Courtship In The Regency Ballroom: His Cinderella Bride / Devilish Lord, Mysterious Miss

‘Snelgrove, did I hear your name was?’ He held out a hand, forcing the man into either ignoring his overture, or relinquishing his grip on Lady Hester’s elbow. ‘I am Lensborough. I dare say you have heard of me.’

After the briefest of hesitations, the man let go of Lady Hester to shake his hand. ‘Friend of the family, are you?’

There was an awkward pause. Hester still did not appear to have the ability to move as yet, let alone frame a coherent introduction.

‘Mr Snelgrove is a distant relative of mine,’ Miss Dean supplied. ‘He arrived unexpectedly last night.’

On a repairing lease, no doubt, Lord Lensborough thought, taking in the waxy countenance and bloodshot eyes that betokened a life of dissipation. ‘Do you stay long in the district?’ he inquired, taking a pace into the room. In order to continue the conversation, Snelgrove had to turn away from Lady Hester slightly.

‘As long as necessary, my lord. It all depends.’

To his relief, he saw a tide of angry colour rush into Lady Hester’s face, her fists clenching at her sides when Snelgrove glanced her way, grinning.

‘I have many old friends in this area, with whom I wish to renew…links. Lady Hester’s brother was a very dear friend of mine, and I used to run tame in this house during school vacations. Sadly I have not been able to return since the funeral, but now that I am here I had hoped to make up for that omission.’

‘You lost a brother, too, Lady Hester?’ Lord Lensborough’s voice was gentle.

Hester managed to open her mouth, but no sound came out. How could he sound so sympathetic when she had ridden roughshod over his own grief?

‘Alas, he died about six years ago,’ Lady Gregory piped up. ‘A terrible tragedy.’ She looked nervously at Lord Lensborough, then meaningfully at Hester as she went on, ‘We never speak of it…it is too upsetting.’

He looked at Hester, whose face was pale as milk yet again. ‘Forgive me, Lady Hester, for intruding on your grief.’ He spun towards Mr Snelgrove abruptly, turning his back to her.

‘You know the area well, I take it, since you spent so much time here in your youth?’ He began to stroll towards the window, indicating the vast empty moorlands with a sweep of his arm. Snelgrove trailed in his wake reluctantly. He clearly did not wish to move away from Hester, but nor did he dare to defy a marquis in mid-flow.

‘Yes, I do, my lord.’

‘And you ride.’ He paused by the window, hands clasped together behind his back. ‘I would very much like to explore the locality. What I have seen of it is quite intriguing. Perhaps you would care to act as my guide? I have brought a couple of my hunters with me, and so far I fear they have not had much exercise.’

Snelgrove was hooked. There was not a man who’d ever placed a bet on a horse who had not heard of the Marquis of Lensborough’s stables. He would not pass up the chance to ride one of his own hunters. And then, he thought with contempt, he would dine out on the story for weeks.

He felt rather than saw Lady Hester move to a chair and sink into it, and sighed with contentment. He had never felt such satisfaction in knowing that his actions had brought comfort to another person, but then, neither had he experienced such a strong urge to protect a female before.

Lady Hester sighed with relief as Lord Lensborough launched into a detailed account of the pedigree of the horses he had brought with him, while Lionel drank it all in. Her lips twisted in bitter humour. Typical that the two men in the world that she loathed the most should hit it off instantly. But she was not about to complain. That coincidence had bought her a temporary reprieve. With any luck, Lord Lensborough would keep droning on about his stables until it was time for Mr Snelgrove to leave. And now that she knew he was in the area…She bit her lower lip. He had dropped enough hints about gypsies to let her know he would blow her cousins’ ambitions out of the water if she did not bend to his will. The only way to prevent him from blackmailing her was to keep well out of his sight.

As she glared at Lord Lensborough’s back, he half-turned, and ran his eyes over her just once, briefly, as if to ascertain her condition. When she bristled, he nodded, as if satisfied, and turned back to Snelgrove. It all happened so quickly that Hester could not be sure she had not imagined it. If she had not known better, she might have assumed that he was checking up on her, as if he had been sensitive to her distress, and had drawn Lionel away from her, and was keeping him at his side for her benefit.

That could not possibly be. Lord Lensborough notice something that had been hidden from her close family? Absurd. He was far too self-absorbed; she was just so shaken by Lionel’s sudden reappearance, her imagination had run away with her. She was seeing Lensborough as her saviour because she had been desperate for one, that was all.

‘I am glad to see you two are getting along so well!’ Lady Gregory suddenly remarked, her eyes fixed on the two men chatting by the window. ‘You must dine with us one evening, Lionel. You, too, Miss Dean, of course. You can walk over from the vicarage together.’

Hester sprang to her feet. All she wanted to do was avoid Lionel and the stupid woman had invited him into her home!

‘Oh…’ Em caught her eye ‘…I am sure you cannot want us to intrude upon a family party.’

‘Nonsense.’ Lady Gregory blithely swept her protestations aside. ‘We already have Lord Lensborough and his friend come among us. Another couple at the table can only serve to enliven things. In fact, it would be a very good thing if you were to join us, because then we should have enough couples to get up some dancing. It would be a lovely way to round off the house party. Say Wednesday evening? Lady Moulton’s last night with us?’

