Mark of Distinction (Price of Privilege) (43 page)

Lord Alexander turned his head slightly, so as to be heard but not bothering to look. “It’s bad form to introduce someone so awkwardly. Your friend will have to pay for your ill manners, for I am not going to greet him. Had you half a wit, you’d be participating in this conversation, instead of philandering about the room.”

“Oh-ho-ho,” laughed Mr. Billingsby. “Very well, then. Shall we leave, Miss Pierson?”

My name had the effect he desired. Lord Alexander spun, nearly dropping the sherry between his fingers. He cast Mr. Billingsby an incredulous look, then blurted, “What is she doing here?” He squinted at his friend. “And why are you escorting her?”

Mr. Billingsby’s smirk increased. “Sheer luck. Dalry lost her and she stumbled in here.”

The gentlemen surrounding Lord Alexander shifted with an odd reaction. No one pasted a smile and bowed as I’d grown accustomed to. Instead, their glances at Lord Alexander were pregnant with fear, contrasting with the jaunty atmosphere, making this group stand out like a sharp angle.

Lord Alexander viewed me with dismay but was the first of his friends to recover. “Miss Pierson, here; allow me to find you a glass of sherry.” He looked at a well-dressed gentleman to his left and hesitated before saying, “Fred, go fetch her one.”

The gentleman appeared jarred by the order but turned and headed toward a footman.

Lord Alexander bowed, finally managing a smile, though his eyes remained alert. “I’m glad you landed amongst us, Miss Pierson. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to wander into the wrong house with your . . . past connections?”

Even had I been in a normal frame of mind, his statement would have disturbed me, but already troubled about Eramus, I stiffened, staring.

“Here, you’re frightened. Forgive me, Miss Pierson.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve nothing to fear from this group. Let’s just say that you’ve fallen amongst . . .
his
friends.”

I stared, doing my best to appear nonchalant.

“There’s Dalry,” a man said, pointing. “She ought to be safe enough with him. Look at his expression. I wager tomorrow Lord Pierson is going to rip him to shreds for losing the girl, and he knows it.”

“Pierson would be the least of his worries if something happened to her.”

Isaac stood under the archway, frantically searching for me. When he spotted me, he adopted his high-cultured face and made his way toward us.

“Well, do we let him take her?” the blond gentleman asked.

“I’m thinking,” Lord Alexander said between gritted teeth. “The fact he lost her once is evidence enough she needs another protector, but I doubt he’ll take kindly to my assuming the role.” He glanced sideways at me. “Yet it’s not Dalry I fear offending.”

Our eyes met. His manner, his expressions reminded me of Mr. Rooke or Mr. Greenham. Only Lord Alexander lacked the
mastery Mr. Greenham commanded. It was almost as if Lord Alexander were a fledgling, stretching his wings for the first time.

“He would instruct you to take me back to Lord Dalry,” I said with a cold pit in my stomach.

Without even considering whether I spoke truth, Lord Alexander took my right arm and guided me in Isaac’s direction.

Isaac halted and waited with a face of stone. “Kensington,” he said upon our approach.

“Billingsby brought the poor, terrified girl to me,” Lord Alexander whispered in anger. “I have half a mind to keep her with me. I’d hate for Lord Pierson to learn his daughter was left in incompetent hands and I failed to assist her.”

“Neither Lord Pierson nor I require your help, thank you.”

Lord Alexander folded his arms. “Then why is she in my care and not yours?”

“I had a debt to settle with Eramus.”

“Calvin? Don’t tell me that toad is here as well.”

“He’s Miss Pierson’s primary escort.”

Lord Alexander snorted, then turned to me. “First your father guards you, and now he sends you out with a cad and an escort who loses you. Know that I shall remain at this party as long as you do. Feel free to call upon my services, for in good conscience I cannot leave you alone. Dalry.”

Isaac and Lord Alexander gave each other stiff bows.

While Lord Alexander retreated, Isaac watched him with annoyance, then turned toward me. In a rare display of public affection, he drew my hand to his lips. “You look pale. What happened with Eramus had nothing to do with you. Had I known Alexander Kensington was inside waiting, I never would have sent you alone.”

Behind Isaac, Eramus stormed into the room, anger boiling over, twisting his already-ugly features. I turned to find Lord Alexander’s group all watching me with sharp and sober expressions. I slid my fan over my wrist, considering the dark
irony. One side of the room was filled with Macy’s men, and on the other was Isaac’s tormentor. I slid my arm beneath Isaac’s and leaned into him, realizing how unisonant we actually were. For all his polished manners, he was exactly like me, completely secluded in the crowded room, haunted by his past.

I resisted my desire to lay my head on his shoulder. With discomfort, I realized that if my father forced me to marry Isaac, I could grow to truly love him. He already was my teacher and comforter.

“Julia?” Isaac asked, and I felt his light touch at my elbow. “Did he offend you?”

Bitterly I laughed, avoiding looking at him. “No.”

“Something has changed. What?”

“If I try to talk about it, I’ll cry. Can we go home?”

Isaac glanced about the room, his polished expression gone. “Tell me.”

The first tear trickled down my cheek. “Why? You won’t tell me about Eramus. Why should I tell you what is disturbing me?”

With a gentle touch, Isaac moved me to an empty corner. “Sit.” He withdrew an iris from a vase and held it up as if he were showing the bloom. “You mustn’t cry. I won’t ask another question tonight—I swear it—but you must pull yourself together. I can’t take you home; I’m not your escort.”

I concentrated on ignoring the rising sadness at our situation and nodded. “Will you tell me about Eramus?”

He gave a soft chuckle, then made a noise of distress. “Why that?”

