Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

‘Then maybe I will. But what do you think about taking Miss Cartwright to the ball?’

‘I do not see how you can. Lady Brandon and Lady Gilford called on me this morning to bring me an invitation and they were arguing about whether Miss Cartwright should be invited. Lady Brandon said she ought not to be left out, considering how influential she is, but Lady Gilford was very top lofty and said it was her ball and she could invite whom she pleased and if she did not choose to invite that daughter of a mushroom who thought she was a man, then she would not. The gathering would be very select.’ She gave a little chuckle. ‘Lady Brandon was silenced by that, probably thinking her own invitation might be in doubt if she made more of it.’

‘Poor Charlotte.’

She looked at him sharply at his use of Miss Cartwright’s given name, but decided not to comment. ‘You could take Martha Brandon.’

‘I could, but I won’t. Lady Brandon is pushing the poor girl at me and Miss Brandon herself is against it.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘She told me so when we were dancing together at her mama’s soirée. She has her heart set on Mr Martin Elliott, but he is slow in coming forwards. She said she was only dancing with me to make him jealous.’

‘What a strange conversation for a well-bred young lady to have with an unmarried man.’

‘At least she is honest and I can admire her for it, but I do not wish to be used in that fashion. It is not fair on the young man for a start. I shall escort you.’ He laughed. ‘At least I shall be safe with you.’

‘Roland, I am still in mourning.’

‘You can still come, you do not have to dance or be gay, though I wish you would. It does not do to be always in the suds.’

‘How can I be in the suds when you are home again and I have work to do making the Hall habitable again? How could I not be joyful?’

‘Will you come with me? You can defend me from the mamas.’

‘You are perfectly capable of doing that yourself, Roland. And I will not cause more gossip for this family by flouting the rules of society. You may tell me all about it when you come back.’ And from that decision she would not be moved.

* * *

Charlotte heard all about the ball—Lady Brandon could not keep quiet about it, pretending she did not know Charlotte had not been invited. Charlotte herself realised very soon that she would not be among the guests and pretended she could not go on account of a prior engagement. Neither was deceived by the other. It left Charlotte wondering what the prior engagement could possibly be. And then it came to her; she would organise her own celebration on the same night. But not a ball, because everyone would be going to the Gilfords’. In any case, she did not think the haut monde would come to anything she arranged.

A party for her workers, that was it! She would invite every employee, high and low, to a grand occasion at the mill and make it a night to remember. The idea had the added attraction of proving to the Earl of Amerleigh that she treated her workers well and that they were all loyal to her. No expense would be spared. Food and drink would be the main expense; poor people were always hungry. There would be music and decorations, flags and flowers. And a brass band! If, led by the band and flags flying, they paraded through the streets of Amerleigh and Scofield, before entering the mill for the party, it would make a great deal of noise and drown out the oh-so-genteel orchestra playing at Gilford House. And fireworks. According to Lady Brandon, there were to be fireworks as a grand finale to the ball—then her fireworks would better, more noisy, more colourful. She would not be cowed and made to feel inferior, and set about the arrangements with a smile on her lips and a spring in her step.

* * *

Lord and Lady Gilford lived in a large mansion on the road between Amerleigh and Scofield, surrounded by a park and mixed woodland. The main part of the house was a hundred years old, but it had been added to in recent years and the whole of the inside refurbished and refurnished. Apart from the Temples, who ceased to count when the late Earl removed to the dower house, they were the haut monde of the area and an invitation to an occasion at their home was prized by local society. Lady Gilford had taken great pains with all the arrangements, the food and wine and music, only to find there was a shortage of fireworks. The supplier, who had a workshop in Shrewsbury, told her almost his entire stock had been bought up by another customer whom he declined to name. Her ladyship purchased what was left, hoping that her guests would be so mellow with food and drink by the end of the evening, they would not notice the Grand Finale was less than grand.

Roland, dressed in impeccable good taste, in a black evening coat, black trousers and a pristine white shirt, arrived only a few minutes late and was greeted warmly by Lady Gilford, who attached herself to him and took him round to make sure he knew everyone. When that was done, she invited him to join her party, which consisted of herself and her husband, her son, the lieutenant of the invitation; her daughter, Eleanor; and an elderly aunt. Eleanor was about eighteen, as plump as her mother was thin, with pale blonde hair, carefully dressed to make it look thicker than it really was. She was also painfully shy, which was obviously a source of irritation to her mother. Roland smiled at her and offered the usual politeness before marking her card for two country dances, which made the poor girl’s cheeks turn bright pink.

After the first of these, she left him to dance with young Leonard Manton and Roland sat down to talk to Lieutenant Gilford, enquiring about his service. ‘How did you manage to arrive home so quickly?’ he asked him.

‘I was in Lisbon with the Commissariat when the news came through and hopped on the first ship out. I saw no point in hanging about and Papa made it right with the Colonel.’

His mother, who had been busying herself with her guests, returned to them. ‘My goodness, we cannot have two handsome young men sitting together and not dancing. Thomas, go and ask Miss Manton to stand up with you. As for you, my lord, I am sure I can find you a partner.’

‘Thank you, my lady,’ he said, with a smile. ‘I think I can manage.’ He left her and went to ask Martha Brandon to dance, realising as he did so that he was probably playing right into her hands, because he saw Martin Elliott scowling at him. After that, he found himself standing up with several other young ladies and then with Miss Gilford again. He escorted her into supper, much to the chagrin of Lady Brandon. He was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable, though not for a moment did his polite smile leave his face. Returning from supper, he stationed himself in an alcove to watch the dancers and found himself unaccountably wishing Miss Cartwright were present. He had enjoyed that waltz with her and the discovery that she was truly beautiful. If she were here, he might enjoy it more. The admission, if only to himself, surprised him.

‘It must seem strange. Being home again, I mean.’

He turned to find Lord Gilford standing beside him. He had been a sea-faring man, which was evidenced by his weatherbeaten complexion and his way of standing with his feet braced apart as if still on the deck of a ship. ‘Yes, it is a little.’

‘Coming about, are you?’

He was annoyed at the impertinence of the question, but too polite to show it. ‘I believe so.’

‘Glad to hear it. Not married, though?’

‘No time for it.’

‘But thinking of it? After all, a single man with a title and a great estate must look for a wife at some point.’

‘That goes without saying, but at the moment I am not contemplating marriage.’