“Goodness, Carolyn, whatever were you thinking?”
Closing her eyes, Carolyn felt her stomach tighten as she turned to face the onslaught that would now be her mother’s sharp words.
“You should have refused Lord Voxley the moment you realized he was in such a foolish state,” Lady Hamilton exclaimed, as Carolyn’s face darkened red all the more. “And then to dance with a gentleman you do not know, I –”
“If you would like to lower your voice just a little, Mama,” Carolyn muttered, twisting her head away from her mother. “You might then notice that there are those nearby who are listening to every word that you speak.” She glared hard at Lady Hamilton, wishing that her mother could show even a speck of kindness and compassion, given that it was not her fault that Lord Voxley had behaved in such a manner. “Now, where is Lord Williamson? He is to dance the country dance with me.” Lord Williamson had come to be both introduced and to seek a dance from her after her first dance with Lord Voxley. Her dance card was not full by any means, but it was a good deal better than last Season’s already. Seeing that her mother had closed her eyes in evident humiliation, Carolyn did not allow another word to pass her lips. Lifting her chin, she moved a few steps away from her mother, attempting to appear as calm and as resolute as before. Yes, Lord Voxley had quite embarrassed her, but there was no real attention being given to her. Lord Franks had helped her in that regard, although she had to confess that she found his manner to be somewhat odd. The way he had turned from her, without even seeking out her name and seemingly unwilling to give her his—it was all quite extraordinary.
“Ah, Miss Hemmingway!”
She smiled immediately, wanting to look quite delighted with the attentions of Lord Williamson. “The country dance, is it?”
“It is,” he beamed, offering her his arm and, without even a glance back at her mother, Carolyn took it and stepped out onto the floor, determined to forget entirely both Lord Voxley and Lord Franks.
Chapter Three
Robert was not faring as well as he had hoped. When he had first gone to Whites, he had expected that someone might have seen a fellow running past them in the darkness, might be able to point him in the direction that the man had taken, and had even allowed himself to hope that perhaps someone might know the emblem that he had found. He had spoken boldly, exclaiming loudly that Lord Watt’s windows had been shattered by the presence of two separate bullets, for he had decided there was no need for secrecy given that the man responsible had clearly know that the League were meeting at Lord Watt’s residence that evening. He had not shown the emblem itself to anyone, however, but had asked one or two questions of a few gentlemen within Whites, wondering if anyone knew anything of such a mark.
No-one had shown any sort of awareness of what he was speaking of. There had been a shrug here or a shake of the head there—none of what he had hoped for. He had gone back there last evening in the hope that someone new might be able to bring something to light, but no-one had been at all helpful.
Which meant that he was now very much struggling with what was expected of him. If he had no path to follow, no thread to pull, then there was very little left for him to do. All he could hope for was that, somehow, somewhere, something might come to light. Lord Caravel had found nothing of significance, even though he had assured Robert that he had a few more people whom he wished to speak to about the emblem.
At least Lord Millerton is improving, he thought to himself, glad that the injury had only been a flesh would. Lord Millerton had insisted on helping Robert thus far, but there had been very little for him to do other than to make subtle enquiries about the emblem they had found—but unfortunately for Robert, Lord Millerton had come up with very little also.
Rubbing at his forehead, Robert let out a long breath and decided that the day was fine enough for him to take a walk through the park. Yes, it might almost be the fashionable hour and yes, the park would be very busy indeed, but that was no reason to remain in his townhouse, muttering thoughts to himself about what the emblem might mean or who the man might be. In fact, Robert considered, it might be better for him to go out and about in London rather than remain at home. After all, he still had to sustain his presence within society, had to still show the ton that he was very much a part of them at present. As far as the beau monde were concerned, Robert was nothing more than another gentleman come to enjoy the Season and perhaps consider matrimony, and that, Robert knew, was something he had to continue to maintain.
“Good afternoon, Lord Franks!”
