The Scoundrel's Secret Siren (7 page)

The dog behaved
perfectly all the way back to Lady Hurst’s townhouse. Lorelei wondered if he had been just as impressed by Winbourne as she had.

Constance
wasted no time in expressing her own admiration for the commanding gentleman, and demanded to know if Lorelei had had the good fortune to dance with him at any of the fêtes she had attended.

Lorelei was only half-
listening to her sister, her mind on the earl. She thought back to the tender way he had examined her wrist, and how intently his eyes had looked into hers. She shivered a little, remembering his nearness.

*

If Lorelei had imagined she could go any amount of time without seeing Winbourne, she had been very much mistaken. Suddenly, he was everywhere. For some reason, though he hardly spoke two words to her, his very presence was enough to unsettle her.

His continued attendance at picnics and dinner parties was enough to set the
ton
speculating, but no one thought to connect the fashionable
roué
with the pretty young daughter of Baron Ledley, a girl in possession of a middling fortune at best.

Occasionally, he would pull out the pendant and twirl it casually in his fingers, the movement full of such easy carelessness as to set her teeth on edge. If anyone recognised it, she was sure to be the talk of the town. She could only imagine what conclusions would be drawn
from his possession of so personal a trinket.

At last, the night of the
bal masque
at Almack’s was upon them. Lorelei’s hair had been carefully dressed
a la Venus,
and Lady Hurst was very particular about the ball gown Lorelei was to wear. The fabric was a pale cream. The gown had a sheer over-skirt and was embroidered in an overlapping design of delicate gold thread. The colour brought out the gold in her hair and the sparkle in her eyes.

“You are sure to catch a prince in such a gown!
A dashing foreign prince – perhaps from Germany or Sweden,” Constance said, admiring the fabric while Nell pinned up Lorelei’s golden locks, which had been painstakingly curled for the occasion. Nell was a genius with hair, and the only person who could make certain Lorelei’s stubbornly straight locks retained a curl for the entirety of the night.

“I think I’d settl
e just as well for a baron, if he were interesting,” remarked Lorelei wistfully.

“To waste such a gown on a baron?” ex
claimed the younger sister, brown eyes wide ina dramatic way that Lorelei was sure would lead all young men by the nose during her own first Season.

“
Papa
is a baron.”

“Papa is different –
and
Papa is a Major General, which must make him that much more important.”

“He is certainly very missed by his diplomatic friends. I’ve had so many approach me
to ask after him – and after ourselves, of course. Countess Lieven declared London parties to be nothing without his repartee.”

“
I’ve always thought the countess had a soft spot for Papa.” She paused for a moment, then ventured, “The Earl of Winbourne is very interesting.” Constance was still full of admiration for the man with his tall figure, handsome face and the way Sirius had obeyed him on the spot. She dropped many casual mentions of him, and Lorelei had to struggle to appear nonchalant despite the thrill that shot through her at every mention of his name.

“Interesting, yes, a
nd also very disreputable. Not to mentioned that he is known for the frosty distance from which he regards all of Society. I do not think there is a lady in existence whom he’d consider worthy of his full attention. Oh! I know what you are thinking, Con, but he is not at all like a hero. Not to mention that he has barely said a word to me, beyond polite acknowledgement. And that, I think, is mostly because I am a friend of his niece and sister.”

The conversation moved on after that, and they talked of a painting Constance was working on, a lovely one of the roses in Lady Hurst’s garden at the back of the house
, but Lorelei found that her thoughts strayed back to the handsome earl against her will.

Lady Hurst had much admired Constance’s
work when she had come to them in Ledley Park, and the girls thought it would be fitting to gift her with a painting as a way of thanking her for her hospitality.

At last, Lorelei donned her mas
k, matchingly decorated with gold thread and cream feathers, and they departed for King Street. Lady Hurst held her own mask by a long ebony handle, having claimed that the mystery of such evenings had long since paled for her and that she might just observe the evening from the comfort of the dowagers’ chairs. Her sparkling eyes rather belied the severity of her plans.

Upon entering Almack’s
, Lorelei was in awe. The marvellous ballroom had to be over a hundred feet in length, filled with beautifully dressed company: the most select of the Upper Ten Thousand. There were breath-taking gilt columns and the biggest mirrors Lorelei had ever seen.

She
caught sight of herself in one and wondered if she looked as nervous to the other guests. Her wide eyes stared back at her from behind her mask. The room was elegantly lit by beautiful cut-glass lustres: Lorelei had heard that the modern gas lighting had caused quite a stir when it was first installed here, but she thought she preferred the pale flickering of candles to the bright illumination. She had seen Pall Mall gorgeously illuminated by gaslight at night, but indoors it was somewhat unsettling.

The young lady
wasted no time in spotting Julia – even her mask could not hide her remarkable prettiness and recognizable chocolate curls, brought out by the dark blue of her own gown. As always, she seemed rather unaware of the stir she was causing among the gentlemen.

“It is not at all fair that gentlemen should be permitted masks also,” Lorelei’s quiet friend observed
by way of greeting. “The masks make them all so mysterious and dashing that it quite sets one’s head spinning.”

Lorelei agreed
wholeheartedly, and then laughed. “Ah, but here is one gentleman that ought to hold no mystery for you! Mr Farthingdon, talking to a lady in pink. I have never seen such high shirt points. I wonder if they will quite catch on at Watier’s?”

The young ladies laughed
at this. There was no mistaking Mr George Farthingdon, who had a remarkable fortune and, by all accounts, a remarkable lack of sense or taste. His ‘frightened owl’ hair, a veritable hit among the dandy set, gave the poor man a look of perpetual astonishment.

