Page 9 of The Truth about the Marquess
Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver caught Lady Victoria beginning to retract her hand, her dance card still clasped in it. Quickly, he reached out and took it from her, suddenly filled with an intense dislike for Lady Jemima and her bold words.
“I do not know what you have heard, Lady Jemima, but there are some untruths, some whispers being spoken of me of late which are most unfortunate indeed,” he said, firmly, dropping his gaze to Lady Victoria’s dance card. “I would not like anyone to have the wrong impression about my standing, financially or otherwise.”
“Hmph.” Lady Jemima sniffed, sharing a look with Lady Norah. “Then you mean to say that you have returned your fortune to the great heights it must once have been?”
Oliver scowled but quickly changed his expression as best he could, bending his head to write his name on Lady Victoria’s dance card. He was now rather suspicious that she would be notably absent when the time came for them to dance, given her obvious reluctance.
“I am grateful for your sympathy, Lady Jemima,” he said, lifting his head and handing the card back to Lady Victoria with what he hoped was a smile on his lips. Given the sheer amount of tension running through him, he could not say that he had succeeded in a natural smile. “I have worked hard to improve my situation, and I am glad to say that there has been a considerable amount of… improvement.” Aware that he had used the same word twice in the same sentence, and irritated with himself that he had not been able to speak more effectively, he spread out his hands. “I do hope that answers your question.”
“Mmm.” Lady Norah spoke this time, her eyebrows lifting gently. “Do you mean to say that, though there has beensomeincrease, there has been nothing substantial? Does your manor house require some improvements still?”
Heat built in his chest as Oliver gazed back into Lady Norah’s eyes, hoping that his steady gaze would deter her from her question but instead, all that happened was that she arched an eyebrow, waiting for his response – and Oliver had no choice but to give it.
“I think, Lady Norah, that I would not be here in London and in the midst of society, if I did not think myself to be suitably situated, both in terms of fortune and in my estate. Truth be told, I find it rather disappointing to be asked so many questions as though I must prove myself in such a way rather than having people consider my character and my heart!” Seeing how LadyNorah looked away, Oliver continued, his chest filling with air as he puffed it out, hoping that she would feel a little embarrassed to have spoken so, given his response. “It is not the sort of thing which I have asked any of you now, is it?”
“That is because we have no great fortune, Lord Edenbridge,” Lady Norah replied quickly, her gaze swinging back towards him. “All that we have belongs to our fathers.”
“And I have not asked you questions about them, have I?” Oliver responded, aware that his voice was growing a little louder now, his hands curling tight as he tried to keep hold of himself. Embarrassment was what drove him, mortification over what had been asked, and still, he continued. “I have not stood here and enquired as to what each of your dowries shall be, nor whether or not your fathers have enough funds to keep them respectable! All I have asked is to dance, Lady Norah, and if you wish to refuse, then so be it. I would only ask that you be a trifle more considerate in practically berating me over my lack of fortune – a situation which was not of my making and which I have been burdened with repairing, ever since I stepped into the title.” He stopped then, breathing hard as he looked around the small group. Some of the ladies were staring at him with wide eyes, others were looking down at the floor whilst others – most notably, Lady Norah and Lady Jemima – had slight lifts to the edges of their lips, in what Oliver took to be mocking smiles. He closed his eyes briefly, clearing his throat as he did so. “Do excuse me. I look forward to dancing withsomeof you later this evening.”
“I am still looking forward to it, Lord Edenbridge!”
Oliver managed only a small nod in the direction of Miss Dutton as he turned away, his face flaming. Thus far, he had managed to not only embarrass himself in front of that small group of ladies but also managed to damage his own reputation by speaking as he had done. Yes, he had defended himself, but indoing so, he had spoken much too harshly and much too bluntly, no doubt making some of the young ladies think rather poorly of him. He dropped his head, groaning inwardly, rubbing one hand over his eyes. He had answered as honestly as he could, as regarded his fortune, but he had seen in their eyes that it was not the answer they had wanted. It seemed that, to improve his reputation and his standing, he had to have restored his fortune to a size even greater than it had been before, had to have made improvements to every part of his estate, rather than just the parts which needed repair… and he could not do that!
“Well?”
Oliver looked up to see Lord Dunstable coming to join him, a look of expectation on his face.
“I – I do not want to speak about what just happened.”
“No?” Lord Dunstable’s eyes widened. “Whyever not?”
“Because I have made a fool of myself,” Oliver replied, his heart sinking low. “And even though I have a few dances now filled, I am quite sure that none of them will wish to dance with me again.” His spirits sank even lower, and he shook his head, aware of the many questions which Lord Dunstable wished to ask him, but having no desire to answer even one of them. “I think that I shall find a drink and then a quiet corner of the room,” he continued, before his friend could say anything. “It seems, I fear, that no matter what I try, I am going to be doomed to failure.”
“I am sure that is not so,” his friend replied quickly, but Oliver only turned away and walked directly to the back of the ballroom, eager to be alone.
His shoulders rounded and his head dropped as he found the shadows of the room welcoming him, rushing into them as though he rushed into the arms of a lady he loved.
Except all that met him was silence.
Chapter Four
Swallowing her fears, Jane lifted her gaze and began to walk through London’s Hyde Park, leaving her carriage behind her. Her brother-in-law had been very generous indeed – though Jane had protested, of course - but he had been most insistent. She now not only had a townhouse of her own, but also a carriage and horses, as well as a whole host of servants to care for her and the house. There had been a great many tears upon her departure, tears from Jane herself, as well as from her sister and family, but it still had not deterred her. She was now quite determined to make her way in London and to see what the future might hold for her, though now with the assurance of income and employment, Jane certainly felt far more at ease. There was no longer the fear of being left alone, without funds and hope, no longer the concern that she would have to become a governess and scrape for as much money as she could so that she could live out her final days in vague comfort. No, there now came a sense of freedom, of hope and anticipation, and Jane was grateful for that.
Though coming back to London has been a good deal more overwhelming than I had ever anticipated.
Keeping her head held high and a light smile on her face, Jane continued to wander through the Park, silently wondering if anyone would greet her. Mayhap society had forgotten about her, for it had been two years since she had last been among them – and it had only been her second Season when she had been wed to Lord Harsham. It felt rather strange to be walking alone, without a chaperone or friend beside her. When she had last been in London, the requirement had been that she would always be with someone, would always be present beside either her father or her sister but, now, given that she was a widow, it was entirely acceptable for her to walk on her own.
“Jane?” Hearing her name, Jane continued walking, though she slowed her steps, uncertain as to whether she had heard correctly. It was most unusual for anyone to be called by their Christian name, especially when they were out in public! “Jane, is that you?”
Stopping, Jane turned around, only for her eyes to flare wide as her breath caught in her chest.
“Louisa?”
The next moment, she was enveloped in a tight embrace, her dearest friend in all the world holding her tight. Tears came into Jane’s eyes as she stepped back, grasping Louisa’s hands, barely able to make out a word her friend was saying, despite the torrent that was pouring from her lips.
“I am sorry,” she found herself saying, over and over. “I am so sorry, Louisa.”
“Sorry?” Her friend squeezed her hands, tears now on her cheeks. “What are you apologizing for?”
