Deborah Simmons - Regency - Courtship And Candlelight

Well, he could see her now and had her firmly in his sights at last. He was his own man now, too, and if not the dashing hero he’d once dreamt of being, he was strong enough to shoulder his responsibilities and even enjoy them most of the time. He’d got his estates running at a healthy profit and restored the depleted fortune managed, or mismanaged, by his various trustees until his majority, so if he could take on all that and succeed, why not have one last, reckless throw at winning the woman he’s always wanted above all others as well?

He grinned at the memory of how he’d managed to confuse Kate recently without even trying; now he was in earnest, keeping her off balance and paying attention long enough to claim her heart and her hand suddenly didn’t seem so unlikely after all.

‘What a brilliant catch Lord Shuttleworth will make some lucky girl, now he’s obviously looking out for a more suitable wife,’ Kate heard one of the chaperons behind her whisper rather loudly to her crony a week or so later and knew perfectly well that she was meant to hear every word. After all, she had refused to marry the lady’s impecunious elder son in no uncertain terms at the end of last Season and that did put a doting mama off a girl rather badly.

It was true, of course, that she’d watched Edmund dance with all the prettiest and most eligible débutantes the Season rejoiced in night after night and could vouch for the fact that, while all seemed to agree he was a very fine gentleman and would make an even finer husband, some were shamelessly eager to march him up the aisle of St George’s, Hanover Square, at the double.

‘Indeed, my dear—he’s so rich, so well born and so handsome that he’s without a doubt the finest catch to be had this Season,’ another lady, who persisted in thinking Kate had deliberately eclipsed her elder daughter’s début, and blamed her for that poor girl having to marry a mere mister with only two large country estates and a town house to his name, asserted. ‘The Tedinton woman seems quite set on cuckolding her poor husband with him, but that won’t bar him from marrying well. My dear little Felicity is too young yet, but your girl hasn’t made enough effort to captivate such an eligible young lord up to now, my dear; you should remind her of her duty to her family.’

‘Darling Charity is quite determined on her Mr Holt and he on her, so Henry will agree to the match in the end, I dare say, and Lord Shuttleworth can marry where he pleases so far as I’m concerned,’ the first lady replied placidly enough, since Mr Holt was commonly held to be a very wealthy man and she was obviously a realist.

‘It’s a well enough match, I suppose, but Shuttleworth would make a very fine feather in any mama’s cap,’ the second said wistfully.

‘Especially Lady Tedinton’s,’ the first lady said with a shrewd and significant nod in the languorous and lovely Countess of Tedinton’s direction.

‘That, my dear, rather depends on whether she’s intent on wearing him on her bonnet or her sleeve,’ her friend replied with heavy significance.

‘Surely not even she would do that, especially during her daughter’s come-out Season when it would be more fitting if he caught the chit rather than the mother?’

‘The girl’s only her stepdaughter, don’t forget, and not ten years younger than the painted hussy her father married in some fit of madness. Tedinton should have known it would end in disaster once he’d made such a ridiculous second marriage.’

‘That woman can’t pull the wool over the ladies’ eyes, even if the gentlemen hang on every word that falls from her painted lips. She’s little more than a strumpet and not a very well-bred one at that.’

‘I pride myself on always being able to read a person’s true nature, despite any shoddy façades they may care to throw up to confuse people. Even Tedinton won’t be able to fool himself her affairs and her low appetites don’t exist for ever, for all that she’s a beauty.’

‘True, but she’s nowhere near as clever as she thinks she is. The woman has risen too high and now thinks she can have whatever, or whomever, she wants. Such arrogance will prove her downfall one fine day and it won’t be a moment too soon for me when she tried to condescend to me last time we crossed each other’s paths.’

‘Well, I doubt she’ll try it twice, my dear, but there’s no mistaking exactly what, or rather whom, she wants right now,’ the other lady replied meaningfully. Lady Tedinton was watching her stepdaughter chatter animatedly with Lord Shuttleworth whilst reclining on a nearby sofa and eyeing him as if she’d like to pounce and never mind how many spectators saw her do it.

‘Her thoughts are written all over her face, for all she thinks we’re too stupid to read them, yet he looks more entranced by the girl. Tedinton would be a fool to turn down such a match on the say-so of a wife who wants Shuttleworth herself. So that match would put the cat among the pigeons, and set others with their eye on him in their place once and for all,’ the first lady said sweetly.

Kate did her best to look serenely unconscious of their spite while she fervently hoped they were wrong. She wasn’t well acquainted with the girl, but she was pretty enough and might be charming as well for all she knew. However, she was clearly no equal match for Edmund Worth. He deserved a woman who wouldn’t bore him before the honeymoon was over and, if he met that lady, Kate supposed she’d have to shrug her shoulders and look about her for that perfect husband a little more diligently than she was doing at the moment.

‘Certain ladies need to realise that it’s never wise to be too finicky and risk coming back Season after Season, don’t you agree, dear?’ the second of her detractors continued relentlessly, with a significant nod in Kate’s direction she pretended not to see.

‘Luckily our darling girls are in no danger of finding out that pert opinions and overweening vanity will almost certainly land them on the shelf for good.’

‘Quite—I never could abide such precocious chits myself,’ her friend agreed while Kate planned their imminent demise in minute and purely theoretical detail, to keep from verbally grinding them under her chariot wheels as her restless temper demanded she must.

‘Our dance,’ pronounced Mr Cromer concisely at just the right moment to stop her leaping to her own defence in a reckless fashion.

‘Indeed,’ Kate replied gratefully, having come to value his sparse conversation over the last weeks, as he began to court Miss Transome in earnest.

Who would have dreamt a few years ago that Amelia Transome and Kate Alstone would ever come to enjoy each other’s company so much, when each had eyed the other during their début and decided they had little in common? Now Kate valued Amelia’s kind heart and generous nature and wondered at herself for not seeing past her chatter and fluttery manner before. And at least Amelia regarded Mr Cromer dancing with Kate as the lesser of two evils, since she couldn’t dance every dance with him herself. In her company at least he wasn’t being giggled over or eyed speculatively by one of the eager newcomers or their husband-hunting mamas, and Kate felt at ease with at least one of her dancing partners, so all three were content. Yet Mr Cromer had a good friend in Lord Shuttleworth and every now and then Kate would glance up and find him standing by the other gentleman’s side and watching her, as unreadable as he was unsmiling while he did so. His lordship hadn’t asked her to dance again and she told herself that she was relieved.

‘Shuttleworth ain’t serious about that chit, y’know?’ Mr Cromer informed her during one of the country dances.