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Authors: The Wicked Ways of a True Hero (prc)

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He was not going to any more balls, Venetian breakfasts (although the food was usually good and plentiful at those absurd afternoon events), routs, or dinner parties. The ladies did not need him to fetch and carry; they had too many willing slaves as it was. They did not need him to fill empty spaces on their dance cards, for there were none. And they did not need protection. No one dared step over the line with any of the ladies from Royce House after word got out how readily and how permanently Daniel Stamfield defended his friends and family.

 

 

Since Daniel had stepped on the ruffled hem of his latest hostesss hopeful daughter, leaving the twit in tears, her petticoat showing, and her mother screeching for his blood, Lady Cora accepted his defectionas long as he promised to escort them to the all-important Almacks next week.

 

 

The problem was, he was no happier at his old haunts. His new clothes and tidier appearance made him the target of jokes, which were not half as funny now that he drank less. The cards held no sport, not when he had to tally all those dressmakers bills, extra servants wages, and food and drink for the incessant callers.

 

 

Not that Daniel was near to being hard-pressed, but somehow money was more valuable these days. Going over the estate books his mother used to handle made him realize his funds were not endless, nor easily earned. Hed always known it, of course, but seeing Corie and her diamonds made him appreciate what he had, and how stupid hed been to risk losing any of it for an evenings mindless pleasure.

 

 

His old friends were not as friendly now, either. He wasnt one of them anymore, up to any rig or wager. And to be honest, they smelled bad.

 

 

The world was a different place when one didnt spend it in an alcoholic haze, he realized, and not half as much fun.

 

 

Women? Lud, now he saw the desperation in their eyes. Maybe that was always there, too, and hed ignored it for his own peace of mind. The serving girls, the dealers, the women who worked at Lydia Burtons bordelloall had so few years to earn a livelihood, with so much danger, so much degradation and despair. He couldnt enjoy their favors anymore, knowing they had no choice. Instead he bought them dinners, and paid for their time without asking anything back but a bit of companionship.

 

 

Youre a real gent, Danny, you are, one of the girls told him. Youve got heart.

 

 

And remorse and a restlessness that kept him awake at night, wanting who knew what. Not anything he would put a name to, at any rate. He took to spending more of his time with Miss White and McCanns cook than with the dealers and drinkers at the club.

 

 

Harrison tried to console him. The women will be settled soon and out of your hair. The word is that the Diamond will have more offers than any female this Season, with your sister a close second. Theyre wagering on the number of offers, since the number of suitors has filled the betting books. Ive been asked to request for you to keep a tally.

 

 

Daniels growl was his only response.

 

 

No? I thought youd say so. Not kind to the rejected suitors and all. At any rate, odds are in favor that Lord Morgan, that old rip, will come up to scratch for your mother. Its not a bad match, now that hes trying to reform. We havent seen him at the club since Babcock left. So cheer up, my friend; youll have your own life back soon enough.

 

 

I was thinking right after Almacks, possibly. Now Im hoping for after my mothers ball next month. The end of the Season at the worst.

 

 

Tomorrow was too late.

 

 

 

 

 

Corie knew shed have at least a dozen gentlemen to choose from. They were not speaking of their intentionsthanks to that dolt Danielbut a woman knew. Certain callers held her hand longer, left her side with regretful looks, competed to send the largest bouquets, the biggest box of sweets. If she mentioned a certain book, shed have a dozen copies. A lost fan? A dozen replacements.

 

 

She could have at least two dozen less-honorable offers, she knew, if Danielwho was not such a dolt when it came to a rakehells intentions, curse his wild wayswere not such an intimidating presence.

 

 

None of her admirers caught her fancy. This one was so handsome every other female sighed when he walked by. That one was known to be as rich as Golden Ball. Lord This danced divinely, and Sir That had a ready wit. A baronet had a charming little motherless daughter; a banker had a beautiful house on the Thames. None of them had her undivided attention.

 

 

Corie could not imagine confessing to any one of them she had once broken every rule of polite society. She dreaded seeing their faces when she showed her broken fingers. How could she explain her diamonds, her mothers beautiful diamonds, were as fake as her claim to respectability?

 

 

Corie knew she could not enter a betrothal under false pretenses. The Stamfields were not the only ones who honored the truth. Besides, Daniel and his mother knew about her past. That valet knew. Sooner or later, others might. A husband had to be informed first.

 

 

Shed meet privately with the suitor she decided upon, after Daniel approved him, the self-important simpleton. None of the gentlemen she was considering could be faulted or they would not have gotten past Lady Cora or Dobbson, but Daniel had to feel important and all-powerful, the prig.

 

 

Then, before she accepted the proposal she was sure was coming, shed have to reveal her secrets. Her hands were ugly, but uglier were the facts a suitor was entitled to know before plighting his troth: Her father might not release her dowry without a fight; he would not throw her a fancy wedding or purchase her bride clothes. He, that unknown future fiancé, had to be told why her own host considered her too impure to be trusted.

 

 

Then her chosen match would hem and hawshe could hear it nowand the proposal would never come. Hed swear not to reveal her private revelations, but what gentleman held his tongue after a few rounds with his cronies at his club?

 

 

She thought about holding her silence and her secrets until after the engagement was announced, perhaps at the ball Lady Cora was so busy planning. No gentleman worth that title ever reneged on a betrothal, so shed be safe. But no man liked being sold used merchandise, either. Shed have to live with the man, and live with his disgust and anger at being lied to, although by omission.

