Four Calling Cards Read online

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m leading.” He easily plucked the punch glasses from her stunned grasp and set them on the table. “Shall we?”

  He held out his hand expectantly, and Sabrina slowly put her hand in his. They were muscular and well defined, and without the hindrance of gloves, his clasp was warm. He pulled gently and she had no choice but to follow.

  When he moved them into position and he set his hand at her waist, Sabrina’s breath caught. She glanced around at the other couples and realized that they were gaining quite a bit of attention. She would have liked to think it was because they made a handsome pair, but she knew it was because, standing next to the viscount in all his black and white finery, she looked rather dowdy in her plain brown dress. She had been meant to fade into the wallpaper, and for the past six months she had. No one looked twice at a woman who wasn’t dressed in the finest silks made by the best seamstresses in London.

  So why had he?

  Chapter Three

  It didn’t take long for Edward to learn that Sabrina had told the truth about her lack of dancing instruction. But after a bit of awkwardness at the beginning, she caught on rather quickly. But it didn’t matter if she trod upon his toes for the entirety. It was worth it to look into her lovely amber eyes and hold her in his arms. He yearned to draw her closer, but that would be overstepping and he didn’t wish to engage the wrong impression.

  Unfortunately, he was at a loss of what to say. Empty conversation had never been his forte, which was why he wasn’t that good with the opposite sex. His brother had excelled at flattery and praise, but Edward had always been under the impression that he shouldn’t say anything if it wasn’t the absolute truth, or absolutely necessary. He didn’t want to be known as a fop who liked to hear the sound of his own voice.

  However, since it was commonplace to converse with one’s partner, he said the first thing that came to mind. “Are you enjoying the ball?”

  When Miss Everhart’s lips twisted somewhat ironically, he realized that the question had been rather foolish. She was a paid companion to Lady Warably. Of course she wasn’t enjoying herself. But instead of replying with the truth, she merely said, “It’s very…” She hesitated and glanced around the festive interior, and then fastened those enchanting eyes back on his face. “Green.”

  She smiled, and Edward’s blood began to race in his veins. He couldn’t recall having such a strong, urgent reaction to a woman before. Granted, he’d had his share of liaisons like any young buck out of school with little responsibilities, but as he’d matured, Edward had kept his dalliances rather brief. Now that he thought of it, it had been some time since he’d shared a woman’s bed, which was why he must be feeling so strongly toward Miss Everhart. He was smart enough not to confuse lust with anything more, which was surely all he was feeling at the moment.

  But then, when he looked into her eyes, it was as if something… changed in the middle of his chest. “I agree, it is very… green,” he murmured, recalling her previous statement. “But it is the Christmas season, so we will undoubtedly see more of the same in the coming days. Londoners love to celebrate the holidays.”

  She shrugged lightly. “I never was very fond of Christmas.”

  His brows lifted. “Indeed?”

  “My father was a vicar,” she went on to explain. “He thought such pagan celebrations were unnecessary, that the single thing people should focus on was the birth of Christ. We never exchanged gifts. On Christmas morning, we read scripture.”

  “Not even when you were a child?”

  She shook her head. “No. He forbade it, and because my mother didn’t wish to cross him, taught that she should always be submissive to her husband, she never questioned him. She died when I was seven, and after that, things only got worse.”

  He frowned. “How?”

  “He was so focused on doing the right thing by God that he didn’t consider my fate. He never allowed me to associate with any of the boys from the village after school for fear that I would sin. But then, he probably never imagined that he would fall ill and I would spend all of our meager savings to keep us fed. Not long after he died, destitute and no way to earn a proper wage on my own, I received a letter from Lady Warably, and here I am.” She paused and gave a slight laugh. “I’m not exactly sure why I found it necessary to pour out my life story to a complete stranger, but I suppose it’s because, as awful as Lady Warably can appear to be, I am indebted to her from keeping me off the streets where I would be forced to endure a decidedly worse situation.”

  Silence fell as Edward digested all she had said. It sounded as though she’d led a rather lonely life. Although he had both of his parents until adulthood, and a younger brother to share any personal burdens, his father’s gruff and salacious nature had been difficult to bear. Edward still felt that was what had killed his mother. His father had broken her heart as surely as if he’d shot her point blank in the chest.

  The dance came to a close and for a moment, both of them regarded the other, not sure what to say after such a thoughtful encounter. Edward extended his arm without a word and led her back to the refreshment table so she could retrieve her punch. There, he released her and bowed slightly. “It was a pleasure, Miss Everhart.”

  He could tell she doubted that, but she curtsied and said demurely, “Indeed, Lord Rundell. Thank you for the dance.”

  ***

  Sabrina watched as the viscount turned and walked away, quickly getting swallowed up by the crowd.

  “Where have you been? Lady Hurrandy is quite parched!”

  She gasped, turning to confront Lady Warably and her furious expression. She had her hands on her hips and was glaring at her like a recalcitrant child. Sabrina told herself, once again, that this woman had saved her from an uncertain fate, that she should be grateful, but she was so much like her father that it made her grit her teeth.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Warably.” Sabrina took two glasses of punch and handed one to her mistress. “Lord Rundell—”

  That was all she managed to say before the lady harrumphed. “If you are referring to that shameful display on the dance floor, then yes, I witnessed it. I thought I made it quite clear that there is no need to set your cap for the viscount.”

