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Cinderella in the Regency Ballroom: Her Cinderella Season / Tall, Dark and Disreputable

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2018
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‘I’d forgotten that music could touch you so deeply.’ Lily sighed, following. ‘Will they be doing another piece?’

‘Before the evening is over they will. There is an intermission now, with food and the chance to mingle with the others.’ Lady Dayle flashed a smile over her shoulder. ‘Mrs Montague has asked that her guests also take part in the entertainment. Should you like to play? You mentioned the pianoforte, I believe.’

‘Oh, no.’ Lily laughed. ‘It has been so long since I played anything other than hymns, and I doubt the company would be interested.’

‘I think it would be very well received. This is the most fascinatingly diverse mix of people I’ve seen in a long time.’ She gestured to a corner where a footman with a platter of hot oyster loaves stood surrounded by eager guests. ‘Where else have you ever seen a bishop laughing genially with a patroness of Almack’s and a banking magnate? Mrs Montague’s acquaintances appear to come from nearly every walk of life.’

‘I think it must be the extensive work she does for the Foundling Hospital,’ Lily mused. ‘It is easier to approach people when you do so for a good cause, and you quickly learn who is like-minded and who is not.’ She took a glass of wine from a passing footman, and then stared at Lady Dayle. An odd smile had blossomed suddenly on the viscountess’s face.

‘There now, Lily, you must help me test my theory. Look over my shoulder towards the door and tell me if my son Jack has not just arrived?’

Lily started. A large part of her hoped that the viscountess would be proven wrong. She had not seen Jack Alden since the day of their first dramatic encounter. It was true that she had felt happier in the intervening days than in years, but too many times she had caught herself grinning at nothing, brought to a halt by a vivid recollection of that secret smile on his handsome face.

It still piqued her that this man—the first to awaken in her such an instant, physical response—should not also be the sort of man she could be comfortable with. She battled a sense of loss too, and a relentless curiosity. Why should Jack Alden—who appeared to have every advantage—have grown so closed? What could have happened, to cause him to retreat so far into himself?

She would likely never know. But even though she knew that such a man was not for her, still she was plagued with sudden memories of the intensity of his hazel gaze, the heat of his touch upon her arm, the low rasp of his voice as he leaned close …

Stop, she ordered herself.

She took an unobtrusive step to the side and let her gaze drift towards the door. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It is Mr Alden.’ Her pulse tripped, stumbled and then resumed at a ridiculously frantic rate.

He stood framed in the doorway, casually elegant and annoyingly handsome. Though he focused on greeting their hostess, even from here she could see the cool remoteness in his gaze. He was the only man of her acquaintance who could manage to look both intense and aloof in the same moment. It irritated her beyond reason.

She stepped back, placing his mother between them so he was no longer in her line of vision. She cast a curious look at Lady Dayle. ‘You are facing away from the door. How ever did you know that he had arrived?’

Lady Dayle laughed. ‘A tell-tale gust of wind.’ She nodded to the guests grouped behind Lily. ‘Jack walks in and we are treated to a phalanx of fluttering fans, flittering eyelashes and swishing skirts. It is a sure sign when I feel a breeze tugging on my coiffure.’

‘Is Mr Alden considered such a good match, then?’ Lily asked. She grinned. ‘I don’t mean to offend; it is just that Lady Ashford indicated otherwise—and in quite certain terms.’

‘Warned you off, did she? It’s to be expected. She had hopes once, you see … Well, never mind, that’s all ancient history.’ She leaned closer. ‘Jack is not approaching, is he?’

Lily carefully glanced over her shoulder. ‘No. He’s just moved past Mrs Montague. He doesn’t look at all happy to be here, I must say.’

He looked across and met her gaze right at that moment. Her composure abruptly deserted her. Face flaming, she nearly took a step backwards just from physical shock. Reminding herself to breathe, she wrenched her gaze from his, concentrating on his mother once more.

‘Good. Look at them.’ Lady Dayle indicated the gaggle of girls who were focused subtly, and in some cases downright overtly, on her son. ‘It’s because he’s so elusive, I suppose.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a rare enough occasion that his brother or I can convince him to attend an event such as this. And with his name being bandied about lately after that contretemps at the Egyptian Hall, he seems to have become even more interesting.’

Lily stared thoughtfully at the hopeful girls. ‘I assume Mr Alden enjoys the attention,’ she mused.

‘I wish he did,’ Lady Dayle said flatly. ‘Truthfully, I don’t think he has the faintest notion of their interest. A fact that I believe sometimes spurs the young ladies on.’ She sighed. ‘He presents something of a challenge.’

Lily glanced carefully back in Mr Alden’s direction. She might feel a bit of sympathy for him, if she could believe him to be as unmindful of them all as his mother thought. But her own experience had shown him to be intelligent and a keen observer.

She shook her head. She did not believe it. Mr Alden simply could not be oblivious to the fervent interest directed his way. Not even he could be so selfishly unaware.

Only consider their last encounter. Her desire to accompany her mother and Lady Ashford on their trip had been obvious, yet he had not hesitated to thwart her. The thought that he might toy with these girls in a similar fashion only fuelled her aggravation with him.

