Her Grace in Disgrace (The Widows of Woburn Place) (12 page)

Lord Stoughton refrained from answering
such a blatant insult, only because he could not think of an appropriate
rejoinder. Westcott could, but refrained, choosing simply to smile at the
prickly Lord Saybrooke. Saybrooke had a moment of shame at his own rudeness,
but he made no apology.

Mr. Parrish, anxious to cover over any
discomfort lurched into speech. “Looking forward to this evening’s
entertainment. A grand ball is rare in this neck of the woods. I am happy for
my girl, Mary, for she rarely has a treat such as this.”

“It promises to be a grand affair,”
admitted Lord Stoughton and then added, “for a country ball.”

Wescott added quickly, “The Mercer’s have
gone to a great deal of trouble to make this a memorable night and I gather there
will be a good many souls coming from hither and yon to attend.”

“It should indeed be a memorable night,
Westcott. There is to be an announcement that I in particular am looking
forward to,” said Lord Stoughton with a gleam in his eye.

“Indeed?” bit Lord Saybrooke.

“Hush, hush,” said Lord Stoughton holding
a finger to his lips, trying to be mysterious.

Westcott, seemingly impatient to get back
to his fishing, said, “if you would kindly make an effort to reign in your
passion, or at least express it in a less rambunctious manner, we would be
supremely grateful.” Lord Westcott bestowed a gracious smile and inclined his
head toward the two men in the opposite boat in lieu of a bow. “Lord Saybrooke,
Mr. Parrish.” And the two Lords rowed off to catch some fish, leaving Parrish
embarrassed and Saybrooke puzzled.

Not ten minutes later a shout echoed on
the lake from Mr. Collins. He had drawn the short straw and was subjected to
sharing a row boat with Lord Edgerton, who had eventually nodded off, fishing
pole in hand. Unfortunately, Lord Edgerton was one of the few successful
fisherman. What proved to be a large fish tugging on his line had jerked Lord
Edgerton awake. He instinctively stood, rocking the boat and before Mr. Collins
could help him, Lord Edgerton had fallen into the lake. Wescott, Danvers and
Saybrooke all jumped in to help the Earl, who could not swim. Captain Danvers
reached him first and swam him to safety. The fishing party officially ended
with four of them dripping wet. The sodden fishermen made their way to their
rooms, followed by several maids with towels, doing their best to eradicate the
watery trail that was left in the gentlemen’s wake.

“My Lord!” declared Wilkes with horror
when he saw his master.

“I am fine, Wilkes, just a little wet,”
Saybrooke assured him.

“Fine?” replied the distressed valet.
“Your new waistcoat is ruined!”

*****

Westcott’s
first glimpse of Isobel in her aqua satin gown with a daring décolletage took
his breath away. He smiled at her from across the room where he was deep in
discussion with Lord Stoughton. She returned his smile and sat next to Lady
Mercer. Lord Mercer had returned to Adelphi a few hours earlier and Henrietta
was beaming. Lord Pelton and Captain Danvers were equally breathless when Lady
Joanna and Miss Parrish entered the room. In fact, a good many of the party
were astonished at the change in Miss Parrish, including her own mother.

“Mary,
what have you done with your hair and where did you get that gown?” Mrs. Parrish,
her eyes wide with astonishment, hissed when her daughter approached her.

“Lady
Joanna fixed my hair, mama, and lent me this gown. Is it not heavenly?” Miss
Parrish asked her disapproving mother.

“I
do not know about heavenly. The neckline is certainly not what I would consider
proper,” began Mrs. Parrish at a loss, not wanting to offend Lady Joanna, but
stunned at the unwelcomed change in her daughter.

“Oh,
it is all the rage in London, Mrs. Parrish. This neckline is actually quite
modest compared to most. I think she looks divine and will turn many heads
tonight,” said Lady Joanna trying to be helpful, but actually making the
situation worse.

Lady
Mercer intervened. “My dear Mrs. Parrish, I know it is a bit of a shock, but
you and I both know dear Mary has a good head on her shoulders and is not
easily corrupted . She simply wants to be fashionable for her very first ball
and I can see no harm in it. After all, you have raised her to be a proper
young lady and I am certain that she will not veer from that path. Miss
Parrish, you look charming; just give your loving mama a minute to adjust.
Would you care for a touch of sherry Mrs. Parrish before the dinner gong?”

