Page 71 of From Rakes to Riches

Lady Goodall laughed. “Hush, Anne, you naughty thing. Go and fetch my wrap from the carriage for me, won’t you, dear? I’m a trifle chilled.”

“Yes, aunt.” Lady Anne paused at the window on her way to the door, and her eyes went wide. “My goodness, it looks as if there are a dozen carriages waiting in the drive! I daresay our Christmas fete is going to be a crush.”

“You’d best hurry then, Anne,” Lady Goodall said, “Or you’ll be caught in the crush and it will take ages for you to make your way back to the ballroom.”

“Yes, aunt. I’m going.”

Lady Goodall waited until Lady Anne was gone, then she drew Adrian aside. “If I might have a quick word, Lord Hawke?”

“Of course, my lady. How can I help?”

“I thought it would be lovely if you opened the ball by dancing the first dance with Anne. Is that agreeable to you, my lord?”

“Dance with Lady Anne?” He hadn’t given any thought at all to dancing, but he’d have to, wouldn’t he?

“Anne is the chair of the Ladies’ Benevolent Society, as you know, my lord, and as you are the evening’s host it only seems proper that you dance the first dance together, but if you have some other young lady in mind?—”

“No, no. I’d be delighted to open the ball with Lady Anne.” It wasn’t as if he could refuse, and he had no objection to Lady Anne. They were friends, after all, and it wasn’t as if he could have the lady he truly wanted. Helena was certain to keep well away from the ballroom tonight.

“Lovely!” Lady Goodall beamed at him. “Here comes Anne now. I daresay she’ll be delighted to dance with you, my lord.”

Lady Anne accepted his invitation to dance with her usual grace, then she and Lady Goodall made their way into the ballroom while he remained where he was to see to his guests as they arrived.

It was a crush, just as Lady Anne had predicted. The Ladies’ Benevolent Society fete was always well attended—one couldn’t be seen to be slighting the Poor Fund, after all—but the throng that made their way up the stairs and into Hawke’s Run’s ballroom put every previous year’s fete to shame. Some of the guests had even come from as far away as Chipping Norton, but judging by the way some of them gawked at him and whispered behind their hands, it wasn’t the generous Christmas spirit that had lured them here.

No, they’d come to get a glimpse at one of London’s most notorious rakes for themselves.

Whatever the reason for the crush, the guests were still arriving by the time the grandfather clock chimed the ten o’clock hour, so he made his way over to Lady Anne, and bowed over her hand. She offered him a pretty curtsy in return, and he led her to the dance floor to the opening strains of a minuet.

And so, the St. Mary’s Ladies Benevolent Society Christmas Fete had begun.

Despite the cold and the threat of snow, guests continued to stream into the ballroom over the next hour. It was so crowded that by the end of the first two dances two young ladies had swooned from the heat, and they were obliged to open a window. The entire party was in high spirits, and encouraged in their merriment by generous servings of negus and mulled wine. Even Lady Codswaddle pronounced the evening to be ‘perfectly agreeable’ and deemed the guests to be ‘the very height of elegance.’

Adrian smiled and laughed and danced, but there was one face missing amongst all the pretty faces surrounding him, a young lady with golden-brown curls and blue-gray eyes.

The ballroom felt empty without her.

“Why didn’tyou go to the ball, Miss Templeton?” Ryan asked, tugging on Helena’s hand. “Don’t you like to dance?”

Helenadidlike to dance, but there’d never been any question of her doing so tonight. Servants didn’t attend their employer’s Christmas fetes.

Ninety-four kissing balls notwithstanding.

It had never bothered her before, being a servant. Governess was a perfectly respectable occupation for an educated lady of slender means, yet now, peering down on the ballroom below from behind a screen on one of the balconies, her stomach was twisting with bitterness, jealousy and regret.

Goodness, when did Christmas become such a miserable holiday?

She would have done well to keep far away from the ballroom tonight, but the boys were excited about the fete, and it didn’t seem fair to deny them a peek at the festivities. So, she’d giventhem each a piece of Cook’s gingerbread and taken them to the balcony, once she’d secured their promise to go to bed without a fuss afterwards.

“Do you even knowhowto dance, Miss Templeton?” Etienne gave her a doubtful look.

“I do, indeed, but I’m here with you and Ryan. I can hardly be in two places at once, can I?”

“I think you should dance, if you like it, Miss Templeton. All the other ladies are dancing.” Ryan peered down at the whirl of couples below them, his green eyes alight with interest. “Papa can dance.”

She stifled a sigh. He could, indeed. It was impossible not to watch him, as tall and graceful as he was, and so handsome in his formal evening clothes. More than one young lady had cast an admiring glance at him as he’d led Lady Anne to the floor for the first dance, and he’d danced every set since then, just as a proper host should do.

“But maybe Miss Templeton doesn’t have a ball dress.” Etienne nibbled at his gingerbread. “I think it’s a rule that a lady has to have a ball dress to go to a ball. Is that right, Miss Templeton?”

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