An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) (4 page)

Lord Trent grinned as he clapped a hand on Ryland’s shoulder. “It’s been an age. I haven’t seen you since Eton.”

Colin sipped as the two men caught up on old times and school memories. At twenty-six, Colin was a year younger than Ryland and two or three years older than Lord Trent. The two men couldn’t have spent much time together in school, though Ryland’s close friendship with Lord Trent’s elder brother probably allowed them to interact more than other students of that age difference.

Despite his personal vow for a business-free evening, Colin found himself looking over the ballroom with an assessing eye. Nearly all the ladies were in costume, as were most of the men. A few, including Colin himself, had simply added a domino mask to their normal evening attire. Lord Trent had put a bit more effort into the evening, donning a black medieval-styled tunic over tight breeches.

There were three men in the corner, no doubt talking horse races. Mr. Townsend rarely talked of anything else.

Lady Elizabeth, distinctly short and round even in her Grecian costume, was dancing with Mr. Burnside. That would make his father, Lord Trotham, very happy. And when Lord Trotham was happy, he tended to ignore some of his holdings.

Colin made a mental note to contact Trotham’s estate manager to ensure Trotham’s sawmill in Essex was being properly managed. The rest of the viscount’s holdings were none of Colin’s business, but he’d taken an interest in the sawmill last year. It had been a sound investment so far, but Trotham had been concerned about his son settling down for the past two years.

Mention of Gentleman Jack’s boxing facility pulled Colin’s attention back to the men in front of him. Lord Trent had always been an exceptional athlete, but Colin didn’t know he’d been training
with the legendary boxer. If Ryland’s confession to Lord Trent’s sister didn’t go well, those skills could cause a problem for Ryland. The cup of punch wasn’t wide enough to hide the grin that split Colin’s face, but the sour smell and the weak taste were enough to help him control it.

The conversation lulled, and Colin opened his mouth to ask Lord Trent about his plans for the Season, but a blinding swirl of white entered their circle, robbing the words from his tongue.

“Good evening.” A feminine voice rolled into his ears like the soft waves on the beach of a sheltered cove. He couldn’t stop the accompanying shiver as he turned his eyes to the source.

The white blur settled into the most beautiful creature Colin had ever seen. Golden curls spilled over her head, woven through with a string of pearls. The mask covered a good portion of her face, but delightful green eyes were easily visible, the slight tilt to the corners making him curious to discover her secrets.

His gaze swept down, taking in the Elizabethan-styled white gown, trimmed with feathers in such a way that she appeared to be floating. God was certainly having a good day when He made this angel.

Lord Trent nodded to the lady and then smiled at someone over her shoulder. “Griffith, you won’t believe who I’ve found.”

Colin dragged his eyes from the vision in white to the enormous man standing next to her. The Duke of Riverton was dressed much as Colin was, though not for the same reason. As the man who handled a good bit of Riverton’s investments, Colin knew the duke needn’t be concerned about the cost of an outfit intended for a single evening. For that matter, neither did Colin, but the fear of destitution was hard to move past, even all these years later.

“What a splendid coat.” Riverton looked over Ryland’s outfit and didn’t even try to hide his amused grin. “I was wondering if you would make an appearance tonight.”

Ryland reached a hand to smooth the ruffles marching down his chest. The signet ring caught the light from a nearby candle, causing it to glint amongst the lacy frills.

A quick gasp parted the lips of the beauty at Lord Trent’s side. Her eyes widened, and she briefly snagged her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared at Ryland’s hand. Obviously she recognized the ring.

Ryland seemed oblivious as he answered Riverton. “I told you that I would see you in London.”

Colin lifted the cup of punch to his lips to hide his smile as the lady’s face and body melted into a position that flattered every curve and curl she possessed. He didn’t dare drink any of the unpleasant liquid for fear the laughter he was holding back would escape.

As the three aristocratic gentlemen continued to talk about the effects of Ryland’s return, Colin took in the increasingly agitated woman in their midst. Her smile never faltered, but her glare was becoming quite pointed as no one saw fit to introduce her to Ryland.