Groaning inwardly and seriously regretting having left the comfort of his drawing room to come out into London’s Hyde Park, Robert forced a smile to his lips and greeted yet another young lady walking with her mother. Coming here had been a mistake. All he had done since he had first walked into the park had been to greet various acquaintances and be forced into new introductions with others—mostly young ladies and their respective mothers, who were clearly only interested in discovering Robert’s title and whether or not his fortune was well maintained. It felt worse this year than he had found it previously, for he could barely take a step or two without being hounded by another acquaintance. Besides which, so many meetings with so many young ladies only brought to mind the young lady that had almost been his only some months ago, and just how it had all been snatched away. Although he was never deeply in love with the young lady in question, he would have to admit that he was fond of her, but to have had an engagement ended without explanation or discussion had brought him more pain than he had anticipated.
To remember such things was certainly not what he had intended. He had thought to take a short stroll, allowing his gaze to flicker from person to person as he had done so, but instead, he could hardly even put one foot in front of the other.
“Good afternoon, Lord Franks.”
A voice he did not recognize reached his ears and he turned around to see a young lady standing just to his right. She was really quite tall, with wispy golden hair that seemed to be attempting to escape from under her bonnet, pale blue eyes but with very full and very red lips. There was an unusualness about her but he did not find her ugly or plain, but rather more striking. She did not wear the traditionally white walking dress that young ladies of the ton might wear, but rather a gown of light lilac, with a pelisse of deep lilac, which seemed to add a little more color to her eyes. There was no sense of recognition within him, however, so even though he bowed and she curtsied, he could not even recall her name.
“It is very good to see you again,” the young lady continued, when he said nothing. “After last evening, I am rather glad to be able to thank you once again for your actions.”
Her face came back to him in a rush and he realized at once who she was. “Ah, yes of course,” he managed to reply, still trying to hunt through his mind for her name. “You are quite welcome, of course.”
“Miss Hemmingway,” she told him, a small smile on her face as she tilted her head and looked at him, something in her eyes making him flush red with embarrassment. It was most unusual for him to react so but the knowing smile on her face and the small twinkle in her eyes sent a dart of mortification into his heart.
“You need not concern yourself, Lord Franks,” she continued, quietly. “You were most reluctant to give me your name last evening and I believe I had to shout my name out towards you as you retreated.” She shrugged and laughed, although there was a slight awkwardness to her tone which spoke of a true confusion over his actions. “But I am glad to see you again so that I might once more express my thanks. You helped me a great deal and I am truly grateful. Indeed, there has been no lasting gossip about my failed dance with Lord Voxley!”
“Which is just as it should be,” he told her, inclining his head. He knew that he had practically run from her side last evening, had shown no interest in discovering her name or any such thing, but he had been so distracted by his own thoughts as regarded the man who had shot through Lord Watt’s windows, that he had found there to be no eagerness in his heart to spend any more time with the lady. But now that he stood in front of her, in the warmth and brightness of a summer’s day, Robert felt his heart twist with regret and shame. He ought to have continued to behave in a more gentlemanly manner than he had done.
“I should, of course, have sought your name and title from you, Miss Hemmingway,” he said, finding it a little odd to be standing practically head to head with a young lady, for even though he was not overly tall, he was certainly unused to finding young ladies to be at the same height as he. “Forgive me.”
She studied him for a moment, her lips pressing together hard, her eyes assessing him. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking of, what she was doing, but discovered that he could not. The look in her eyes was so grave that he could do nothing but continue to wait.
“You need not even ask for forgiveness after your chivalry,” she told him, after a few long moments had passed. The smile caught one corner of her mouth. “Besides which, it was a very unusual situation and there are not any particular rules as to what one must do upon such an occasion.” Her smile continued to grow. “I must hope that we can continue on as acquaintances, however.”
“I would be more than glad of it,” he told her, honestly, surprising himself. “And should you like to take a short turn about the park?”
The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he had said. He stared at her in surprise, aware that he could not now turn his back on her and walk away but would now have to walk arm in arm with Miss Hemmingway for a short time.
“I
….” Miss Hemmingway looked something between astonished and delighted, her eyes practically glowing as they fastened to his. “I must first inform my mother, Lord Franks. She is just over there and I will only be a moment or two.” She did not wait for him to reply but hurried to a group of ladies standing only a few feet away. Miss Hemmingway spoke rapidly to an older lady who was already beginning to frown.