“I can only wonder
at the amount of starch his valet must go through in a week,” Julia whispered, giggling.

The par
ty proved to be full of enjoyment. Lorelei was not obliged to sit down for a single dance and her partners were most gracious and very droll. Next, however, she was obliged to dance with the odious Mr Farthingdon himself, who was an excellent dancer and very aware of his own skill. His every movement was elaborate, and the lady seemed to be there only to show off his genius on the dance floor. One could not but feel sorry for the unfortunate trying to keep up with Mr Farthingdon as a partner.

Lorelei smiled her most charming
smile and allowed the gentleman to lead her to join the set, while Julia gave her an encouraging smile. Julia was such a kind soul that she somehow managed to feel sorry even for Mr Farthingdon, who was almost as insufferable in conversation as he was during the cotillion.

Joining
the other couples in the circle formation, Lorelei returned her partner’s elaborate bow with as graceful a curtsey as she could manage, given the sense of dread she felt at the forthcoming two dances. She let her eyes scan the room in front of her idly, as she waited for the eight bars of introduction to lead into the dance. She had the most unsettling feeling of being watched.

“You look nervous, Miss Lindon,” her partner said confidentially
, with a great show of kindness obvious in his voice. “Are you uneasy about the figures? It is understandable – you are very young. Do not worry! You need only look to me and my actions will guide you.”

Lorelei thought
of dancing a whole set with the man and barely stopped herself from wincing. With great force of will, she bit back a rejoinder, smiling instead. “You are very gracious, Mr Farringdon, thank you. I shall do my best not to put you to the blush.” He seemed entirely unaffected by her irony, however.

“Such a lovely young lady as yourself
, and dressed as you are in cream and gold? Why, perish the thought, my dear! We make a most refulgent pair.”

They began
the steps of the stately dance, and just when they were in the process of circling the room, Lorelei chanced to look up over the couple in front of her. She met a pair of very amused dark eyes.

Winbour
ne was unmistakably watching her and, she realised with great ire, he was just as unmistakably
laughing
at her predicament. The masked man could not possibly have been anyone else. His broad shoulders gave him away, and his dark eyes could not be disguised by his black domino mask. Why was it, she wondered, that he was always laughing at her?

She could not in all propriety give him a glare across the room, and had to content herself with pointedly looking
away from him, instead. It was not half as satisfying.

“And how are you enjoying
town, Miss Lindon?” Mr Farthingdon asked.

“Very much, thank you. The S
eason is full of such wonderful entertainment. I think I like the picnics best. And the dancing.”

“Ah, yes. I imagine it must
all be quite overwhelming – such a large city.”

“Not at all,” she replied trying to keep the tartness out of her voice. “I have lived most of
my life in cities. London, mostly, and Bath, when papa could stand it. He dislikes Bath but he particularly cannot bear the country. It is merely that one does not attend many events when one is too young for a coming-out.”

Mr Farthingdon did not appear to be paying her response any heed. “It is no wonder, of course! Such a young thing as yourself must be very quickly overwhelmed. But your greatest occasion is yet to come – you have not yet been presented!”

She could not help but feel that, with the way her partner strutted the steps, the whole room must have been watching them. Feeling utterly ridiculous, Lorelei was very grateful when the dance called for partners to cross over and change.

By the end of the set, she was
certain that her flush could be seen across the room. She was finding it very difficult to remain civil.

“Why, you di
d very well indeed, my dear,” Mr Farthingdon complimented Lorelei, before leaving her with Julia and excusing himself to claim the hand of another young lady for the next country dance.

“What
a tiresome, silly man!” Lorelei exclaimed to her friend. “Do you know, I don’t believe he listened to a word I said, merely prattled on with kindly advice which he felt to be of great value to such a silly green girl as myself.”

“You are a very green girl
, Miss Lindon. Though perhaps you ought to abstain from taking advice from Farthingdon, of all people,” said Winbourne’s cool voice next to her. Lorelei’s head snapped up in surprise.

“Uncle Winbourne! Good evening!” squeaked Julia, who was always a touch unsettled by his cool manner
and sudden appearances.

“Julia. That wreath in your hair suits you remarkably well. Ah, I see
young Evans coming to solicit you for
La Rosalinde
.”

Winbourne was quite correct
, for, in a moment, Lady Julia was asked to dance by a nervous gangly youth. She departed with the assurances that the earl would keep her friend company. They watched couples take their places for the popular reel. Lady Jersey herself was leading the set, having introduced the dance at Almack’s just a few weeks previously.

“Well, Miss Lindon. I would have asked you to dance
also, but you might view that as a rescue, and you found my rescue so objectionable last time that I dare not offend,” he said with a slight bow.

Lorelei met his challenging look with one of her own. There was something about being hidden behind a mask that gave her a whole new reserve o
f bravery and daring. He might be unmistakable, even in disguise, but she was just another of any number of fair-haired women at the party.

“A rescue
, Lord Winbourne?” she asked, with daring humour.

“
Indeed. From being a wallflower. It is as much as any gentleman might do, is it not?”

Her wide, expressive eyes sparkled at him.
“Well, how kind you are. But I think I would much prefer some fresh air. It is always so very warm at these assemblies. Or perhaps some of those dreary refreshments I have been warned about.” Eloise had described the insipid punch and dry sandwiches that were a staple of Almack’s at some length earlier in the evening.

“
I very much doubt you want any of those. Perhaps you will permit me to accompany you to a window seat on the upstairs gallery?”