‘Not at all, my dear Miss Lawrence.’ He patted my hand in a manner that I hoped was supposed to be avuncular. ‘I am Lord de Forrest. Can I assume you are newly arrived in London?’
‘Yes, we have been here a few days now. I took lodgings in Upper Wimpole Street with my chaperone companion, but I have never been more deceived in a recommendation! The rooms are so dowdy and I gather it is not at all a fashionable address. Goodness knows what dear Papa would say if he knew, especially when he gave me a free hand to pay whatever was needful. Never mind, I will be moving just as soon as the agent finds me something with considerably more tone to it.’
‘Your father is most generous,’ he said politely, guiding me across a crowded salon towards the sound of clinking porcelain and cutlery. He seemed pleasant enough, if very ordinary, and rather careless of my personal space.
I could not, for a moment, imagine a vivacious and beautiful young debutante falling for him, but that did not mean he might not fall for her. But, James was adamant that the rumours about him were true. On the other hand, I argued with myself, just because he can’t perform doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel desire. Perhaps he thinks he would be able to rise to the occasion with her.
‘Papa always says money is no object and besides, he was determined I should have a London Season.’ Other than brandishing a vast banner reading Gullible Heiress in front of him I wasn’t sure how much more vulgar I could be.
‘I am sure you will have a great success, Miss Lawrence. Your beauty combined with…Your beauty will assure that.’
‘Why thank you, Lord de Forrest.’
He found me a drink and we talked about trivia for a few minutes, then he introduced me to a group of single young ladies and gentlemen and quietly effaced himself.
They were a lively lot and simply absorbed me into their gossipy, flirtatious chatter. After a while I asked, ‘Lord de Forrest who introduced me – is he a particular friend of yours?’
They all laughed. Miss Hamilton, a willowy brunette with large eyes shook her head. ‘Goodness no, he is far too old for us. He has made up to all of us, of course, but with no luck. We all know he is after a fat dowry and, honestly, fortune hunters can be fun if they are handsome and dashing and wicked but he is just… dull.’
The men exchanged knowing looks and there were a few smirks. They had obviously heard the gossip about de Forrest’s lack of potency.
‘Oh. Well, he did not seem very interested in me and I was terribly indiscreet and let slip something about Papa’s fortune.’ Several of the young men straightened up and took a second look. De Forest obviously wasn’t the only fortune hunter around, or perhaps they automatically checked out all the heiresses in the hope of bringing home the best catch whether they needed the money or not.
‘That is because he was interested in Arabella Trenton,’ Miss Hamilton confided. ‘At least,’ she amended doubtfully, ‘That was the rumour. If it is true then I think she was all about in her head to even contemplate him because, frankly, she could do so much better. But I do not know if the match is off or not – if it were ever a reality. He does not seem exactly heartbroken or anxious about her absence, does he?’
‘Perhaps that is why she has vanished,’ someone said. ‘I mean, they say she has eloped with Sir Clement Selbourne, but he is around Town exactly as usual, nothing has been said and there is no sign of her. Perhaps she just ran away.’
‘Cottingham might have caught up with her and sent her off to rusticate in the country out of Selbourne’s way,’ Mr Felgrove suggested. ‘I had heard that he did not approve the match, although why I cannot imagine. But Cottingham is carrying on as though she really is missing. It is all very odd, don’t you think?’
‘She probably has measles or something,’ I said. Wasn’t a beauty in one of Georgette Heyer’s novels hiding away while the disfiguring pimples subsided? What was the title? Friday’s Child?
‘…brother seems very gloomy, I must say. He sent his apologies for Mama’s card party and she was most put out.’
I yanked my attention back from novels to the conversation. I had missed something, I thought uneasily. But what was there in a card party to interest me?
‘Will you excuse me? I have just seen my cousin over there and I must have a word with him.’ With a smile I set off in pursuit of Lucian whose broad shoulders were vanishing towards the rear of the largest room.
I spotted him behind a wall of potted plants with a statuesque, black-haired lady. The foliage gave enough cover to hide behind while I sized up what was distracting Lucian so effectively. One look and I could see the attraction – her modiste had managed a major feat of engineering in creating a bodice that somehow clung to the impressive slopes of her bosom without any visible means of support. It was just on the edge of decency and Lucian was looking quietly appreciative.
I can’t say I could blame him, even if I did want to tip my glass of champagne down her cleavage. He was a heterosexual male, after all. However, if he had plans for a cosy evening investigating how exactly she had been sewn into that gown they were doomed, because I had more important things for him to think about.
I rounded the plants and swept into their alcove pretending not to notice the dagger-looks from the lady or Lucian’s faint sigh of resignation. It had better be faint, I thought, given that he was hoping to get into my bed as well. ‘Cousin Lucian! There you are, I have been looking all over for you. Oh!’ I pretended to notice his companion for the first time. ‘Am I interrupting anything?’
‘Not now,’ she said with a smile that showed a lot of sharp teeth, and swept out.
‘Oops. Sorry, only I have some really important things to tell you.’
‘Oops?’ One dark brow angled up. He didn’t seem too put out at having his amorous interlude, or whatever it was, interrupted.
‘I have just been drinking champagne with Lord de Forrest.’
‘How did you manage that without an introduction?’
‘I crashed into him because I was rushing out of the ladies’ retiring room too fast because I have had what I think is a breakthrough idea.’ The other brow went up. Lucian appeared to be collecting my unfamiliar expressions. I only hoped he didn’t use any of them and confuse dictionary compilers for generations to come. ‘Anyway, he was very gracious about it and escorted me to the refreshment room and then I realised who he must be, so I introduced myself.’
‘And how did you realise who he was?’
‘He reminded me of my great-grandmother.’