Lady Falls (Black Rose Trilogy) (8 page)

Her head swam with terror.

I could plead some kind of ignorance and swear it was all a silly game. 

I could. 

But I won’t.

Raven opened her eyes to study the ornate patterns pressed into the metal ceiling tiles above her bed.  Fear was not a familiar sensation and she dismissed it quickly.  “Mr. Warrick has never betrayed any sign of not being a gentleman.  Only a ninny jumps from a building that isn’t on fire.”

It was Phillip who had ended their embrace and set boundaries.  If he’d done otherwise, the debate in her head would flow differently but of all the lessons of the day, she decided that Phillip Warrick’s honor was without reproach.

The conventions were clear.  If a girl “set her cap” for a man, she must tread carefully.  If her pursuit was a clumsy and obvious thing and she failed to win the man’s heart, she would become an object of derision and pity.  But Raven knew that subtle maneuvers were not her forte.  Over and over her tutors had noted that she had never mastered anything at a walk.  Raven preferred to run, with the wind in her face and skirts flying out behind.

Why would love be any different?

Raven smiled at the simple logic of her heart’s desires.

She would do her best to behave, to please her guardian and hold her own, but she would win Phillip Warrick if she could and seize her chance for happiness with both hands.   

Chapter Seven

“I have an announcement, friends.” Lord Trent tapped his glass as he stood from the head of the dinner table.  “My ward has been the sole source of entertainments to our party so far and I find I could not be outdone.  The annual spring dance at a neighbor of ours looks to be cancelled at the last because of a house fire.  No lives lost though that will set the Snows back
financially for a generation or two.  In any case, I have received an urgent request to host the event to prevent the worst.”

“The worst?” Mr. Sheffield echoed, his voice tinged with sarcasm.  “Oh, yes.  Heaven forbid the local gentry is deprived of the chance to prance and bounce about in circles…”

The rest of the party’s reactions were immediate and varied, but Mr. Warrick looked only at her with the promise of a waltz in his gaze. 

“Dear God!” Lord Morley barked.  “What a nightmare!”

“Not so bad as that,” Mr. Carlton said with a smile.  “Country dances are the most charming affairs.”

“They certainly are!” Lady Baybrook chimed in.  “There is nothing untoward in the activity.  And despite what Mr. Sheffield indicates, no one bounces!”

“So our small country party will give way for a single night of revelry to the county’s finest families. If nothing else, the punch will be strong and plentiful,” Lord Trent said.  “I cannot recall the last time I made use of my ballroom.  One night of dancing will not destroy your health, Morley, and just think of the card game you could arrange, sir.”

“Cards?” Lord Morley cheered up instantly.  “It would be pleasant to have a few new faces at the table.”

“When is this grand favor to occur?” Lady Baybrook asked. 

“This Saturday.” Trent sat back down.  “I’ve already sent word that Oakwell Manor would serve.”

Four days. 
Raven’s eyes widened in shock.  She’d known vaguely of the local ball but since her attendance was always forbidden in preceding years, it was not an event she’d allowed herself to dwell on.  Now, it was coming to her doorstep and she was giddy with anticipation. 
Unless… 
“May I attend the dance, your lordship?” she asked.

“Of course!” Trent smiled.  “You are now of an age to enjoy such things and since I am the hero of the county for my generosity, why should my ward not expect to be the belle of the ball?”

Raven blushed, her mind immediately reeling through the dresses she had on hand for the occasion.  “Thank you, Lord Trent!”

“You are most welcome, my dear.”

“Will it be your first ball?” Mrs. Carlton asked.

Raven nodded.  “It will indeed.  I had dance tutors, naturally, but…what a pleasant surprise to find that I have only days to wait instead of weeks!  I long for it all.”

“Such enthusiasm!” Mr. Carlton said.  “Your confidence and beauty make you a credit to the earl’s house.” 

“She is a treasure,” the earl conceded cheerfully.  “I’ve kept her fairly hidden from the local young bucks but let’s watch them strut about and make fools of themselves to try to win her.”

Raven risked a quick glance at Phillip, immediately thrilled to see the somber dark expression on his face. 
He is jealous to think of me dancing with other young men.

“I see you scowling over there!” Geoffrey said with a smile.  “You’re not out of it, sir!  A bachelor has no chance of clinging to the walls—not if he hopes to survive the night!”

