Cinderella in the Regency Ballroom: Her Cinderella Season / Tall, Dark and Disreputable
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‘Women are perfectly able to understand and embrace such issues, Mr Alden.’ Now Lily bristled at the thought of this dangerously intelligent and handsome man negating the causes she had worked for.
‘I agree, Miss Beecham. In fact, in encouraging such participation, I would say that the Evangelicals have opened the political process to a far wider public.’
Understanding dawned. She cast a bright smile on him. ‘Yes, of course you are correct,’ Lily said, turning to her mother. ‘You see, Mother, I have petitioned for change, educated people about the work that needs done and laboured myself for the common good. What is a little trip through Kent when compared to all of that?’
‘That was not my point,’ Mr Alden interrupted. ‘On the contrary, I counsel you ladies to proceed with caution. People are noticing the good that you have accomplished. But if they begin to suspect that Evangelicals encourage women to rise beyond their station—not my words, by the way—then you could have a public uprising on your hands.’
‘Like the Blagdon Controversy,’ breathed Mrs Beecham, referring to the extensive public outcry against Hannah More’s Sunday Schools as dangerous and ‘Methodist’.
‘It could be far worse,’ Mr Alden said. ‘Women do not rate any higher on the Church of England’s scale than Methodists.’
‘Thank you, Mr Alden,’ Lady Ashford intoned. ‘You have given us a great deal to consider. We shall proceed with care.’ She fixed a stern gaze on Lily. ‘You can see that it would indeed be best for you to stay home, Miss Beecham. Old warhorses like your mother and I are one thing. We would not wish to be accused of corrupting young ladies.’
Lily lowered her gaze. Hurt and dismay congealed in her throat, choking off any protest. She barely knew Mr Alden; it was ridiculous to feel this bone-deep sense of betrayal. But she could not stem it, any more than she could hold back the rising tide of anger in her breast. She raised her head and met Mr Alden’s gaze with a steely one of her own.
‘I cannot see where sending Miss Beecham home on the mail coach is any kinder or gentler than carting her around Surrey.’ Mr Alden’s eyes never left hers as he spoke. ‘Clearly, the best thing for her to do is to remain here.’
Lily forgave the irritating man everything on the spot. ‘Oh, yes! What a marvellous idea!’
Lily’s mother sniffed. ‘Well, I cannot see that a residence with a single gentleman in London is any less dangerous than one in Faversham.’
‘But the Bartleighs, Mother!’ Lily exclaimed.
Lady Ashford sent her an enquiring look and she hastened to explain. ‘Very dear friends of ours, from home,’ she said. ‘They are due to arrive in London soon, for a short stay. Mother, you know they would not mind if I stayed with them.’
‘Lilith Beecham,’ her mother scolded, ‘the Bartleighs are travelling to town to consult with the doctors here, not to chaperon you. I wouldn’t ask it of them, even if they were due to arrive before we are gone, which they are not.’
But Lady Dayle was nearly jumping out of her seat. ‘Oh, but Lily must stay with me! You need not worry, Mrs Beecham, for Jack has his own bachelor’s rooms. I scarcely see him at the best of times, and now he talks of burying himself in his books for his next research project.’
Lily watched her mother and began to hope.
‘It will be just Miss Beecham and I,’ the viscountess continued. ‘How perfect! She can help to introduce me to some of the worthy causes you ladies support, and I can introduce her a little to society.’
Lily’s heart sank. That had been the absolute wrong thing to suggest.
‘We are honoured by your invitation, my lady, but I do not wish for Lilith to go into society.’ Her mother’s mouth had pressed so tight that her lips had disappeared.
‘Come now, dear Margaret.’ The unexpected, coaxing tone came from Lady Ashford. ‘It will not do the girl any harm to gain a little polish. She’ll likely need it in the future.’
Her mother hesitated. Lily’s heart was pounding, but she kept her eyes demurely down. The moment of silence stretched out, until she thought her nerves would shatter.
‘I shall ask my dear daughter Corinne to help with the girl,’ Lady Ashford said. ‘You know that she and her husband are familiar with the right people. Although she is too far along in her confinement to take the girl herself, they will know just the events that a girl like Lilith will do well at.’
‘Yes, of course, nothing fast or too tonnish,’ said Lady Dayle in reassuring tones. ‘Perhaps a literary or musical evening.’
Her mother heaved a great sigh. ‘Very well,’ she said ungraciously.
‘Oh,’ breathed Lily. ‘Thank you, Mother.’
Lady Dayle was positively gleeful. ‘Oh, we shall have a grand time getting to know one another, my dear.’
Lady Ashford knew when to call a retreat. She stood. ‘Well, it has been a long and tiring day and I must still see to the tally of the day’s profits. I’m sure that Mrs Beecham and her daughter will both do better for a good night’s rest.’ She inclined her head. ‘Thank you, Elenor, for the tea and for your interest.’
The farewells were made. Lily returned the viscountess’s embrace and agreed to meet to make plans on the morrow. She approached her son with a cautious step and a wary glance. ‘Mr Alden, I scarcely know what to say to you.’
She flinched a little at the disapproval she glimpsed in his expression. But then she squared her shoulders. She had faced disapprobation nearly every day for years. Why should his stab any deeper?
‘Thank you for everything that you have done for me today,’ she said with a smile, ‘Even though I’m sure some of it was quite unintentional.’
He bowed. ‘I am very happy to have met you, Miss Beecham. It has been an … interesting experience.’