“I want to know.”

His chest filled with air, though I never heard him sigh. “If you wish, but not until this fortnight has ended and we are free of our obligation to him. But you’ll tell me what disturbed you tonight, at home.”

Understanding that I wouldn’t get a better offer, I nodded.

“That’s my girl.” Isaac took my hand in his and gave it a
squeeze. “I’ll tell you what. Look in that far corner. See those four men? We’ll start by socializing with them. They are so enwrapped in their scientific pursuits, their conversation will revolve entirely around a new species of plant or some other tiresome topic. It will help you collect yourself. Do you think you can manage that?”

Toward midnight, the dull buzz of the surrounding conversations reminded me of a drowsy afternoon at Am Meer by the beehives. Beneath my sweltering dress, my chemise clung to my body. I glanced at Isaac, still deep in conversation with a gentleman about the Corn Laws. We’d gone from science to England’s financial concerns, then lastly to politics about an hour ago.

Isaac kept my arm in his, and the humid warmth of our bodies diffused through my limbs. I stifled a yawn. Like sticky honey, the desire to sleep coated my thoughts, causing my eyelids to grow heavy. For a second, I rested my head on Isaac’s shoulder, just to close my eyes a moment.

“Miss Pierson tires,” the gentleman said with a smile in his voice, and I blinked awake. “Why not take her home and come back to finish our talk. Miss Pierson, you’ve been most kind to tolerate us.”

I tried to give him an elegant head bob, but even tired I knew it was clumsy.

Isaac smiled at the gentleman, but I knew it was placed. “Perhaps we should end our conversation now. Unfortunately, we have two more parties we need to make appearances at. It’s best we move on.”

The gentleman took a sudden step backwards. “Let us hope the night air revives her. Shall we finish our conversation at White’s? I’ll be there this Tuesday. I know Harrison would be interested in your thoughts about this as well.”

“I fear I have no plans to attend the clubs this week. Miss
Pierson has been very tolerant of her father’s and my work. It’s her turn to attend functions.”

“So? Why not come afterwards?” He nodded at me. “Take her to the balls and then join us for the night debates. If what you’re saying is true, this changes my entire view.”

“Perhaps.” Isaac broke contact with the man. “Do you have your fan? Shall we?”

“Well, come on, my good man. What club will you attend tonight? I’ll join you there, if I must.”

“None. Good night.” Isaac took my arm and we escaped by ducking under palm leaves and hastening past a matron surrounded by daughters. As the gentleman attempted to follow us, the mother bowed, obliging him to stop and acknowledge her. Leaning near, Isaac said, “I’m sorry, Julia. I should have realized we were talking too long.”

“Are we really going elsewhere?”

“Eramus told your father he planned to visit three places at least.” He wrinkled his nose. “It’s up to him. Go wait by the door. I’ll pull your escort from his card game. From the rumor I just heard, he’s lost an inordinate amount tonight.”

He elbowed his way back into the crowd. In the foyer, I fanned my neck, enjoying the thinner air. The night had been trying for more reasons than learning that members of the gentry knew I was Mr. Macy’s wife. All those weeks of practice, and I’d forgotten the correct way to address a duke, which Isaac had quickly amended. Once a girl had leaned over and whispered something in French to me, nodding at Isaac, and all I could do was smile and hope she wasn’t insulting him or inquiring if we were closer than we ought to be.

Feeling eyes upon me, I stiffened and looked about. Four doors down, in the night-filled hall, Lord Alexander stood astride a threshold. His expression was one of irritation, but he scarcely rested a glance on me. Instead, his eyes darted between the doors surrounding me.

Isaac returned with a drunk Eramus, who seemed too intoxicated to stand, much less notice me, and started to gather our outerwear. Eramus sank into a seat, nearly falling from its corner.

Lord Alexander lingered a second, watching us, then melted into the darkened room with a dissatisfied expression.

Moonlight glided across the smooth floors, adding luster to the marble busts and clock faces, as Isaac and I slipped into the hall. My cheeks hurt from smiling, my hands tingled from clapping at the musical performances, and my feet were so swollen they felt glued to my slippers. I dropped my fan and purse on the table to the sound of Eramus’s carriage rattling away. I shut my eyes, realizing I’d never been so happy to be back in London House.

The gold brooch securing my cape felt cool to the touch as I unclasped it. Heavy velvet and satin slid from my shoulders and fell to the floor with a rustle. February’s fingers pierced my skin as the warmth from the cape evaporated.

While Isaac gathered my fallen garment, I peeled off my beaded footwear. Though tempted to leave the slippers scattered over the foyer and force Miss Moray to trek down three stories to retrieve them, I hooked them around my fingers and stood to leave.

“Wait.” Isaac shook off his own cape and uncharacteristically left it crumpled on the floor. He took two steps and reached for me but paused when I made no move to continue up the stairs.

“Julia.” He touched his forehead with his fingertips as though trying to reason which thought to speak first. “I know you are weary, but what happened at Lord Billingsby’s tonight?” The huskiness coating his voice clashed with the serene atmosphere of the hall.

I was so fatigued, it felt like I’d consumed too many glasses of claret as I slowly met his gaze. For the first time, I saw him as all the young ladies throughout London saw him—handsome as the Greek god Ares, only without violence. Moonlight sharpened
his features as candlelight never had. For one second, I allowed myself to admire him.

His eyes widened, but in a refined movement, he slid one hand to my waist and cradled my face with the other. His lips touched mine, and for half a second, I considered exploring the kiss. But I thought of Edward, and all at once, a mere mortal pressed his lips against mine. Not a god, just a man. One whom I still did not love.