Page 63 of Lady for a Season
“Vouchers?” asked Maggie.
“To Almack’s.”
No explanation was forthcoming, and Edward was looking unusually grim-faced, so Maggie waited until she could ask Celine.
“It is the most fashionable and sought-after invitation of the season,” she explained. “There is a ball every week for twelve weeks during the season, in some very grand rooms in King Street, just behind St James’ Square. You cannot get in unless you have been invited by one of the lady patronesses. There are seven and each week they hold a committee meeting to decide who will be invited. Everyone in thetonwants a voucher. Of course, Her Grace is very well connected and has a very eligible son to marry off this year. That is why the vouchers have been so readily sent. They will probably even be offered again, should it go well. Almack’s istheplace to secure a high-quality marriage partner, because only the very best families with the most eligible sons and daughters will be admitted entrance. Ifher Grace did not have a son to marry off this year, it is possible she would not have received a voucher. But she has His Grace. And…” Celine stopped.
“And?”
“And since thetonthink you are Her Grace’s niece, you are also considered a good marriage prospect.”
“How can they think that when they believe I am only an impoverished distant connection?”
“It is still a connection. There are wealthy families without titles who would think it very fine to be at all connected to a duke.”
Maggie shook her head. “It would be impossible, anyway. I am not who they think I am, and I can’t spend the rest of my life lying about it.”
Celine’s eyebrows went up. “You might find a rich husband. It is not nothing, do not dismiss it too quickly.”
“I am only here to make Edward feel safe,” said Maggie. “When he is married…”
“When he is married off, he may be put away again,” Celine said bluntly.
“And if he is, I will go with him if I can,” said Maggie. She leaned towards Celine, earnest. “Celine, if they send me away before the marriage, and afterwards he is locked away again, will you find a way to reach me and let me know where he is? I cannot bear to think of him without someone by his side to look after him.”
“You would spend all your life caring for him?”
“Yes.”
“There are others who could care for him.”
“I saw how he was when no-one around him cared.” Gaunt, afraid, poorly dressed, barely speaking. He had become almost unrecognisable since, filling out to a healthier weight, elegant in tailored clothing, his skin glowing, a new confidence showingitself, his smiles and laughter when they were alone. She did not want all of that to fade away again.
The much-feted Almack’s came as a disappointment to Maggie, despite the size of the ballroom, which was close to one hundred feet long, decorated in white and a pale straw-yellow, with blue drapery, large double-tiered crystal chandeliers and a gallery for the musicians. Adjoining the ballroom were an anteroom, a tea-room, and a card-room. But despite the vaunted exclusivity, the rooms felt very crowded and overly warm.
“Twisted Lady Jersey’s arm, I see.” Lady Honora appeared at Maggie’s side. “Hope you ate a good dinner before you came.”
“Why?’
“Worst food in London, Almack’s. Stale sandwiches, stingy on the ham. Watery lemonade, no alcohol and dry cake. Hardly appetising.”
Maggie choked back laughter at the way Lady Honora could humble even the most hallowed of institutions. “I did not know it was so poor. I did not eat before we came out.”
“Ah well, you’ll just have to starve. In future, should you be coming here again, tell your cook to send up a good pie beforehand and leave you a wedge for your return home.” She sighed and shook out her dance card, dangling from her wrist. “Here come the menfolk, brace yourself.”
Maggie’s dance card filled rapidly enough, and she watched as Edward dutifully made his way from one young woman to another, bowing and adding his name to various cards, though he looked sombre as he did so.
Lady Honora circulated before returning to Maggie. “His Grace in a bad mood tonight? Can’t be weary of the marriage mart already, surely? He’s barely started.”
“He is not fond of these larger gatherings,” Maggie said.
“Is anyone?” asked Lady Honora. “Here we go then, first dance. Tally-ho.”
The usual ballroom experience followed, although the crowded room gave less space than usual, despite its large dimensions. Maggie danced, but was concerned about Edward, who, even when dancing with a partner, seemed less and less happy.
“May I have this dance?”
Maggie looked up at a tall young man sporting a loud waistcoat. “I am so sorry, the next dance is taken… sir,” she finished, unsure of the man’s name. While many of the young women had apparently memorised every available man’s name and title, she frequently found herself uncertain.