Once again he had donned that impenetrable mask. It saddened her, this barrier that she could not breach. Earlier today he had handled a difficult situation with humour and ease. But now he only looked worldly and cynical. How disappointing. He obviously possessed a great mind. She suspected he also possessed a sense of justice, perhaps even a thoughtful nature, but how could she know for sure?
This was her chance. Lily knew there would still be restrictions, but she could not suppress this glorious feeling of freedom. For a few weeks she would be able to relax, to give her true nature free rein. Perhaps if she was very lucky she might even find a position, or, she blushed, a suitor. Anything to supplant her mother’s idea for her future.
Lily knew she owed Mr Alden for this chance, and, indeed, she was grateful. But staring into his closed countenance, she knew she had no time to waste on him.
‘Goodbye,’ she whispered. She turned wistfully away and followed her mother out the door.
Lady Dayle chattered happily for a few minutes after her guests had left. Jack listened to her, content to see her so excited about the coming weeks. When the servants came in to clear, he rose, kissed her goodbye and let the butler show him out. The door clicked closed behind him. Jack stood for a long moment on the step, breathing deep in the cold evening air.
The girl was from Dorset. He was going to do it—he was going to find Matthew Beecham, who would lead him to Batiste. He no longer knew if it was truly justice he sought, or some twisted sort of redemption. He no longer cared. He was going to quiet the roiling furore that had turned his existence upside down.
It would take some delicate manoeuvring, he was sure. He was going to have to proceed very carefully. He was more than a little disturbed by his own actions. Right now he stood, evaluating his options with reason and purpose. That had not been the case in there.
He’d done what he could to manipulate the situation in his favour. And he’d succeeded. But one minute he’d been speaking like a man of sense and the next Lily Beecham had been glaring at him with accusation in her lovely face.
It had done something to him. His brain had shut down with a nearly audible click. He had spoken up to fix the situation with her goal in mind as much as his, and with an overwhelming desire to remove the wealth of hurt in her eyes.
It was a very dangerous precedent. It had been an unthinking response, an action dictated by emotion. Clearly this was a very dangerous girl.
Yet having recognised his weakness, he was armed against it. He would proceed, as he always did, with logic and reason as his weapons. And a healthy dose of caution as his shield.
Chapter Four
Lily closed her eyes and let her heart soar with the music. Happiness filled her and she didn’t even try to stem it—the ascending harmonies matched her mood so perfectly.
The last several days spent with Lady Dayle had been full—and incredibly fulfilling. The pair of them had shopped a little, and explored much of what the city had to offer. Lily had lost herself in fine art and turned her skin brown picnicking in the parks. They had encountered Miss Dawson again and Lily had struck up a fast friendship with the young lady, and she’d coaxed her into showing her all the fashionable—and safe—areas of the city.
Lily had laughed at the raucous prints lining the shop windows and lusted after the huge selections in the bookstores. Best of all, she had spent endless hours talking and talking with the viscountess. Seven years of questions, comments and contemplations had bubbled up and out of her and Lady Dayle had matched her word for word. And though she did not share in it completely, the viscountess had not once chastised her for her boundless energy or curiosity.
Lily had not forgotten her end of the bargain either. She’d taken Lady Dayle along to several meetings of charitable societies and introduced her to the hard-working, generous people who ran them. The viscountess appeared happy to be wading into these new waters, getting her feet wet and judging which of the endless charitable opportunities interested her most.
Tonight, though, came Lily’s first society outing. Lady Dayle had indeed chosen a musical evening. All about her sat people who took pleasure in each other and in the beauty of the music, and finally Lily felt the last of her restraints fall away. Her spirits flew free to follow the intricate melodies of the string quartet. Even the gradual darkening of the piece could not shake her enjoyment. The beauty of the mournful finish echoed within her and when the last haunting chord faded away she sat silent a moment, relishing it, and ignoring the silent stream of tears down her face.
‘Oh, my dear,’ Lady Dayle said kindly. She pressed Lily’s hand and passed her a linen handkerchief.
Lily smiled her thanks and dried her eyes. She was attracting attention. Two ladies behind the viscountess smiled indulgently at her, but further away she could see others watching with their heads together or talking behind their hands. She raised her chin. ‘That was absolutely beautiful, was it not, my lady?’
‘Indeed it was,’ agreed Lady Dayle. She got to her feet as the rest of the guests rose.
‘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.’
‘Nor do I think so,’ he replied easily. ‘My brother mentioned their works and their intriguing notions on how to reform society.’ He shrugged. ‘I am here to learn.’
‘You chose well, then. There are several influential Evangelicals here tonight.’ She nodded across the room. ‘Mr Macaulay, in fact, would be an ideal person for you to speak with. I dare say he can tell you everything you need to know.’ She smiled ingratiatingly. ‘He looks to be free right now.’
‘Yes, he does indeed.’ He smiled and she received the distinct impression that he was trying to win her over. ‘But I came over here seeking a restful companion.’ His gaze wandered briefly over her. As if he had physically touched her, Lily felt her skin twitch and tingle in its wake. She had to fight to keep him from seeing how he affected her. ‘May I say,’ he continued with an incline of his head, ‘that I could not have found a lovelier one.’
‘Thank you.’ She kept her tone absent, as if his compliment had not set off a warm glow in her chest. ‘I should think that this line of inquiry is very different from your usual research. Your mother tells me that you are a notable scholar.’
He nodded.
‘You mentioned the ancients at our late supper a few days ago. Is that your area of specialty?’
‘Yes, ancient civilisations.’
She eyed him shrewdly. ‘I imagine you find it much easier to shut yourself up and study people of long ago than to deal with them in person. Real people can be so … tempestuous.’