Brilliant green eyes. Golden blond hair. Her hand on the arm of the unmarried Duke of Riverton, but paying him little or no attention. This had to be Lady Georgina, the duke’s youngest sister. A woman completely out of Colin’s reach, not that such a quality gave her much distinction in this room. Colin rarely encountered a woman who would consider his station and position an acceptable match.

He’d rarely encountered a woman of this much beauty either. Even with the mask and the abundance of feathers, she was as magnificent as the rumors claimed.

And the rumors had claimed quite a lot. The woman was nearly legend. He’d never seen society anticipate a lady’s first bow as much as they had Lady Georgina’s. Given that the young lady had a sister out in the ballrooms already, he’d never understood the fascination.

Until now.

Colin struggled to contain his amusement as the lady gave a dainty cough and glared at her brothers. No doubt their continued inane conversation about Ryland’s unexpected attendance was intended to annoy Lady Georgina. It appeared to be working.

Colin took a few steps to his left to reach for a fresh glass of punch. He slid around behind Lord Trent and offered the cup to Lady Georgina. “Might I offer you some refreshment?”

Her eyes widened as they went from the cup to his face. Was she trying to place him? Wondering if they’d met? In all the times he’d visited Hawthorne House to see Riverton, Colin had never met the sisters, had only seen Lady Miranda twice. And since he took great care to keep himself out of the local gossip papers, she was unlikely to have even heard of him. Let her wonder. Maybe that would give Ryland time to escape and find Lady Miranda.

A glance at the trio of men now working to hide their own grins showed that Ryland had no intention of slipping off. Colin nodded toward the punch cup once more. “Terribly forward of me, I know, seeing as we’ve not been introduced, but I can’t bear to see a lady ignored.”

“Yes, of course.” She took the punch as if she’d never seen a drink in her life. “Thank you.”

Riverton patted Lady Georgina on the hand. “My apologies. Are we supposed to perform introductions? This is a masquerade, after all.”

Lady Georgina tilted her head, managing to look at Riverton but smile at Ryland in the same motion. Most impressive. “I can hardly dance with a gentleman I don’t know.”

Riverton tilted his head. “That is true. Gentlemen, may I present my sister, Lady Georgina. Georgina, this is His Grace, the Duke of Marshington, and Mr. Col—”

Lady Georgina’s gasp cut off the introduction of Colin. “Duke, is it truly you? I’ve heard about you for years, of course. What brings you back to London?”

Cheeky girl, but charming. Colin was, fortunately, well accustomed to being on the ignored fringes of society. He wasn’t aristocratic, wasn’t even gentry. What he was, was very, very good with money. He had an eye for investments, a good head for business, and a golden touch with new ventures. For a group of people who required a lot of money to maintain their preferred lifestyle, that made him a sought-after commodity.

That didn’t make him popular.

Ryland set his punch down and reached for Lady Georgina’s hand. “Might I have the next dance?”

Experience in restraint kept Colin’s eyebrows from flying up. Ryland was here for the elder Hawthorne sister. What was he doing asking the younger one to dance?

Colin’s gaze cut from his friend to the woman in white. There was more smiling and head tilting. Did she practice in a mirror? This had to be only Lady Georgina’s first or second time out in society. That kind of confidence and skill usually came with experience.

“I would be delighted, Your Grace.”

Within moments they were lost among the blur of other couples in the intricate steps of a quadrille. It was a fairly new one. When had Ryland had time to learn it?

Colin shrugged and finished his punch. Ryland never did anything
without a plan, so there was a reason he’d asked Lady Georgina to dance. Even if Colin was fairly certain it meant the plan was a bad one, there was nothing he could do about it.

“I must apologize once more,” Riverton said.

Colin waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s not a bother. Women usually ignore me at these events, unless they have the misfortune of being sat next to me at dinner.”

Lord Trent grinned. “I’ve sat near you at dinner. You managed to use all the correct utensils and didn’t slurp the soup.”

