Page 22 of To Claim the Long-Lost Lover
Sarah shook her head. “Perhaps. But surely the Beast knows that he cannot get away with attacking institutions supported by gentry and the nobility? Can Tony help us put the Beast in jail?”
Charlotte shook her head. “He’s a boy and an orphan from the slums. Even if we put him in front of a judge, the Beast is likely to claim he offered the boy a job. After all, Aldridge didn’t actually see him in the room where he was imprisoned. Aldridge spent an hour with Tony this afternoon, by the way. They were trying to work out how they are related, though they’re certain there is a connection.”
“Is he Aldridge’s son, do you think?” Sarah asked.
“Aldridge says not. He was in Scotland at the relevant times, and Tony says his mother lived in London.” Charlotte examined her gloved fingers. “Aldridge takes his family responsibilities very seriously.”
Whatever Aldridge had been like as a younger man, Sarah thought he now took all his responsibilities very seriously. The stories whispered among the ladies and joked over by the gentlemen were years old, though few people appeared to acknowledge any change.
The carriage had finally inched its way to the head of the line, and the footman opened the door for the sisters to descend. They expected Drew to be waiting, as he’d said he would meet them at the ball, but instead, Aldridge hovered on the steps and gestured to the footman to step aside so he could hand the ladies down.
The sisters couldn’t help a quick gasp as he lifted his hat in greeting. His hair had been cropped close to his head, and on one side the skin showed pink and raw. Aldridge ignored the reaction with his usual insouciance. “Lord Andrew has been delayed, my ladies, but my mother is waiting to give you countenance this evening.”
Charlotte looked about to argue that they were old enough to be able to attend a ball without a chaperone or a male family member, but Sarah nudged her. The throng working their way into the house did not need to be edified by watching Charlotte and Aldridge bicker.
Aldridge was known for his calm response in every situation. Sarah had only ever seen him become heated in discussion with two people: his half-sister Jessica and her sister Charlotte. And, whatever Charlotte might think, Sarah didn’t think his feelings towards Charlotte were brotherly.
Speaking of Jessica, she was with the duchess, waiting in the mansion’s entrance hall. She slipped her hand into Sarah’s arm to ask after Elias. “I followed your example and used ‘family matters’ as an excuse to leave early. Aunt Eleanor is trying hard not to say ‘I told you so’. She assured me that I would not enjoy a house party without either her or Aldridge to ensure people treated me with respect.”
“Was it awful, Jess?”
Jessica shrugged. “They were not rude to my face, precisely. But they did use your poor little ward as an excuse to bait me. You know the sort of thing—talking about how the base-born should not be allowed to mix with decent people, and then apologising and looking flustered. Lord Colyton was kind, and Lord Hythe, of course. But most of them were horrid.”
They had to break off to greet Lord and Lady Framington, their hosts. Sarah watched. The pair were as polite and friendly to Jessica as to her and her twin, but perhaps they couldn’t do otherwise under the duchess’s sharp eyes.
“I am sorry you had a terrible time,” she murmured as they moved on up the stairs.
Jessica grinned. “I gave as good as I got. I pontificated about hypocrites and whited sepulchres, but very politely and without pointing any fingers. Silly people. We don’t need them, do we, Sarah? Oh, look! Felicity is here! Aunt Eleanor, may I go and talk to Lady Felicity?”
The Framingtons must have been economising on candles, for only every second one was lit in the widely spaced chandeliers. This made the room too dimly lit and, even this early in the evening, too full of people to be able to pick identities at a distance, but their friend Lady Felicity Belvoir was chatting with friends in the nearest corner of the room, not twenty feet away.
“We’ll all go,” Charlotte suggested.
“I will make for the matron’s corner,” the duchess agreed. “Jessica...”
“I know, Aunt Eleanor. Stay with my friends, and if I am separated, perhaps to dance, have my escort bring me to you.” Jessica managed to recite the litany without sighing and the duchess smiled.
“I know it annoys you, my dear, but a young lady needs to be careful.”
The corner just to the left of the main entrance was, Sarah decided, as they exchanged greetings with their friend, an excellent place for Nate to find her. With that in mind, she had only half her attention on the conversation, the rest cataloguing the guests as they poured into the already crowded room, or trooped out on their way to some other entertainment.
More of the first than the second, so by the time the Earl and Countess of Lechton came in through the door, Nate a few feet behind them, the room had gone from ‘crowded’ to ‘a crush’ to ‘a sad crush’, and all four ladies had surrendered their dance cards several times to would-be partners.
Nate looked around, saw Sarah, and came straight to her. “Good evening, my lady.” He remembered his manners and greeted Charlotte, who introduced him to Felicity and Jessica, but he delighted Sarah by being too flustered for more than a bow and a polite greeting, turning immediately to her to ask, “Did you get my message, my lady?”
“I did. I am sorry I had another errand this afternoon. You were not hurt in the fire, I hope?”
Then Felicity had to know what she was talking about, Jessica had to describe her shock at her brother’s scorching, and Nate downplayed the event while casting glances sideways at Sarah. He was clearly wondering how to extricate himself from the conversation so he could talk to her.
She was about to ask him to escort her for a walk around the room when Lord Farmington called for attention and announced that the dancing was about to begin, and her first partner emerged out of the hordes to claim her.
“I have you down for the supper dance, my lord,” she told Nate in an aside. “I will be waiting for you in the far corner—the one on the right at the other end of the ballroom.”
Nate gazed after her as she left. She could feel the weight of his eyes, not just then, but throughout the next two hours, as she accomplished three more sets with different partners, all the time thinking about what Nate might have to tell her to justify his long absence.
She had promised Uncle James she would listen. Indeed, she would have done so without any such promise. Elias needed a father, and here he was. And, apparently, her stupid heart didn’t care about his abandonment, and her even more foolish body was convinced it belonged to him. She could feel herself melt when he was near, and she’d never done that for anyone else.
If he had even a ghost of an excuse, she would have to get to know him again. Not more than that. She didn’t trust him, and she wasn’t sure he could mend that. She wouldn’t marry without trust, but she would give him a hearing.