  “I had no intention of doing so, my lady. He—”

  “Since you cannot behave in the manner of a proper lady, but rather that of a country harridan, I see I shall have to keep a closer eye on you in order to lessen some of the damage you’ve wrought. Now, come along.”

  The countess turned and didn’t look back, expecting Sabrina to follow, which of course, she did. She had no other choice. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t exasperated with the entire affair. Since when had it become a crime to dance with a member of the opposite sex? Sabrina might not be an heiress and wear the latest fashions, far from it, but she was well bred. Her father had been the third son of a baron and her mother the daughter of a viscount. How did that make her unworthy of a gentleman’s attentions?

  For the rest of the evening, Sabrina sat demurely behind her mistress. She would eye the dancers from time to time and imagine that she would see Lord Rundell among the crowd, but she couldn’t ever be sure.

  At long last, the countess rose to her feet. “Come along, Miss Everhart. I’m ready to retire for the night.”

  Sabrina was grateful, for she would rather stare at the wallpaper in her modest bedchamber, rather than continue searching the expanse for a man that would never even matter.

  They gathered their wraps and waited in the foyer for Lady Warably’s carriage to be brought around.

  “Leaving already?”

  Sabrina jumped at the sound of the deep, murmured voice near her ear. Her eyes lit on Lord Rundell and she had a moment of surprise that he would have sought her out once more. Then again, she imagined that he was merely passing by and caught sight of them preparing to depart.

  She glanced toward the countess, who hadn’t yet noticed the viscount’s presence. “Lady Warably doesn’t stay out very late. She has several… ailments that prevent her from doing so.” Sabrina nearly stumbled over the lie. Ailments, indeed. They were more like preconceived notions that she’d invented.

  “I see.” His lips twisted, as if he truly did understand her plight. “In that case, would it be possible to call upon you tomorrow?”

  Sabrina’s mouth went lax yet again. “I’m not sure that would be a… good idea, Lord Rundell.”

  He frowned slightly, and she couldn’t help but find herself completely fascinated by the single wrinkle that appeared on his forehead. “Why ever not?”

  “I—”

  “Lord Rundell.”

  Sabrina yearned to sigh at the interruption, for the countess had the most annoying sense of timing.

  “How good of you to see us off—” She shot Sabrina an impatient glare. “—but we shouldn’t wish to keep you from the entertainment.” She grabbed hold of Sabrina’s arm none too gently. “Come along now, Miss Everhart. The carriage awaits.”

  Sabrina shot Lord Rundell an apologetic look, and one that hopefully, spoke volumes about why it wouldn’t be prudent for him to call, even though it was something she would have liked very much.

  ***

  Edward tugged at his cravat, loosening the knot as he walked into his study, and then removed his jacket and threw it over the side of the settee. He crossed to his desk and sat down in his chair to confront the four calling cards in front of him. With his hands steepled before him, he deduced that, after this evening, neither Lady Constance Acton, nor any of the other women on his bridal list would do as a potential life partner. It had been an empty quest from the beginning, for once he’d met Miss Sabrina Everhart, everything had changed.

  He couldn’t imagine how he might have missed her in the past six months that she’d been in London, but then, he’d not been actively seeking a wife then, nor had he paid attention to the wallflowers and matrons lining the walls at ton events. And since it was apparent that she was firmly under Lady Warably’s thumb at all times, there had been no reason for them to have met before.

  But now that they had…

  Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and told himself to forget the enchanting chit with those amber eyes. While this evening had reminded him of the scandal surrounding Lady Constance, in that she had run off with one of her father’s footmen for an afternoon, after which the brief affair had been quickly patched up and nearly forgotten, Edward forced himself to focus on the other three candidates before him. After a brief conversation with Lady Constance, which proved what he’d already imagined, that she was a rather self-centered individual, he tore her card in half and decided that Lady Gwendolyn Hockley would be his next potential conquest. He imagined it wouldn’t take long to discount a girl who reminded him of his favorite steed, but he vowed to keep an open mind. Personality could go a long way. Some men might prefer an empty-headed wife to bend to their will, but he wanted someone who could be his equal and carry on a decent conversation at the breakfast table without focusing all of her talents on the latest fashion plates.

  He shuddered, just imagining the scenario. No doubt such a lady would insist on bringing some sort of small, hairy mongrel into the house as well. His father would likely have an apoplexy at the thought. And since the earl spent most of his time with Edward, that could be a problem. But when he married, Edward had already decided to retire to their country estate. He’d had enough of London society. It had never been his forte. He tolerated it for his sire, but if he were forced to embark on this journey of impending fatherhood, he wished to do it in peace.

  He riffled through the list of invitations for the next evening and decided on a rather intimate musicale. Perhaps that would give him more time to engage with the chit on a more personal level.