Colin smiled but didn’t respond as there was no need to answer. All three men were well aware of the social ladder and where Colin sat upon it. That the Hawthorne brothers chose to ignore the vast chasm between his status and their own was a boon, but not one he expected from most others of their echelon.

“Have you been here long?” Riverton asked Lord Trent.

“But a quarter hour at the most. Hadn’t time to do more than glance over the crush before I looked up and found Ryland looking ridiculous.”

Colin grinned. “It looks even better than I’d hoped.”

Riverton looked impressed. “You are responsible for that frippery?”

“Only the idea.” Colin shook his head. “I’m afraid the brilliance of execution must be laid at Jeffreys’ feet.”

Where was Lady Miranda? Colin looked over the crowd, though there was little chance he’d recognize her in a mask. She was there somewhere, though, and Ryland probably knew what she was wearing, which made Colin wonder once more what Ryland was doing dancing with Lady Georgina. Given her obvious intentions a few moments ago, future family gatherings were going to be a bit uncomfortable if Ryland had his way in courting Lady Miranda.

“Will you be in Town for the Season, Colin?” Riverton asked, turning from the dance floor.

“I don’t know yet. I may take a trip in a month or so to see some investments to the west.” Colin hadn’t planned on taking the trip until after summer, but a persistent itch had spread through him as
the Season approached. Restlessness was not something he really knew what to do with. Despite the fact that London didn’t hold much in common with Glasgow, the Scottish port city he’d grown up in, when he’d all but run away from his family five years ago there hadn’t been much question of where he would go. He’d felt at home in the big city the first time he’d set foot in it.

But five years was a long time. Part of him wondered if this craving to leave London had something to do with a hidden desire to venture north. If so, he was doomed to disappointment. There was little chance his father would welcome him home, even if he wanted to try.

“They’ve greatly improved the road west in the past few years,” Riverton said.

Lord Trent nodded. “Especially if you’re in a carriage with those new elliptical springs. I rode in one a few months ago. You can barely tell you’re moving.”

Colin knew about the springs. He’d missed the opportunity to invest in them but was watching to see what other innovations might be inspired by the new springs. Before he could add to the conversation, movement in the crowd caught his eye.

Several mothers were maneuvering their daughters closer to the refreshment table. The broad shoulders of the eligible Duke of Riverton had been spotted, and soon they were ensconced in polite conversation in which Colin was even more politely ignored.

It was possible this constant invisibility was the true source of his insatiable disquiet. Lady Georgina might be the most striking woman he’d seen of late, but she wasn’t the only one he’d noticed. The urge to settle down, marry, pass on his faith to a new generation was growing.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

It was interesting to circulate among the cream of society, but very disconcerting to know that none of the young ladies he saw on a regular basis would consider him an eligible match. The exotic green eyes of Lady Georgina flashed through his head again.
Her brothers gave every indication of not caring about the social differences. Was there a chance she might feel the same way?

Riverton and Lord Trent selected women from the surrounding crowd to take on the dance floor. The rest of the mingling ladies dispersed, none of them interested in attracting Colin’s hand.

Unable to stop the habit, Colin took the circuitous route to the side of the dance floor. Men, deep in their cups, confident they were safe among peers, talked openly about issues and successes. A little bit here, a snatch of conversation there, and Colin could piece together a vision of what would succeed and what would fail. It sounded as if Mr. Martin’s plantation was finally starting to produce. Colin would pay the man a visit in a few days and see who was lined up to ship the goods.

“Thank you for the dance, Lady Georgina.”

Ryland’s voice drew Colin’s attention away from the conversation behind him. His eyes narrowed as Ryland walked Lady Georgina to the pillar where Colin was standing. He was not gathering information for his friend. Not here. Not about this.

“It was my pleasure, Duke.” Lady Georgina looked a touch confused as she looked around. No wonder. Her brothers and her mother—typical people for a gentleman to leave his dancing partner with—were nowhere to be found. Despite her confusion, she turned an adoring look on the duke. “I do love to dance with such a graceful partner.”