Mrs.
Parrish accepted the sherry and barely had time to make a dent in it before
dinner was announced. Captain Danvers offered his arm to Miss Parrish and they
went in to supper together. Lady Mercer had declared at the outset that the
dining would be informal and that any gentleman could escort any lady into the
dining room, rather than using the formal method of escort by rank. It suited
most everyone quite well. No matter the escort, however, there was a seating
arrangement every evening. This evening the places were marked with place cards
written in Lady Stoughton’s unexceptional hand. Isobel was placed between Lord
Pelton and Captain Danvers. Lady Joanna sat on Pelton’s other side and Miss
Parrish was seated on Danvers right. Saybrooke was bookended by Miss Hyde-Price
and Lady Cynthia. Westcott was to Lady Cynthia’s left and Lady Edgemont on his
other side. Dinner was delicious, as always, and the general atmosphere was
celebratory, as everyone anticipated the coming ball.

Isobel
entered the ball room and breathed in the enchanting scent of the myriad of
flowers that adorned the immense room. Flowers were everywhere in vases and
urns and pots. Lengths of sheer white fabric were artfully draped around the
room, giving the impression of a fairy land. Hundreds of candles glittered in
the three elegant chandeliers that graced the room, the crystals twinkling in
the candlelight. It was magical. Isobel could not contain her excitement and
allowed herself a smile of sheer delight.

“Your
smile is more radiant than the chandeliers, Isobel.” Westcott stood by her side
and admired the woman while she admired the room.

“Really,
Westcott. Do woman truly fall for such fawning adulation?” said a scornful
voice from behind.

“It
is not fawning when it is true, Lord Saybrooke,” Westcott countered and turned
to the man. Isobel turned also, scowling at Saybrooke. “Miss Kennilworth’s
smile is delightful and truly does light up a room.”

“Lord
Saybrooke,” came a high-pitched voice at Saybrooke’s elbow. “The orchestra is
starting up and you promised me the first dance.” Miss Hyde-Price wore a white
gown bedecked with spangles and an unfortunate number of flounces. Isobel firmly
believed that plump women should limit or even eliminate flounces.

Lord
Saybrooke bowed to Isobel and Westcott and led his partner onto the dance
floor.

“Isobel,
I regret that I am constrained to dance the first dance with Lady Cynthia. But
I beg you to save the first waltz for me, for I have something of vital
importance that I wish to discuss with you.” Isobel’s heart fluttered and it
took everything within her to maintain her composure.

“Certainly,
Lord Westcott…”

“Jeremy,”
Lord Westcott interrupted.

“Jeremy.
I look forward to it.”

“As
do I. Till then, my dear.”

Isobel
was immediately claimed by Mr. Collins and was pleasantly surprised that he
only trod on her foot once. Isobel partnered Lord Pelton next and then Lord
Mercer. There were still a few more dances to be endured before the waltz with
Jeremy.

When
Lord Mercer returned Isobel to the side lines, Lady Joanna, dragging Miss
Parrish, hurried up to Isobel in a rush of youthful excitement. “You will never
guess what has happened!” Lady Joanna gushed.

“Lord
Pelton has proposed,” said Isobel calmly.

Lady
Joanna’s face was a study in horror. “What? No. Good heavens, no. Lady Mercer
has helped me convince Mrs. Parrish and my mama to allow Mary to come to us in
London for the rest of the season! Is that not wonderful news!”

“Indeed,
it is,” answered Isobel dutifully. “But what of your parents’ plans for you and
Mr. Collins, Miss Parrish?”

“They
were put off by his behavior toward Lady Cynthia,” Miss Parrish explained.

“And
they were not pleased that he snubbed Mary so dreadfully,” added Lady Joanna.

“Well,
at any rate, I am glad for you, Miss Parrish. I hope you enjoy London. I am
sure Lady Joanna looks forward to your company,” Isobel said sincerely.