Lady Baybrook nodded.  “It is an unthinkable sight for a bachelor to leave the local beauties without a partner.  There is always a shortage of eligible men at these gatherings and I have heard of men earning a cold shoulder in Town if they offend the wrong families with their overhanded reluctance to dance.”

“Dear God!” Mr. Sheffield exclaimed in horror.  “I am a wretched dancer!”

There was laughter around the table as poor Mr. Sheffield looked around in confusion.  “Perhaps I should claim to have suffered an injury?”

“There’s no hiding, sir,” Geoffrey teased.  “But have no fear!  Stand with me and I’ll defend you to the last.”

Phillip kept his head down unwilling to give his host a better target for merriment.  The prospect of a dance would normally have set him firmly in Sheffield’s camp proclaiming his misery and seeking the best escape attainable.  But the tantalizing notion of waltzing with Raven and holding her in his arms was extremely appealing.

What was not appealing was the equally present threat of watching Raven in the arms of anyone else.

Damn it.  There has to be a way to navigate this without calling out every boy in the county who thinks to prance across from her in a reel.

And exactly when did I lose my mind and turn into a possessive ape?

He looked up from the gold pattern on his china plate to spot Raven looking at him, the storm in her eyes a perfect reflection of his.  Her tongue darted out to nervously touch her lower lip and Phillip dropped his fork with a loud clang against his plate as his body surged with unspeakable heat, his cock stiffening between his legs. 

All eyes diverted to him in that instant and Phillip was grateful to the heavens for the discretion of a long tablecloth and the cut of his pants. 

“Courage, there.” Lord Trent lifted his wine glass.  “No man ever died from enduring a quadrille, Warrick!”

“Thank the gods for that.” Phillip said with a sigh and won more laughter from the table.

The conversation continued, excitement and anticipation of the ball overtaking the quiet of the evening.  The Earl of Trent was in rare form, his mood effervescent as he began to tell wild tales of some of the local personalities.  “Can you picture it?  So this farmer wakes up after a bit of home brew and swears that he’s had an epiphany to make his fortune selling local mud in jars as a cure-all to the ladies of London!”

Mr. Sheffield tapped his glass for one of the footmen to refill it.  “A clear example of the effects of a brain fever.”

Trent waved the comment off to gleefully reach the meat of his story. “Imagine my shock when he presents himself on my doorstep clutching a dirty little vial of his concoction and demands a tour of Oakwell Manor!  For you see, with the massive wealth he was about to acquire with ‘Dr. Mudd’s Magical Elixir’, he expected to make me an offer on the house and take up residence within the year!”

“My God!” Lord Morley’s disgust made his voice thick.  “Did you beat him from your doorway with a horsewhip?”

“Of course not,” the earl said with a wry grin.  “I gave him the grandest and most thorough tour of the house that has ever been offered; including an inventory of the silver and an admonition to make sure that he have a good long look at the storerooms.”

“You didn’t!” Lady Morley said, her eyes wide.

“The man was practically jigging down the lane by the time I sent him on his way,” Trent said. 

“You ruined him with that generous show,” Phillip said.  “Poor man.”

“And that offer to buy you out?” Mr. Sheffield asked. 

“Strangely enough, it never came.”  The earl sighed sarcastically. “I cannot see how bottles of mud could fail to make one rich, can you?”

“It depends,” Phillip said.  “I’ve seen fortunes made on more ridiculous schemes.  Perhaps in other more skilled hands?”

“Ah! There you have it!” The earl laughed.  “I will be sure to consider Dr. Mudd’s Magical Elixir for my next venture!”

Lady Baybrook cleared her throat.  “And on that note, I believe it is time for the ladies to withdraw and leave the men to determine the details of their grand financial plans.  Though I should warn you,” she said as she stood, forcing the others to follow suit, “the ladies of London will peel you like grapes if you wiggle bottles of horse manure under their noses.”

The comment was so unexpected that everyone laughed until there were tears.  It was a chaotic retreat for the ladies but Raven marveled that even the most somber matron could provide a silly reprieve.  She followed the women out, sparing one last peek at Phillip, accepting that she already thought of him as hers.

The women settled in to the salon taking their seats according to rank and Raven dutifully waited until the others were placed before selecting the seat furthest away from the fireplace.

“I want to thank you again, Miss Wells, for the day and for your welcome.” Lady Morley rearranged her skirts as she sat down.  “Lord Morley admitted that after hearing about the game, even he regretted missing it.”

“Did he?” Raven blinked in shock.

