eyes brightened. “I’d like that very much.”
Nigel beamed at her in that blinding way of his. It always made people think he was built from rainbows and fluffy white clouds. Appearances, Marcus had long since discovered, were one thing. Reality quite another. Nigel, like so many members of the ton, had an agenda which required he look the part, act the part, and never forget the game he played.
He reached for Lady Louise’s hand and raised it to his lips. Noting her breathless response, Marcus desperately wanted to step out from behind the screen and punch the fellow for his playacting. The thoughtless man was toying with Lady Louise’s heart, and he didn’t seem to care one whit.
“Until we meet again,” Nigel said. He released her hand, gave Victor a stiff nod as if to confirm their wager was underway, and casually strolled off while straightening his sleeves.
“Now that we’ve seen him off,” Victor said with a hint of humor, “I wonder if I might convince you to partner with me for the next set.”
“Ah…”
Lady Louise could not have looked more shocked.
“I know I’m not half as handsome as Mr. Fairbanks, but I can assure you I’m in possession of superior conversational skills.”
He wasn’t wrong, Marcus conceded. During their time at school, Victor had always been the one to talk them all out of trouble.
“Um… Thank you, Mr. Newdale. I would…”
Marcus watched as Lady Louise’s expression changed. Desperation captured her features, forcing lines to crisscross her brow and bracket her mouth. Concern for her wellbeing filled him. Something wasn’t right.
Victor must have realized the same. “What is it?”
She glanced around. “Oh God. Not now. Not again.”
“Are you all right?” Victor asked, studying her with apprehensive concern.
“I can’t see. I just… It’s all one big blur.”
“I’ll fetch your parents,” Victor said. “Stay here.” He strode off without glancing back, without first ensuring that Lady Louise was left in a spot where she would feel safe.
“Wait. Please.”
The angst in her voice prompted Marcus to act. Lady Louise was terrified, and justifiably so. Which meant that Grasmere’s demands could go hang for all he cared. He’d be damned if he was going to stand idly by while Lady Louise suffered for one more second.
3
Louise’s heart hammered with frantic beats. She hated this - hated not knowing when the attempt to fix her sight would fail once more and hated the crippling lack of control she experienced when it did. Of course, she wouldn’t be this bad off if she’d spoken up when she’d lost her sight in the right eye again. But the mere thought of what would be done to her if she did had been enough to keep her from doing so. Now, like at the musicale three years earlier, she was more or less blind, and with an awful operation looming upon the horizon.
She took a deep breath, tried to steady her nerves so she wouldn’t panic. Unraveling at a ball and making a spectacle of herself wouldn’t help her marital prospects. And what would Mr. Fairbanks think if he witnessed her making a fool of herself a second time?
Oh God. She could just imagine how thrilled Lady Deidre would be if she learned what had happened.
Instead of settling into a steadier rhythm, Louise’s heart skipped into a gallop. She gasped for air as cacophonous laughter and music closed in around her, overwhelming her senses. Her lungs burned until tears stung her eyes.
Why did this have to keep happening?
She glanced around, desperately seeking a point of reference, an anchor for her to hold onto until Mr. Newdale returned with her parents. But all the lights, the reflections from the mirrored walls, and the people moving about collided to form a smear of indistinguishable shapes that made this effort impossible. She took one step to the right, toward the wall she knew must be there. Her hand reached out, seeking the solid surface. She took another small step. If memory served, it wasn’t more than a yard away.
“Lady Louise,” a familiar voice murmured. “Allow me to help.”
Before she could speak, her arm was caught in a steady grasp by the man she’d met on the terrace at Redding House one week earlier.
“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she told him even as relief swept through her.
“For good reason, though I think you might wish to make exception, given the situation.” He paused for a second, as if to gauge her reaction, then added, “If you’ll permit, I’d like to take you to a quiet sitting room where you can wait for further assistance in private.”