Chapter Four
Stacey returned to the ballroom. She looked for her father and found him dancing with Lady Cadwalader. He was saying something that was making her laugh. Stacey shook her head in disgust. He was good at putting on a show. No one knew what he was really like. No one but her, her mother, and, to a lesser extent, the servants.
Swallowing the bile back down her throat, she went to the only safe place she could. She returned to the ladies who were currently in Ladies of Grace. Although Iris was here, she couldn’t talk to her. Her father might be willing to let her talk to Iris after everything with Lady Eloise came to an end, but right now, he would never approve. So she went back to Miss Webb and Miss Wilmington. By now, Miss Duff and Lady Gareth had joined them.
“Certainly, it can’t be that bad,” Lady Gareth said.
“It is,” Miss Webb replied. “We all need to find a different group to belong to.”
“But what other group is there that can match Ladies of Grace’s influence?” Lady Gareth asked.
Miss Wilmington smirked. “It’s certainly not Enduring Friendships. I don’t care if Lady Worsley is in it. Lady Erandon and the Duchess of Lambeth are in it, too. Those two don’t know the first thing about making themselves look good to the Ton. If they did, they never would have let Lady Steinbeck into the group.”
Lady Gareth glanced away from them. Stacey wasn’t the only one who secretly met with Iris. Stacey had never visited Iris at the same time Lady Gareth had, but she had once arrived at Iris’ residence as Lady Gareth was leaving. The two instantly knew the other’s secret, and both had agreed not to mention it to anyone.
“We have to do something,” Miss Webb said. “We can’t stand around and let our reputations be ruined along with Lady Eloise’s.”
“What can we do?” Miss Wilmington asked, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor. “We can’t join Enduring Friendships. That group will never amount to anything.”
Stacey didn’t think they had any options. The group was quickly crumbling around them, and there was nothing any of them could do to stop it.
“Do we even need a group?” Miss Duff asked. “Maybe we can manage fine on our own.”
Miss Wilmington snorted. “Of course, we need a group. London is a large place with lots of influential people. We run the risk of fading into obscurity if we don’t do something. Just because Lady Eloise is being ruined, it doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.” She bit her lower lip. “We need a plan, and we need one fast. The longer we wait to do something, the harder it’ll be for us to bounce back from this disaster.”
“We need prominent connections,” Miss Webb said. “We need people who are of the same caliber as Lady Cadwalader.”
Miss Wilmington’s eyes lit up. “That’s it! If we can secure someone who’s related to Lady Cadwalader into the group, that could help bring us back to where we were before this whole catastrophe with Lady Youngtown occurred. Then we don’t need to start a new group. We could continue on with Ladies of Grace. And we’ll force Lady Eloise to leave. That way, we don’t have to start all over again.”
“Lady Cadwalader doesn’t have any relatives our age,” Lady Gareth pointed out.
“She doesn’t have any female relatives our age,” Miss Webb said. “She does have a male relative who’s twenty-six. And he’s a bachelor.”
Miss Wilmington smiled. “Splendid! I love the way you think. So,” she glanced around the group, “which one of us will marry him?”
“It’s hard to commit to marriage if the rest of us don’t even know who he is,” Miss Duff said.
“He’s Sir Tristan Blakemoor,” Miss Webb told her. “He’s a Baronet.”
Miss Duff frowned. “But that means he’s not in the peerage. Lady Eloise didn’t want me to marry Lord Powell because he was a viscount. At least Lord Powell was in the peerage.”
“This particular marriage isn’t about titles,” Miss Wilmington said. “It’s about being a part of Lady Cadwalader’s family. Sir Tristan Blakemoor is one of her nephews. The family connection is a strong one, and it’ll give us an advantage we don’t have right now.” She scanned the others. All but Lady Gareth were still single and able to marry. “Who will marry him?”
“I loved Lord Powell, but he’s now betrothed to someone else,” Miss Duff replied when Miss Wilmington’s gaze fell to her.
Stacey winced at the bitterness in Miss Duff’s tone. Miss Duff had given up everything for the sake of the group. It was no wonder she felt betrayed by the turn of events. Who could have predicted that Lady Eloise would suffer this kind of disgrace?
Miss Wilmington glanced at Stacey.
Stacey shook her head. “I can’t. I already have an impending proposal coming from Lord Whitney.”