“Have you met my friend, Mr. McCrae?”

Colin was going to kill Ryland. Well, not kill. They’d saved each other’s necks too often for Colin to even jokingly consider harming him. But there was definitely retribution in Ryland’s future.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” A small frown line appeared at the top of the lady’s mask. Surely she remembered him from a few moments ago. Her gaze narrowed slightly, weakening Colin’s slight hope that she would be as welcoming as her brothers.

“My lady.” Colin bowed and accepted her hand from Ryland.

Ryland grinned. “I see someone with whom I must speak.”

Colin glared. The black domino mask probably dampened the
impact of it, not that he had much chance of intimidating a man of Ryland’s experience even if he deserved the icy glare. The scoundrel was leaving him standing in the corner of the ballroom holding the hand of the woman everyone expected to be the Season’s Diamond.

There was only one acceptable thing to do.

There was a science to being popular. One had to have the right connections and be seen with the right people, of course, but there was a great deal more to it than that. Too much time spent with the less worthy would diminish your status, but too little gave a person an air of snobbishness instead of discretion. It was all about the proper balance.

Which presented Georgina with quite a conundrum, because she and Harriette had studied
Debrett’s Peerage
in detail, and not a single McCrae had been listed that she could recall. Three years of poring over every society column in reach hadn’t revealed his name either.

She resisted the urge to pull her hand from the man’s grasp. He was certainly handsome—from what could be seen around the mask, at least. Chestnut brown hair with just a hint of red in it swept back from his forehead, a nearby candle flame revealed the clear blue eyes behind his mask. And though his smile looked a bit tight, it gave the impression that the man was friendly—a rarity in a London ballroom.

Not that any of that mattered. Good looks and personality were only advantageous if the man also possessed popularity. Dwelling in a corner with someone so far beneath her that he was practically off the ladder made the balance very precarious.

“May I have the honor of this dance?” He inclined his head toward the crowd of dancers.

“The honor is mine.” She smiled her kind-but-disinterested smile and let him lead her to the floor. What else could she do? The Duke of Marshington obviously thought well of this man, as did her brothers. She couldn’t risk offending him.

Unfortunately, they joined one of the simpler dances, which allowed adequate time for conversation between the couples. Why couldn’t she and the duke have danced this one instead of such a physically exhausting one? Their dance had been much too rushed to do anything more than smile at each other.

“Have you known the duke long?” Georgina asked. She might as well utilize this time as best she could.

“Which one?” Mr. McCrae’s grip was firm but gentle as they joined hands to circle another couple.

“Either. Both.” His closeness to her brothers was nearly as important as his closeness to Marshington.

“I’ve known your brother for about three years.”

They split and allowed another couple to pass between them. Georgina waited until they came back together to speak again. “And Marshington?”

“Longer.”

Longer? That told her nothing. Marshington had been absent from society for the past nine years. How did this man factor in to that absence? “How interesting. You are not from London, then?”

She winced as one corner of Mr. McCrae’s mouth tilted up. While she couldn’t quite place the light accent that coated his words, it was very obvious he’d spent his formative years away from London.

“No. I spend a great deal of time here though. It is a convenient place to do business from, after all.”

Georgina gritted her teeth as the tinge of accent thickened into a recognizable Scottish brogue. An unpopular Scottish businessman. Thank goodness this was a masquerade and still early in the evening. Anyone who did happen to recognize who she was dancing with would probably forget it by the end of the night. There was nothing to do but get through the dance. At least the orchestra was one of the good ones. She allowed the music to flow through her, finding enjoyment in the dance if not the company.

“He’s made his choice already.”

Georgina blinked. He couldn’t mean . . . “Who?”

“Ry . . . er, Marshington. His interest was already drawn before he returned to London. ’Tis the reason he returned.”

Thankfully the dance parted them again for a few moments. Georgina bit her cheek to keep from grinning. She had joked with her sister that she wanted to be amazing enough to lure Marshington from hiding, but she never thought she would truly be able to do it.