  Now that his future was settled, Edward rose to his feet and decided it was time to retire, but first, it was a quick stop at the library. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. The worn copy of Guy Mannering was one of his favorites. Since its release three years prior, the novel had become a great success, following in the footsteps of its predecessor, Waverley. Of course, he’d always had to read the stories in secret, for his father would likely fall over dead at the thought of his son reading something that didn’t improve the mind. And honestly, he’d just wanted to keep harmony in the house.

  However, after he’d finally stood up to the earl on his brother’s behalf, he’d found that the atmosphere had greatly improved. His father, while still rather vocal and opinionated, had toned down his blustery attitude somewhat.

  At least until he’d gone to Bath, giving Edward that ridiculous ultimatum upon his departure.

  With the novel in his grasp, he headed upstairs, determined to quiet his father’s adamant voice in his mind for a time.

  Chapter Four

  Sabrina had always enjoyed musicales much more than balls, for it didn’t make her feel quite so singled out for everyone was seated. And tonight, with Christmas soon approaching, the feeling of the festive season was in the air. She’d glanced at the program upon arriving and was pleased to find that most of the songs that were to be performed that evening were carols. Like the night before at the Mayfield Ball, the interior of the music room at the Torrance house was decorated with boughs of evergreen and several lit candles placed throughout the room.

  Sabrina would have considered it to be magical — if it wasn’t for Lady Warably’s continual complaints. First, the carriage ride was too bumpy, and then the warming brick at her feet had cooled off entirely too quickly. Upon arrival, it was the disappointment in the refreshments, for none of them were to her liking. At this point, Sabrina found that it was better to just nod and agree rather than try to extol the good things one could find in the evening, but then, that would be a lost cause.

  The countess always insisted that they sit at the back of the room, in case she needed to “use the necessary,” so they found a pair of seats and settled in to wait for the assemblage to do the same.

  Sabrina chose to peruse her program once more when the fine hairs on her neck suddenly began to prickle with awareness. Curious, she glanced up and her heart did a somersault in her chest when she saw Lord Rundell moving into place in the seat directly in front of her. Slightly annoyed that he would be obstructing most of her view, she was more aggrieved to see that he was escorting someone.

  Sabrina’s nose scrunched slightly when she saw the layers of pink taffeta. But when she saw the poor girl’s face, she realized such a hideous gown was meant to distract from her rather long chin. Beauty could come in many shapes and forms, but it was truly a test for some. Sabrina, herself, would never claim to be a stunning beauty, especially dressed in the plain gowns that the countess insisted that she wear. The drab gray she currently wore was better suited to a governess than a companion, but she had figured out long ago to let that particular argument lie.

  In truth, she was more surprised to find Lord Rundell escorting the lady. But as they settled themselves, she found that he was quite attentive and charming, and the blush the girl wore matched her gown perfectly.

  Only as the viscount began to look around did he turn his head and lock eyes with Sabrina. She hastily glanced away, but she could tell he shifted to better see her. “Ah, Miss Everhart.” He inclined his head, forcing her to acknowledge him. “And Lady Warably.”

  “Lord Rundell.” Tonight the countess wore a pleasant expression, no doubt thanks to the lady at the viscount’s side. Otherwise, Sabrina would have had to listen to another lecture this evening about proper comportment with the opposite sex, a conversation that still made Sabrina roll her eyes, although she dared not express her true opinion around the lady. Instead, she’d sat through it all with a serene expression and reminded herself, yet again, that it was better than living on the streets.

  Sabrina thought the interaction was over now that the pleasantries had been exchanged, but he surprised her by saying, “Have you met, Lady Gwendolyn Hockley?”

  The girl turned to her with an incline of her head and a slight smile. “How do you do?”

  Sabrina found her to be rather charming and she liked the girl instantly. Even if Lady Gwen would never be considered a great beauty, she hoped that some man snapped her up for her endearing qualities and treated her with respect. She’d learned, long ago, that outer beauty was almost always on the surface, and if one possessed money, then it was even worse.

  “Do you enjoy musicales, my lady?” Sabrina asked, hoping that she wore an expression to put the girl at ease. She appeared so out of sorts.

  “Very much. I play the pianoforte.”

  “How lovely. Perhaps you might sneak in a surprise performance for us,” Sabrina teased.

  “Oh, no.” She immediately shook her head. “I would be too shy to play in front of such a large crowd.” She glanced about the room and Sabrina saw what she meant. The room was nearly at capacity with servants bringing out more chairs.

  “Who knows?” Sabrina shrugged. “You might just surprise yourself.”

  Lady Gwen seemed to consider this, but as there was a sound at the front of the room, signaling the entertainment was about to begin, she turned to face the first performance. Lord Rundell did the same, but not after he caught and held Sabrina’s gaze just a little bit longer.

  ***

  The clapping reached Edward’s ears, which caused him to raise his hands and do the same, although he’d been so preoccupied during the piano recital that he scarcely knew if it was good or not. At the moment, he was at a crossroads. For the first time in his life he felt shame for his behavior. Although he hadn’t said it out loud to his companion, he’d imagined that this evening would be rather unbearable. Not only that, but the rather uncharitable thoughts he’d harbored over her outward appearance meant nothing compared to the lady herself.