“When did this happen?” Miss Wilmington asked in surprise.
“This evening after my father asked to speak with me,” Stacey replied.
“Oh, so your father is arranging a marriage for you,” Miss Wilmington said. “I suppose that’s to be expected in light of everything that’s going on. He wants to secure a suitable marriage for you before Lady Eloise destroys the group.”
“She won’t destroy the group,” Miss Webb interrupted. “We won’t let her. I’ll marry Sir Tristan Blakemoor. That will help get things settled down while we regain the group’s good standing.”
“Good,” Miss Wilmington replied. “I’ll find a duke. You can’t get higher in the peerage than that.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” Miss Duff asked.
Miss Wilmington chuckled. “Does it matter?” When Miss Duff blinked at her condescending tone, she added, “No, I don’t have anyone in mind, but I assure you that I will find a duke. I’ll find one with a lot of money and respectability in the Ton. I think I’ll start with Lord Cadwalader’s acquaintances. He might have connections with a duke who’s worth marrying.”
“If you can’t find a duke Lord Cadwalader knows, then finding anyone of high social prominence will be just as good,” Miss Webb said.
“I’ll start looking into who has reputations equal to Lady Cadwalader and see if there are any good prospects,” Miss Wilmington replied. Then she looked at Miss Duff. “You will note that I’m willing to marry whoever I need to in order to save this group. I expect the same from you. Love matches aren’t as important as you think they are.”
Stacey resisted the urge to argue. Having spent her entire life with her father and mother, she’d learned that a love match was very important. But she didn’t dare point this out. Miss Wilmington wasn’t as bad as Lady Eloise, but she had a certain air of superiority around her when she spoke. If anyone could save the group’s reputation, she was the one who could do it.
Miss Wilmington straightened her back. “I’m going to meet some new people this evening. It’s possible I’ll come across the perfect duke.”
“I’ll see if Sir Tristan Blakemoore is here this evening,” Miss Webb said.
The two headed into the heart of the crowded ballroom, leaving Stacey with Miss Duff and Lady Gareth.
Miss Duff crossed her arms. “How do you like that? After I rejected Lord Powell, Lady Eloise becomes useless to the group. I wouldn’t have even joined if my mother hadn’t been so insistent on it.”
“Most of us in the group had to do things we didn’t want in order to stay in Lady Eloise’s good graces,” Lady Gareth said. “My husband couldn’t do business with some gentlemen unless they had connections with her father. If it weren’t for our financial setbacks, I wouldn’t have had to stay in this group.”
“I didn’t know that,” Stacey replied.
“When I first joined, Lady Eloise’s father led us to some good business ventures that helped my husband get out of debt. It’s just that over the past year, my husband hasn’t been able to gain much advantage. Securing a dinner party invitation with her father is such a rare thing. My husband had to look for other gentlemen. He keeps hoping that if I stay in the group and play the part of the dutiful member that he’ll get another invite to see her father. That’s not going to happen now.”
“Well,” Miss Duff began, “it’s clear to me that whatever Lady Eloise wants, her father provides for her. She’s never had to give up anything like the rest of us have.”
“It doesn’t sound like she’ll be able to yield that kind of power anymore,” Stacey replied. “Between what she did to Lady Youngtown and her betrothal to a gentleman without a title, I don’t think she will get everything she wants.”
“Which is why I made a horrible mistake in denying Lord Powell when he asked to be my suitor.” Miss Duff’s eyes filled up with tears. “I know this sounds cruel, but I hope Lady Eloise suffers greatly for all the things she’s done to stop others from being happy.” Wiping her tears, she stormed off and quickly disappeared into the crowded room.
Stacey couldn’t blame Miss Duff for being upset. If Stacey had been in the position to obtain a love match but had been talked out of it, she would be angry, too. Love matches didn’t happen often in London. There was no love between her parents. Marriages without love were so cold. Without meaning to, she shivered.
“Do you think it’ll be all right to publicly admit our friendship with Lady Steinbeck since Lady Eloise isn’t a viable part of the group?” Lady Gareth whispered.
Surprised Lady Gareth should bring Iris up, Stacey turned to her. “I don’t know. I think Miss Wilmington and Miss Webb will be leading things now. They might even be able to turn things around. I don’t know what Miss Webb thinks of Lady Steinbeck, but Miss Wilmington despises her.”