“Indeed!
With Mary there at Grosvenor Square, mama cannot be so overbearing.” Isobel
looked pointedly at Joanna and frowned. Joanna understood Isobel’s reproof at
her own insensitive words and hurried to amend her statement. “But, most of all
I am over the moon about having someone I can really talk to. We get along
quite famously, do we not Mary?”

“It
is nice to have a friend,” admitted Miss Parrish, though she did not seem quite
as thrilled with the idea of going to London as Lady Joanna.

“We
wanted you to be the first to know, except of course for our mothers and Lady
Mercer. Come, Mary, we must tell Captain Danvers. He will be so pleased.” Mary
looked horrified at the idea of informing the Captain, but she was pulled along
in Joanna’s wake quite helpless against her enthusiasm.

Saybrooke
approached Isobel for the next dance. She looked skeptically at him before she
answered.

“It
is a reel, Izzy. There will be little to no opportunity to speak,” assured Lord
Saybrooke, the corners of his mouth turning up into a gradual smile. She smiled
back and they went arm in arm onto the dance floor.

Saybrooke
admitted to himself that he just wanted to be near her, to touch her. It was
good that the dance did not permit conversation, for he could not be trusted to
speak to her without making a mull of it. They concluded their dance and
Saybrooke guided her to the side of the room. No one came to claim Isobel for
the next dance and Saybrooke was loathe to leave her side. He began a
conversation.

“What
do you hear from your brother, Geoffrey?”

“Very
little. But Imogen writes to bar me from the doors of The Glen. It seems she is
afraid that my little scandal will affect her standing in the eyes of the
ton
and she hopes to distance herself from me.”

“Good
Lord. What a horror that woman is. What was Geoff thinking when he married
her?”

“Money,”
replied Isobel simply. “It seems to run in the family.

Saybrooke
looked uncomfortable and Isobel took pity on him. “How is your mother?”

“As
much of a tartar as ever. She has extracted a promise from me to participate in
the season. She is pressuring me to marry. It is why I am here, languishing at
this social affair.”

“I
have neglected to say how sorry I am about Lionel,” she said with true sadness.

“Thank
you. Losing my brother was quite a shock.” They were both quiet for a moment
until Isobel broke the silence.

“Shall
I wish you and Miss Hyde-Price happy?” asked Isobel with a wicked grin.

“You
shall not! I would rather be boiled in oil,” Saybrooke said, aghast. “What
about you, Izzy, will you marry?”

Isobel
did not answer, for the orchestra had begun the strains of a waltz and Saybrooke
saw Isobel’s breathing start to quicken, her eyes scanning the floor. Then Westcott
strode up to them. “This is my dance, I believe, Miss Kennilworth.”

“It
is, My Lord,” she answered breathlessly. Saybrooke reluctantly released Isobel
into Westcott’s keeping. He watched them with sorrow as they took the floor.

Isobel
remembered Lord Westcott as a good dancer, but tonight she truly felt as if
they were one as they glided across the floor. “Isobel,” he began, whispering
into her ear. “You must know how I feel about you. I am enchanted, enamored. I
love you.”

Isobel’s
heart hammered in her breast. She could not speak, she could barely breathe.
But surely he would not propose to her in the middle of a waltz?

“Would
you do the honor of…?”
He is going to ask me to marry him
, thought
Isobel, now! She held her breath. “…taking a turn with me on the balcony after
this dance, for I have something important to ask you.”

“With
pleasure, Jeremy,” Isobel managed to whisper.

They
continued the dance in silence, but complete accord. Isobel’s heart was singing
with happiness. The dance finally came to an end and Westcott led her from the
floor. Without speaking they walked out onto the large balcony overlooking the
rose garden, blissfully alone.

“Isobel,
may I kiss you?” Lord Westcott asked, pulling her close.

“I
was hoping you would ask, Jeremy.”

The
kiss was searing, for Lord Wescott had wanted to claim her lips the second that
he saw her again at the beginning of the house party. She returned his kiss
with a fervor that spurred him on to deepen the kiss and then his hands began
to explore; her back, her neck, her breast. Her sharp intake of breath served
to stop him in his tracks.