“Now, enough of this nonsense,” Elizabeth heard whispered in her ear. “Do smile and stop pouting.”

“I am not pouting,” Elizabeth replied firmly. “I am upset.”

Her mother shook her head. “Be that as it may, you are not to allow anyone to guess your feelings, do you understand? A lady needs to hide such things away from the rest of the ton, for that is precisely how rumors start.”

Elizabeth gritted her teeth and tried not to let her mother’s words pierce her already heavy heart. “No one knows about Lord Mallon and me, except Miss Hetty Caldwell. There are no rumors to be spoken of.”

Her mother tossed her head, her grey curls bouncing. “I wish you had not told that young lady.”

“She is my friend, Mama, and I am grateful for her,” Elizabeth replied, glad that Hetty had called on her earlier that day. They had gone for a walk together in the park, and in desperate need of someone to talk to, Elizabeth had told the whole story of her engagement to Lord Mallon and his mysterious disappearance to her new friend. It was a sadness she had not yet relayed to her own mother, aware that the countess would most likely discount Lord Mallon’s absence as nothing to be concerned about.

However, Miss Caldwell had been both surprised and delighted, only to then grow sad at Lord Mallon’s strange absence. It had been a relief to tell someone, and Elizabeth knew she could trust Miss Caldwell not to say a word about the engagement to anyone. After all, a young lady knew how important a pristine reputation was to a lady of quality.

“Well, it is done, I suppose,” her mother sighed. “You look as though you are under a thundercloud, my dear. Smile and pretend that all is well.”

Elizabeth stepped into the ballroom and tried to find delight in the swirling dancers and the happy smiles. Unfortunately, she found her spirits fading still further. Lord Mallon had not come to call upon her two afternoons ago, and since then, she had not heard from him or seen him. It was as though he had vanished into the wind, blowing in all directions except her own.

Her heart was sore. Why had he not called? Why had he not responded to her note, which she had sent the day after his missed visit? She had thought that their meeting had gone well, that the kiss he had taken from her was a promise of his affections and consideration for her. So, why then had he disappeared entirely?

His words still ran around her mind, recalling how he had promised to court her until near the Season’s end, asking to propose to her a little sooner than they had both intended. Elizabeth felt a little embarrassed now to realize just how quickly she had agreed, just how overcome she had been. Had her effusions pushed him away? Had she been too overwhelming in revealing the depths of her desire for him?

He had kissed her, long and hard, with such a sweetness in his lips that she had felt herself melt into his arms. Surely, a gentleman could not kiss a lady in such a manner without truly feeling something for her? Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush with color, as she thought about how he had touched her, holding her so tightly and yet with such care. It had been a wonderful surprise to discover that the gentleman she had found impossible to get from her mind was none other than her betrothed. She had believed that he seemed equally as thrilled.

But, mayhap, she had misjudged him. After all, she did not know him particularly well, and therefore, she could not automatically believe that all his words had been spoken with honesty and truth. Mayhap he was more of a rogue than she thought, enjoying the company of ladies and finding his conversations with her to be mysterious and exciting. Now that her identity had been revealed that excitement had faded and he had turned away from her. Perhaps he did not really want to marry after all, or certainly not so hastily.

Giving herself a mental shake, Elizabeth told herself to stop being so silly and to start thinking clearly. Lord Mallon was a man of honor, his father a respectable gentleman. There would be no reason for him to turn away from her now, not when the threat of bringing shame and embarrassment to his family name hung over his head! That was, of course, only pertinent if he cared about holding the family name in high honor. What if he did not? What if his respect for his father had been put on?

Elizabeth wanted to stomp her foot and scream, such was her confusion and frustration. She reasoned that, had he been called away on urgent business, he would have sent her a note informing her as much. He would not have left her alone without any notice of his intentions, surely? But, as yet, nothing had been received. Her heart was sore, grieving over his absence and over the already tainted affection building in her very being. She had thought the man easy to fall in love with, finding his handsome features stirring a passion in her she had never experienced before. And now, he was gone from her side, and she felt herself more than foolish.

“Lady Elizabeth?”

Training her gaze on the gentleman just in front of her, Elizabeth tried her best to put a bright smile on her face. “Ah, Lord Burroughs. How are you this evening?”

Lord Burroughs was a plump, friendly-looking gentleman with whom she had danced on a few occasions. He was standing next to another man she did not recognize, a man who was tall where Lord Burroughs was short, thin where Lord Burroughs was stout.

“Might I do the honor of introducing my friend, Baron Parke,” Lord Burroughs began, with a deep bow. “He has been in London for some time but has not yet made your acquaintance.”

“Lord Parke,” Elizabeth said at once, with a graceful curtsy. “How very good to make your acquaintance now. Pray, where do you hail from?”

Baron Parke cleared his throat as he rose from his bow, his dark eyes coming to rest on her, and Elizabeth felt a slight discomfort in the pit of her belly. He was a little unsettling for whatever reason, regarding her as though he had seen her somewhere before. It was as if she were familiar to him, yet Elizabeth was sure she had never laid eyes on him in her life.