‘Oh, yes, Mama, the very thing,’ Julia cried, clapping her hands in delight.

‘Come on, Em,’ Lionel drawled, prowling over to where she sat, gazing with concern at Hester’s obvious distress. ‘Don’t say no. Your father will be glad for you to have a chance to get out and enjoy yourself for once. He won’t thank you for using his infirmity as an excuse to stop at home. Besides, everyone is relying on us to make up the numbers. And I for one will be only too glad of the chance,’ he said, looking keenly at Hester, ‘to oblige the ladies.’

Lady Gregory followed the direction of his gaze, and a vexed expression flitted across her brow. ‘Hester, dear…’ her brow cleared ‘…would you mind having a word with cook right away? I know the invitation is for Wednesday, but these things take time to arrange. You will need to get a room prepared for dancing. Well—’ she smiled ‘—I am sure I do not need to tell you. You know exactly what to do.’ She nodded in a satisfied way as an expression of relief washed across Hester’s taut features.

This time, in tune with her true state of mind, Lord Lensborough appreciated what Lady Gregory had done. She had given Hester the excuse she badly needed to leave the room without having to speak to Snelgrove again. She was protecting her shy niece.

He recalled, with a chill, the number of times over the past few days various members of her family had sent her from the room on the most paltry of errands when he had been trying to engage her in conversation. Could it possibly be that they had not been bent on thwarting her chances after all, but had been attempting to protect her…from him?

Chapter Seven

‘What on earth has come over you, Lensborough?’ Stephen enquired on Wednesday evening as he put the finishing touches to his neckcloth. ‘If you were to meet a cur like that in town, you would give him the cut direct.’

‘You wanted an excuse to visit the vicarage, did you not? I have provided it.’ Lord Lensborough had been so determined to prevent Snelgrove from getting anywhere near Hester that he had ridden over to Beckforth vicarage at first light the past two days and kept him hacking round the local countryside till all hours.

He had not repeated his foolish attempt to get her alone and flirt with her either. No. The way to win the trust of any nervous colt was to demonstrate that he posed no threat.

‘Since when did you put anyone else’s interests before your own?’ Stephen scoffed. ‘It strikes me you’re trying to prevent him from getting at Cinders. I saw the way he drooled over her in the library on Monday.’

‘Astute of you.’ Lensborough smiled. He was looking forward to this evening’s entertainment. Dancing would provide him with a legitimate opportunity to hold her in his arms.

‘You’re really going to make the poor relation an offer?’

He shrugged. ‘Why not? She will suit my purposes as well as either of her cousins.’

Stephen selected a ring, threaded it on to his finger and paused to admire the effect.

‘I hate to burst your bubble, Lensborough, but have you not noticed that she doesn’t like you?’

‘She doesn’t dislike me as much as she dislikes Snelgrove,’ he pointed out.

‘But you cannot want to marry a woman who does not like you.’

‘You talk a deal of nonsense at times, Stephen. What has liking to do with marriage? In fact, I would find it tedious to marry a woman who liked me too well.’ She was an intelligent woman. Even if she did not like him much, she would certainly like to become a marchioness.

‘I have a great deal to offer her,’ he reassured himself. ‘Instead of acting as unpaid housekeeper to her aunt, she will be mistress of her own establishment. And she will become a mother. She adores children.’

Stephen regarded his fingers steadily for several moments, before remarking, in a voice devoid of all inflection, ‘You know I wish you well, Lensborough. But marriage is…well, it lasts a long time. Not like taking a mistress whom you can pay off when you’ve had enough of her.’

‘If you are intending to say anything derogatory about Lady Hester, then I strongly advise you—don’t.’

For some reason this outburst brought the smile back to Stephen’s face. ‘Then I won’t,’ he said. ‘We’ll go down to dinner in silence if you like.’

And they did.

‘What is the matter, Hester?’ Em and Hester were standing by the piano, which had been moved to the Great Hall, sifting through the sheet music while the ladies waited for the gen-tlemen to join them. Hester had been pleased with the atmosphere the servants had managed to achieve at such short notice. There was fresh greenery everywhere, the pots and containers swathed with every kind of red material they had been able to lay their hands on. They had even resurrected several old-fashioned flambeaux and stuck them in iron wall sconces or the gauntleted hands of the suits of armour.

She had unearthed the primrose-satin ball gown left over from her Season in honour of the occasion, though she had taken the precaution of tacking a fichu into the indecently lowcut bodice. She had even taken pains to make sure all the accessories matched. The cream kid gloves and gold satin slippers she had bought in Bond Street were as good as new, since they had been packed away in tissue paper after only one outing. Mary, the head housemaid, had helped her pin up her hair with a matching set of gold-and-amber combs. The ensemble was not as up to date as her cousins’ creations, of course, but then she was not the one trying to attract the notice of a marquis.

‘You hardly spoke a word at dinner, and you still seem strained. Is the house party not going well?’