“He never did!” Lady Baybrook scoffed.  “That man would no more gad about in a party game than a donkey would pull the queen’s carriage!”

“I may have stretched the truth a bit,” Lady Morley admitted without a shred of shame in her voice. “Well, I had a lovely time of it!  Counting stair steps and finding those pretty little red bows tied to the chandaliers—it was a thrilling chase!”

“Then it was worth it, your ladyship,” Raven said.  “To see you happy.”

“It has been a very pleasant holiday,” Mrs. Carlton added.  “And now a country dance?  Mr. Carlton has quite the gleam of nostalgia about him as a result.”

“I cannot remember being so cheered at word of a ball,” Lady Morley said.  “But then it is always fun to see romance take hold and matches made.”

“In my day,” Lady Baybrook said warming to the topic. “If one could spot the match being made then it was a sure sign of poor manners!  Not like these days where everyone makes such a show of their attachments!  It is a sad erosion of the upper class.”

Mrs. Carlton pressed her lips together and studied the sherry in her glass.

“Though here at least, I can make my contribution to the night’s success. My matchmaking talents are famous,” Lady Baybrook went on.  “I have a keen eye for the best matches and have been responsible for more honorable alliances than not.  More than one family in the county may be glad of my attendance and attention during the evening if I apply my talents.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Carlton took a sip from her glass to steady her nerves.  “H-how generous of you!”

Lady Morley looked at Raven.  “What say you, Miss Wells?  Will you be content to have Lady Baybrook see if she cannot make an introduction or two for you?”

Raven’s skin chilled at the flash of disapproval in the dowager’s eyes.  “There is no need.  My ambitions for the night extend only as far as being present, Lady Morley.  It will be a delight to see the fashions and enjoy the music.”

“Such humble expectations!” Lady Morley protested.

“Miss Wells is wise beyond her years,” the dowager proclaimed.  “She recognizes the extraordinary generosity of her guardian in including her and knows better than to overstep.”

Millicent’s confusion was obvious.  “Knows better?  How can a single toe of that girl overstep when she is so young and beautiful?”

“You are too kind, Lady Morley.  I’m sure Lady Baybrook meant to compliment me on my intention to be on my best behavior and do nothing to embarrass my dear Lord Trent.” Raven smiled.  “I think it will be invaluable practice before my first ball in Town this fall.”

“Well, I will be happy to note which man steps up to take Miss Wells’ first dance,” Lady Morley sighed.  “Though I suspect I can guess who it will be.”

“What?  Who?” Mrs. Carlton asked. 

Raven forced herself to be very still, alarm keeping pace with the blush creeping up her face.  “Yes, who would you be thinking of, your ladyship?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Millicent said.  “Why, Mr. Sheffield, of course!  That man nearly fell out of his chair when there was a mention of dancing, I just knew it was his nerves betraying him.”

Mrs. Carlton shook her head.  “The man has done nothing but nip at her heels, Lady Morley.  I hate to be the one to contradict your theory, but he has been most unkind to our Raven.”

“Then it’s certain he is probably smitten!  Men are notoriously contrary when it comes to matter of the heart.”  Lady Morley’s voice rang with quiet authority.  “The ones that make the greatest show of protest and disapproval are always the first to fall.”

Raven felt faint with relief but managed to nod.  “I would never have foreseen it.”

Mrs. Carlton continued to shake her head.  “I still cannot see it!”

“Have you decided what you will wear, Lady Morley?” Raven asked and was rewarded as the topic changed to the dramatic improvisations of wardrobes packed for a country holiday that now unexpectedly included a formal ball.

Raven sipped her cider with a slice of sugared orange floating in it, quietly keeping clear of the flow of the conversation.  Lady Baybrook’s insinuations about Raven’s ineligibility had not missed their mark.  She had been months away from facing her fears in London.  But the earl’s announcement had pushed everything up and Raven was no fool.  The local gentry would be polite to their host and vicariously to his ward but that may not extend as far as risking their children in an unsavory association with a girl without legitimate family.

Even so, she’d run into the teeth of it with her head held high.

Her bravery, however, was starting to lose steam.  The anonymity of being one more pretty girl in a crowded London ballroom had felt vaguely possible but it was not something she was in the mood to test so soon.  Not with Phillip Warrick’s eyes on her at the ball if the earl’s contemporaries felt as Lady Baybrook did… She waited until there was an appropriate lull in the conversation and then quietly excused herself to avoid the return of the men.