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Talk of the Ton (Free Fellows League 5)

Page 109

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He took his leave with a bow. Bemused by the entire episode, Jenny stood a moment until her sensibilities began to creep back upon her. Without Miles by her side, she felt alone and exposed; certain people were stealing glances at her with speculation in their eyes.

There would be talk, no doubt, about the fact that Miss Jenny Alt’s first dance in months had been on the arm of the newly arrived Earl of Hatherleigh. Countless jeers would be tossed over that bit of gossip. No doubt it would be branded a kindness on the earl’s part, done out of pity.

She threaded through the crush, seeking the comfort of her friends, and found them at last gathered around a pianoforte in the music room. Amy saw her enter and motioned her over excitedly. Standing beside Amy was Lord James Errol, and he seemed to be smiling a great deal, his eyes watching Amy closely.

It pleased her that Amy might have found a beau. She was attractive and sweet-natured, but did not thrust herself forward as most of the other girls did.

Almost immediately after her arrival, Lord Errol excused himself. Jenny glanced uncomfortably at his retreating back. “I hope I didn’t intrude, Amy.”

“He knows I wish to speak to you alone. He has just told me something very disturbing that he heard this evening. It concerns you.”

Jenny was taken aback. “Me?”

“You see, he has heard terrible things about you being against marriage, that you were a . . . a . . . Oh, Jenny, I hate to say this, but he said he’d heard you had sworn never to marry. What is more, you would cut down any man who dared approach you.”

Jenny placed a hand over her thudding heart, taking a long, agonizing moment to assimilate this. “What? But . . . my goodness, I did not realize I had given so bad an impression.”

Had this been what Darlington had alluded to the other day after church? She realized it must have been.

“No, don’t you dare think that. It is obvious someone has been spreading lies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cassandra, of course.”

“Cassandra? Why would she bother to malign me?” Jenny replied. “I’ve never vied for any attentions with her. Quite the opposite. Oh, here comes Lord Errol! I can’t face him, or anyone right now. Please, make my excuses. I’m going to the retiring room.”

“I’ll come with you,” Amy said.

“No, please. I don’t want you to. I need to be alone. Stay with Lord Errol, Amy, I think he likes you. I just need to think.”

As she began to rush away, a large figure blocked her path. She started, her nerves raw from what she had just heard, and saw it was Lord Darlington standing in front of her.

In his hand, he held a champagne glass, but by the ruddy color in his cheeks and the brightness of his eyes, it was not his first libation of the evening.

“Please, excuse me,” she murmured. She was in no mood to handle his clumsy flirtations.

“Did you enjoy your dance?” He spoke bitterly.

That brought her up short.

His lips curled in a gesture that was more sneer than smile. “I thought you did not dance. At least you never danced with me.”

“I think you are not yourself,” she said carefully. “Please let me pass.”

“Of course, Miss Alt, of course. I would not wish to delay you. It would be such an imposition to prolong our conversation, keep you from other, more interesting matters.”

“Lord Darlington, please do not take offense. I . . . I have something on my mind.”

“Something? Or someone?” Spite was thick in his voice. “You smell so nice, Miss Alt.”

“Please, you are making a scene. Step away.”

“Yes, we can’t have that, now can we?” He shrugged, but his mouth remained twisted in discontent. “Oh, no, not a scene! Not the proper and oh so very aloof Miss Alt, who spares her precious time for no man.” His face changed then, crumpled from anger into grief. “But you have smiles and adoration in your eye for Lord Hatherleigh when you danced with him. Why him? Dare I guess he is your lover?”

“You insult me!” Jenny shot back sharply. Her heart was hammering wildly, and she feared she was going to weep. The night had been a rush of mad emotions, from the exhilaration of Miles’s attentions to the crush of hearing that her reputation was being blackened by rumor. This was the last straw. “Now remove yourself, or I will call for help.”

He stepped away, sullen now, and watched her pass with a glare in his eyes that held a chilling promise.



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