Cinderella in the Regency Ballroom: Her Cinderella Season / Tall, Dark and Disreputable. Deb Marlowe

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       Chapter Four

      Lily closed her eyes and let her heart soar with the music. Happiness filled her and she didn’t even try to stem it—the ascending harmonies matched her mood so perfectly.

      The last several days spent with Lady Dayle had been full—and incredibly fulfilling. The pair of them had shopped a little, and explored much of what the city had to offer. Lily had lost herself in fine art and turned her skin brown picnicking in the parks. They had encountered Miss Dawson again and Lily had struck up a fast friendship with the young lady, and she’d coaxed her into showing her all the fashionable—and safe—areas of the city.

      Lily had laughed at the raucous prints lining the shop windows and lusted after the huge selections in the bookstores. Best of all, she had spent endless hours talking and talking with the viscountess. Seven years of questions, comments and contemplations had bubbled up and out of her and Lady Dayle had matched her word for word. And though she did not share in it completely, the viscountess had not once chastised her for her boundless energy or curiosity.

      Lily had not forgotten her end of the bargain either. She’d taken Lady Dayle along to several meetings of charitable societies and introduced her to the hard-working, generous people who ran them. The viscountess appeared happy to be wading into these new waters, getting her feet wet and judging which of the endless charitable opportunities interested her most.

      Tonight, though, came Lily’s first society outing. Lady Dayle had indeed chosen a musical evening. All about her sat people who took pleasure in each other and in the beauty of the music, and finally Lily felt the last of her restraints fall away. Her spirits flew free to follow the intricate melodies of the string quartet. Even the gradual darkening of the piece could not shake her enjoyment. The beauty of the mournful finish echoed within her and when the last haunting chord faded away she sat silent a moment, relishing it, and ignoring the silent stream of tears down her face.

      ‘Oh, my dear,’ Lady Dayle said kindly. She pressed Lily’s hand and passed her a linen handkerchief.

      Lily smiled her thanks and dried her eyes. She was attracting attention. Two ladies behind the viscountess smiled indulgently at her, but further away she could see others watching with their heads together or talking behind their hands. She raised her chin. ‘That was absolutely beautiful, was it not, my lady?’

      ‘Indeed it was,’ agreed Lady Dayle. She got to her feet as the rest of the guests rose.

      ‘I’d forgotten that music could touch you so deeply.’ Lily sighed, following. ‘Will they be doing another piece?’

      ‘Before the evening is over they will. There is an intermission now, with food and the chance to mingle with the others.’ Lady Dayle flashed a smile over her shoulder. ‘Mrs Montague has asked that her guests also take part in the entertainment. Should you like to play? You mentioned the pianoforte, I believe.’

      ‘Oh, no.’ Lily laughed. ‘It has been so long since I played anything other than hymns, and I doubt the company would be interested.’

      ‘I think it would be very well received. This is the most fascinatingly diverse mix of people I’ve seen in a long time.’ She gestured to a corner where a footman with a platter of hot oyster loaves stood surrounded by eager guests. ‘Where else have you ever seen a bishop laughing genially with a patroness of Almack’s and a banking magnate? Mrs Montague’s acquaintances appear to come from nearly every walk of life.’

      ‘I think it must be the extensive work she does for the Foundling Hospital,’ Lily mused. ‘It is easier to approach people when you do so for a good cause, and you quickly learn who is like-minded and who is not.’ She took a glass of wine from a passing footman, and then stared at Lady Dayle. An odd smile had blossomed suddenly on the viscountess’s face.

      ‘There now, Lily, you must help me test my theory. Look over my shoulder towards the door and tell me if my son Jack has not just arrived?’

      Lily started. A large part of her hoped that the viscountess would be proven wrong. She had not seen Jack Alden since the day of their first dramatic encounter. It was true that she had felt happier in the intervening days than in years, but too many times she had caught herself grinning at nothing, brought to a halt by a vivid recollection of that secret smile on his handsome face.

      It still piqued her that this man—the first to awaken in her such an instant, physical response—should not also be the sort of man she could be comfortable with. She battled a sense of loss too, and a relentless curiosity. Why should Jack Alden—who appeared to have every advantage—have grown so closed? What could have happened, to cause him to retreat so far into himself?

      She would likely never know. But even though she knew that such a man was not for her, still she was plagued with sudden memories of the intensity of his hazel gaze, the heat of his touch upon her arm, the low rasp of his voice as he leaned close …

      Stop, she ordered herself.

      She took an unobtrusive step to the side and let her gaze drift towards the door. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It is Mr Alden.’ Her pulse tripped, stumbled and then resumed at a ridiculously frantic rate.

      He stood framed in the doorway, casually elegant and annoyingly handsome. Though he focused on greeting their hostess, even from here she could see the cool remoteness in his gaze. He was the only man of her acquaintance who could manage to look both intense and aloof in the same moment. It irritated her beyond reason.

      She stepped back, placing his mother between them so he was no longer in her line of vision. She cast a curious look at Lady Dayle. ‘You are facing away from the door. How ever did you know that he had arrived?’

      Lady Dayle laughed. ‘A tell-tale gust of wind.’ She nodded to the guests grouped behind Lily. ‘Jack walks in and we are treated to a phalanx of fluttering fans, flittering eyelashes and swishing skirts. It is a sure sign when I feel a breeze tugging on my coiffure.’

      ‘Is Mr Alden considered such a good match, then?’ Lily asked. She grinned. ‘I don’t mean to offend; it is just that Lady Ashford indicated otherwise—and in quite certain terms.’

      ‘Warned you off, did she? It’s to be expected. She had hopes once, you see … Well, never mind, that’s all ancient history.’ She leaned closer. ‘Jack is not approaching, is he?’

      Lily carefully glanced over her shoulder. ‘No. He’s just moved past Mrs Montague. He doesn’t look at all happy to be here, I must say.’

      He looked across and met her gaze right at that moment. Her composure abruptly deserted her. Face flaming, she nearly took a step backwards just from physical shock. Reminding herself to breathe, she wrenched her gaze from his, concentrating on his mother once more.

      ‘Good. Look at them.’ Lady Dayle indicated the gaggle of girls who were focused subtly, and in some cases downright overtly, on her son. ‘It’s because he’s so elusive, I suppose.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a rare enough occasion that his brother or I can convince him to attend an event such as this. And with his name being bandied about lately after that contretemps at the Egyptian Hall, he seems to have become even more interesting.’

      Lily stared thoughtfully at the hopeful girls. ‘I assume Mr Alden enjoys the attention,’ she mused.

      ‘I wish he did,’ Lady Dayle said flatly. ‘Truthfully, I don’t think СКАЧАТЬ