Lady Gareth sighed. “You’re right. They would never let us be friends with her. Not publicly, anyway. I wish my husband would befriend Lord Steinbeck. Lord Steinbeck manages very well financially. The only reason he refuses to do so is because of Lady Eloise. If we could have invited Lady Steinbeck into the group, he and I would be much better off right now.”
“Lady Steinbeck’s a part of Enduring Friendships. She’s friends with all of the ladies in that group. She would never have joined this one, even if Lady Eloise had invited her.”
“I’m afraid you’re right.” She paused and scanned the people in the room.
Stacey followed her gaze. She had no idea who Lady Gareth was looking for. Up to now, they hadn’t spoken more than the standard pleasantries to each other. They had avoided any meaningful conversations. Actually, Stacey couldn’t remember a time when she’d had any meaningful conversations with anyone. Doing so required far too much vulnerability.
“How well do you know Lady Steinbeck?” Stacey asked.
“We only talk once a month. It’s all I dared to do in case Lady Eloise discovered what I was doing.”
Stacey had limited her times with Iris to a few times a year. She wished fear wasn’t such a stronghold in her life. She wished she was free to be the person she wanted to be. She wished she had the courage to make her own decisions and stick by them. Lady Gareth might be wishing the same thing, but she didn’t dare ask in case Lady Gareth thought she was pathetic.
“I suppose there’s no harm in talking to Lady Steinbeck about joining Enduring Friendships,” Lady Gareth said. “The worst that can happen is I’m not allowed to join. I don’t see what my husband has to lose at this point.”
Lady Gareth started to leave, and on impulse, Stacey called out, “Good luck.”
Lady Gareth glanced back at her and smiled.
Once word got out that Lady Gareth asked to join Enduring Friendships, Miss Wilmington and Miss Webb would never let her come back to Ladies of Grace. Stacey hoped Lady Gareth would be able to join Enduring Friendships, and she hoped it would be a financially good move for Lady Gareth’s husband.
Stacey, however, was stuck. Her father would never allow her to join that group because the ladies weren’t important enough. But then, if Lord Whitney followed through with his plan, if he did manage to get her out from under her father’s thumb, she and her mother could be free from him…and Ladies of Grace.
Even though a full half hour hadn’t passed since she had returned to the ballroom, she went to the front of the room to wait for Lord Whitney. As much as she wanted to fade into the background because of her father’s bad mood, she had to be noticeable enough for Lord Whitney to find her.
While she was waiting, she took a good look at everyone. Most of them were smiling and laughing. Were they genuinely happy, or were they just putting on a show? She’d learned to act as if she was enjoying herself when she really wasn’t. Did these people learn the same skill?
There were a couple who seemed as if they wished they were somewhere else, but those were harder to spot. Perhaps they were the only honest people in the entire room.
“May I have this dance?” someone asked.
Unaware someone had come up to her, she turned her attention to Lord Whitney. She relaxed. Good. He had done as he’d said he’d do. He was here to dance with her. That was a good sign. It meant he just might be a gentleman who kept his word. So much of her and her mother’s futures depended on him fulfilling his word.
With a smile, she accepted Lord Whitney’s arm and let him take her to the dance floor. She didn’t see her father anywhere, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching her.
“I know I was waiting for you earlier than we planned,” she said.
“It worked to my advantage,” he replied. “My friends assumed you were anxious to dance with me. You did me a favor without realizing it.”
That was good. The more she could help him, the more he might be willing to help her.
The music started, and he led her into the first step. After the first two minutes, she realized she didn’t know what to do. Yes, she should smile, make eye contact, and follow Lord Whitney’s lead. And she did those things. But it seemed that she should say something. This particular dance lasted almost a half hour. It would have been an ideal time to get in some conversation, but her mind kept coming up blank.
Usually, she relied on the gentleman to provide the topic. Her style had been to simply respond to whatever he wished to discuss. Lord Whitney, however, chose not to say anything. And that made things awkward for her. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as if he was having an equally difficult time coming up with something to talk about. If her father was watching, he would never believe Lord Whitney was interested in her enough to ask for her hand in marriage. So she had to come up with something, and the sooner she did that, the better.
Finally, she blurted out, “What kinds of things do you enjoy?”
His eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected the question.
“We should probably talk,” she explained. “So that my father believes we’re having a good time.”