“I have a modest estate,” Lord Parke replied, his eyes still drifting over her. “I am Lord Mallon’s cousin.”

“Lord Mallon?” Elizabeth repeated, her hand on her heart as she stared at the Baron, wide-eyed. Was he here to tell her something terrible about him? Did he know where the man was?”

“Yes, Lord Mallon,” Lord Parke continued, with a slight sniff. “Has he never spoken of me to you?”

Elizabeth shook her head, wondering if Lord Mallon had ever spoken to Baron Parke about her. “I am sorry, but no.”

He shrugged, his expression a little dark. “He has a very good number of things on his mind, and so, I will forgive him for the oversight,” he said without even a hint of a smile.

“I do not mean to be impertinent nor rude,” Elizabeth continued hastily, “But I must ask if you know where Lord Mallon might be? He was due to call upon me two days ago, but he did not appear.”

“Goodness,” Lord Parke murmured, his eyes wide in apparent surprise. “That was rather rude of him. Not that I am surprised, of course. I have been staying with him this last week.”

Elizabeth stared at him, a slow dread beginning to fill her heart. What did he mean? If he truly was Lord Mallon’s cousin, then would he not know the man very well? Especially if he was staying in his home—that spoke of an intimacy between them both.

“Not that he is in London at present,” Lord Parke continued, as though she already was aware of that fact. “Although why he would wish to miss such an evening as this, I cannot understand.” He gave her a small bow and a bright smile. “I cannot help but hope that you have a space remaining on your dance card?”

Struggling to comprehend what had been said, Elizabeth took a moment before lifting her wrist towards him. Baron Parke, whilst tall and rather wiry, was handsome in his own way, although nothing could compare with Lord Mallon. She struggled to think of anything other than Lord Mallon as Baron Parke wrote his name in two of her remaining three spaces, appearing quite delighted with himself.

“I am already looking forward to dancing with you, Lady Elizabeth,” he said, with a warm smile that brought no happiness to Elizabeth’s heart. “Thank you.”

Elizabeth tried to smile, aware that their conversation had come to an end, but finding that she was not quite ready to let Baron Parke go. She had so many questions to ask. There was so much more to try and discover about where Lord Mallon had gone. Confused, she caught a hold of his sleeve as he made to step away, and he came back to her at once, looking both surprised and intrigued.

“I do apologize, Lord Parke, but I must ask where Lord Mallon has gone?”

“Oh,” he said slowly, the smile on his face fading away. “Of that, I am not quite sure. His father returned to his country estate some days before him, and then quite unexpectedly, Mallon informed me that he was to leave London also. I am not sure what his reasons were or where it was he intended to go. It was all rather vague.” He shrugged, as though this were something he expected from Lord Mallon, as though he were the kind of gentleman to go off to wherever he wished to see whomever he wished at any given moment.

Elizabeth was struck with the thought that she really did not know Lord Mallon all that well. All she had to go on was the fact that she had been drawn to him and believed him drawn to her. She had found him polite, amiable, and with good conversation, as well as with a clear respect and dedication to his father. But did she really have a measure of his character? Was the man she saw truly the man he was?

“You appear to be quite disappointed,” Lord Parke murmured with a slight glimmer of interest in his eye. “I am sorry for his disrespect, Lady Elizabeth. It is most disdainful, and I am sure, quite hurtful. How terrible that he should treat you in such a rude manner. Although, again, I am not surprised to hear such a thing. He is not a man I look up to in any way, I assure you. I do hope that you will get over your disappointment very soon.”

Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat, struggling against sudden, fierce tears.

“I know we have not yet danced,” he continued, a little quieter. “But might I be granted permission to call upon you tomorrow? Say, in the afternoon? We could walk in the park.” His smile was warm, his eyes filled with sympathy for her. “I can assure you that I will, of course, keep my engagement with you. I do not take after my cousin.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth heard herself saying, hearing her voice thin and wispy. “Thank you, Lord Parke.”

“Of course,” he said, inclining his head. “I am already looking forward to furthering our acquaintance.”

This time, Elizabeth was relieved when Baron Parke left her side, immediately walking away from the rest of the guests towards a quieter part of the ballroom. Her mind struggled to comprehend what she had heard, her heart tearing as she struggled to maintain her composure. She could not allow herself to cry in front of the rest of the beau monde. She could not allow anyone else to notice her angst. Where had Lord Mallon gone? Why had he not so much as called on her before he had left London?

Her heart sank as she began to wonder whether or not Lord Mallon had truly been as delighted as he had appeared on finding that she was, in fact, his betrothed. Had he kissed her, held her, to make her believe that he truly cared for her, only to run away to some unknown situation the following day? Did he want to marry her, as he had said, or was this now an attempt to avoid their matrimony until such a time as he chose to give up his other, more roguish ways?

Sniffing as delicately as she could, Elizabeth held her shoulders back, lifted her chin, and tried her best to remain calm and collected. There would be time later for her tears. For the moment, she simply had to dance.