Lady Dayle had turned to glance behind her. ‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Here he comes now.’

‘Good evening, Mother. Miss Beecham.’ Mr Alden bowed low. Her heart thundering in her ears, Lily made her curtsy and tried not to notice the way the candlelight glinted off his thick dark hair.

‘I do not have to ask if you ladies are enjoying yourselves,’ he continued. ‘Our hostess has already informed me and anyone else who would listen that Miss Beecham found herself transported by the music tonight. She is touting it as a sure sign of the success of the evening.’

Lily raised her eyebrows. ‘Mrs Montague has no need of my approval, but I should be happy to provide it. The music tonight has been stunningly beautiful—I am sure I am not the only one to be so moved.’

‘You were the only one moved to tears, it would seem.’ He spoke politely, but Lily thought she caught the hint of disapproval in Mr Alden’s tone. He looked to the viscountess. ‘I hope that you warned her, Mother—’

‘Warned me?’ Lily interrupted.

He glanced about as if to be sure no one listened. ‘I understand that you have been little in society, Miss Beecham—’

He got no further before Lily interrupted him. ‘Pray do not concern yourself, Mr Alden.’ She tossed her head. ‘I believe we established your inexperience with women of my stamp during our last conversation.’

His mouth quirked. ‘Your stamp, Miss Beecham?’

She glared at him over her drink. ‘Yes, sir. My stamp. My education has not been limited to embroidering samplers and learning a smattering of French. Besides charitable work, my mother and I have duties to the lands my father left and the families upon it.’

‘Very commendable, I am sure—’ he began.

‘Thank you,’ she interrupted. ‘Though you may smirk, you would be shocked at the lists of tasks that must be seen to on a daily basis, all while attempting to persuade the land steward that there is no shame in consulting a woman on crop rotation and field drainage. In the same vein, I have occasionally had to cajole proud but hungry tenants into taking a loan so that they may feed their families. I’ve been called to coax the sick into taking their medicine, persuade duelling matrons into working together on a charity drive and I have even spoken publicly against the evils of slavery. I think you can trust me to keep my foot out of my mouth at a musical evening.’

Mr Alden did not appear to be impressed. ‘All quite admirable, Miss Beecham, but you’ve never before encountered London society, and that is a different animal altogether.’

‘People are people, Mr Alden.’

‘Unfortunately not. In society you will encounter mind-numbingly bored people—arguably the most dangerous sort. You must understand, they are looking for something, anything, to divert them. I would not wish to see you targeted as a new plaything. Ridiculing a new arrival, painting her as a hopeless rustic, ruining her chances of acceptance—for many this is naught but an amusing pastime.’

Lily stared. Fate, chance and the heavens had finally conspired to set her free—at least for a few fleeting weeks—and he thought to tell her how to go on? It was the last straw. Jack Alden needed to be taught a lesson, and without a doubt Lily had enough of her old spirit left to be the one to give it to him.

She straightened her shoulders. When she had been young and in the grip of this determined mood, her mother had told her that she was worse than a wilful nag. Well, she had the bit in her teeth now. Jack Alden was a fraud. He showed the world a mask, exhibiting nothing but dispassion and uninterest, but worse lay underneath. He was as quick to condemn as the most judgemental of society’s scandalmongers. Well, Lily would give him a taste of his own, and she highly doubted he would enjoy the flavour of either uninterest or censure.

‘Jack, dear,’ the viscountess spoke before Lily could. ‘Do you really think I would allow Lily to do herself harm?’ She cocked her head at her son. ‘And in any case, I do not think you are in a position to speak to anyone about calm and rational conduct, not when you consider your own erratic temper over the last few weeks.’

He had the grace to redden a bit, but he ignored the jab at his own behaviour. ‘Well, there is that old Eastern philosophy—the one in which a person who saves a life becomes responsible for it thereafter.’

‘Let us not forget that you were driving the vehicle that threatened me,’ Lily said. ‘In fact, you saved me from yourself.’ She raised a challenging eyebrow. ‘What does your philosophy say about that?’

‘Oh, dear,’ Lady Dayle intervened. ‘If you two are going to squabble like cats, then I am off to speak with Lord Dearham. He is a great lover of music …’ she cast her son a speaking look ‘… unlike others I could name.’ Patting Lily affectionately, she said, ‘I shall meet you back at our seats when the music begins again, shall I?’

Lily watched her go before turning back to her victim. ‘If you do not enjoy music, Mr Alden, then I confess I am curious to hear why you would attend a musical evening.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘In fact, I do like music. But my mother will not forgive me for eschewing the operas that she so admires. I find that sort of entertainment too … tempestuous.’

‘I see,’ Lily said reflectively. ‘Not having experienced the opera myself, I must reserve judgement. Still, one wonders if something other than the music drew your interest here tonight.’

He stiffened, obviously a little puzzled by her hostility. ‘You are very perceptive, Miss Beecham.’ He glanced after Lady Dayle. ‘I find that I’m quite interested in the Evangelicals. I would like to know more about them.’

Lily lifted her chin. ‘We are not specimens to be examined, Mr Alden.’
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