“You make a good point. I just don’t have anything interesting to say.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps you could tell me what you enjoy.”
That was odd. Every gentleman she’d talked to had had no problem rambling on and on about things he liked. Most of the time, it was difficult to get a gentleman to shut up.
After a moment, she said, “Um… I haven’t thought about it. I don’t know what I enjoy.”
His eyes grew wide. “You don’t?”
She shook her head. She’d been too busy doing what her father wanted her to do.
“In that case,” Lord Whitney began, “I suppose I can tell you what I enjoy, but I should warn you that it will probably bore you.”
“It doesn’t have to be a fascinating conversation. We just need to make others believe it is.”
“All right, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She didn’t know why his comment should amuse her, but she felt a smile tug at her lips. “No, I can’t. I promise I won’t fall asleep.”
“I should hope not. It would definitely look bad if I had to carry you off the dance floor because I put you to sleep.”
She laughed, and he joined her. Already, the tension was leaving. “I promise to stay awake through everything,” she said in encouragement.
A full minute passed before he spoke. “Earlier today, I was reading up on the Trojan War. It was a war between the early Greeks and the people of Troy. There are fictional accounts of the event, but I wanted to know what actually happened. It’s been difficult to separate the facts from the mythology of the war. I don’t often have that problem when I’m studying about an ancient civilization. I can’t even be sure that the book I recently purchased is based on fact.”
“Facts are important to you, aren’t they?”
“Facts are dependable. No matter what happens, they stay the same. In the case of the Trojan War, there’s a lot of material on it, but it’s mostly wrapped up in fiction. The most famous source is the epic poem called The Iliad by Homer. I have a hard time taking it seriously because it’s full of idiotic tales.”
Her ears perked up in interest. “What sort of idiotic tales?”
“Well, I find it absurd to believe a ten-year war would come about because of one lady. I don’t care how beautiful a lady is, she’s not worth going to war for.”
She didn’t know if she’d agree with him. It seemed rather fascinating to think such things were possible.
“I might end up researching another topic,” Lord Whitney continued. “Maybe I should turn my attention to the ancient Chinese. I heard they were one of the earliest prominent civilizations who put people in positions of government based on merit instead of family connections or wealth. Most civilizations didn’t do things that way. But then there’s Mesopotamia, which is the birthplace of civilization. It might be worth the study in what their laws and customs were. Have you heard of Mesopotamia?”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”
“It means ‘between two rivers’. Those rivers are the Tigris and the Euphrates rivers. What makes this particular civilization interesting is that it didn’t just represent one civilization as we think of it. It actually incorporated multiple ones. That’s why it’d be interesting to study their laws and customs.” He paused then offered her an apologetic smile. “I told you the things I discuss can be boring.”
Noting his embarrassment, she returned his smile. “I don’t mind hearing about the different things you want to study.”
“That’s nice of you to say, but I should stop there.”
“You don’t have to. I really don’t mind listening to you.”
“The dance is coming to an end.”
“Oh.” When he put it that way, the conversation did have to end.
Before they went their separate ways, he whispered, “I’ll send your father a missive tomorrow.”
The certainty in his tone dispersed the lingering doubt that he might not keep his word. He would follow through with his promise to her. Deep in her core she knew she could trust him.
Her father came up to her once she was to the side of the ballroom. “I noticed a gentleman asked you to dance.”
“Yes. He was Lord Whitney.”
“I don’t recall him. Does he have a wife?”
“No. He is available for marriage.”
“Do you think he has an interest in you, or did you do something to ruin your chances of having a suitor?”
She forced herself not to wince at the question. Why did he always assume she was the one who ruined things? “I think he might be interested. We had a good time dancing. He mentioned he would send you a request to talk to you privately. I think he intends to be a suitor.”
Her father let out a huff that indicated he was doubtful about it but was willing to hold onto a small bit of hope. “Let’s hope you’re right. In case you’re wrong, I have arranged for you to dance with a couple of gentlemen. Come. I’ll introduce you to the first one.”
He took her by the arm and led her to the other side of the ballroom. It took all of her willpower not to pull her arm away from him. She hated it when he touched her. Any time he helped her down from the carriage or escorted her somewhere, it felt as if a snake was wrapping itself around her body in an attempt to suffocate her. The sooner she could get away from her father, the better.