Deb Marlowe

Her Cinderella Season


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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.’

      That sardonic smile appeared. Lily’s heart jumped at the sight of it. ‘I do get out and amongst people on occasion, Miss Beecham. Thank goodness for it, too; I would not have missed making your acquaintance for the world.’

      She ignored the good humour in his voice and let her gaze drop to his injured arm. ‘Yes, but I do hope you did not strain your arm in doing so.’

      ‘No, it is fine, thank you. I should be able to remove the sling in a week or two.’

      ‘When