 

 

How could she do that? She had a hard enough time dealing with Daniel Stamfield, and she did not even like him. Well, not much, anyway. Not as much as she liked her last partner, she swore to herself, whoever he was.

 

 

She was glad Daniel wasnt watching her every move now, not at the parties, not at home when callers came. She did not miss his frowns, not at all. Now she could concentrate on getting to know her suitors better, instead of avoiding Mr. Sneerfield.

 

 

Her only hope was to form a real relationship in the short time she had, to build on affection that could last through her confessions.

 

 

So she stopped accepting every offer, and kept her partners to that select dozen, granting each two dances apiece, or a dance and the supper, a dance and a drive in the park. She even let some of her favorites steal a kiss, to see if they were daring enough to face Daniels wrath, and to see if she could tolerate their touch. Mostly she had to know if they wanted her enough to accept her for what she was.

 

 

Which was miserable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

A
lmacks, at last. An invitation to the assembly was the be-all and end-all of a young girls aspirations. The queens drawing room didnt matter half so much. Her own come-out ball, the most lavish her parents could afford, meant nothing, for it would be empty of guests if she stumbled at this summit of acceptance. Here she could make a brilliant match. Here her dreams could be reduced to rubble.

 

 

Who the devil were these hawk-nosed witches deciding who qualified to join their elevated ranks? Daniel wanted to know. Who the deuce allowed a parcel of stiff-rumped prudes to make the rules for the rest of them, anyway? Knee breeches only, no admittance past the designated hour, no waltzing until the potentates gave the nod.

 

 

And what made anyone care? There were no beverages worth mentioning, barely enough food for a family of undiscriminating mice, parsonage stakes in the cardroom, and the most lackluster collection of insipid girls in pale colors hed ever had the misfortune to

 

 

How many did you say I had to dance with, Mother?

 

 

Hush, and be happy they let you in the door. After last time . . .

 

 

Happy? That was like saying be happy the knife was in your back and not through your heart. Last time, when he was on leave from the army and his aunt dragged him here, one of the old besoms told him how pleased they were to see him in their sacred precincts. Another told him how glad hed be to dance with her niece, one of the stupidest, silliest chits hed ever met, a pink, pig-faced girl who called him a noble hero in his regimentals. The next miss they chose for him was half his size, so horrified to be presented with so large a partner that she could barely speak. What she said was how delighted she was.

 

 

He hadnt heard one word of truth in the pack of social lies. Polite fibs? No lie was polite when it caused him hives on top of hives, so he scratched them.

 

 

And, dear, you must not itch your, ah, your

 

 

My arse, Mother.

 

 

Lady Cora took a deep breath. That. Please, dear. You know how much this means to Susanna. And to Corisande. Oh, and you must dance once with her. It is only proper, with me as her sponsor and you as her escort.

 

 

He was willing, he supposed, to make the sacrifice for his mother, exceptShe wont dance with me.

 

 

Yes, she will. I have arranged it. The first waltz. She is old enough to dance without permission.

 

 

A waltz, Mother? You know I can never keep from bumping into another couple. And this dance floor is so small and crowded, Ill make a hash of it.

 

 

You will not tonight, dear. Corie is graceful enough to make any partner look proficient, and you have improved considerably. I shall be proud, as always.

 

 

He should have broken out in rashes at that, but his mother spoke the truth as only a mother saw it, through eyes clouded by love. Hed do his best not to disappoint her, although she was bound for a letdown either way. Corie was as unwilling as he was, and shed likely be as stiff as a broomstick in his arms.

 

 

Well, arrange for her to smile, too, he told his mother, so no one thinks we are about to murder each other on the dance floor. Oh, and tell her not to say how delighted she is to be my partner.

 

 

His mother smiled. I doubt she will say those words, dear. In fact, I had to admonish her for the words she did use when I told her about the waltz. I do believe she must have overheard the grooms in the stable.

 

 

So if he stepped on her foot, she was liable to utter a blasphemy certain to get them all tossed out on their ears? Now Daniel did not have to worry about rashes, only the perspiration trickling down his neck under the blasted tight, high, and starchy neckcloth.

 

 

After that, I am for the cardroom, no matter what anyone says or who they tell me to dance with. Nothing untoward is going to happen in this musty crowd, so you will be safe without me. Ah, I see Lord Morgan headed your way. Shall I take him to the cardroom with me when I go, to give your other beaux a chance?

 

 

Daniel, I do not have any otherthat is, I do not have any beaux. I simply feel sorry for Lord Morgan, with his nephew gone and his own son and grandchildren so far away. He must be lonely, and those smoky clubs and late nights cannot be good for his lungs.

 

 

What about Susanna? Shall I dissuade Clarence from sitting in her pocket all night?

 

 

He does his duty by the other young girls while she partners as many young men as there are dances. And why would you send him away? Susanna has said time and again she is not looking for a match in London this Season, and I believe her.

 

 

Daniel had heard his sister say the same thing, so believed her, too. He did not believe he could survive another Season. Still, if Clarence werent nearby, she might get to know the other chaps better and one of them might catch her fancy.

 

 

Lady Cora shook her turbaned head. A determined suitor will quickly see they are merely friends. They are both young and miss their companions at home. That is all.

 

 

Clarence Haversmith is not the steadiest influence, you know. Daniel never did have that conversation about sowing ones seed around the countryside. Somehow the idea of lecturing an unwashed cub like Haversmith made him feel paternal, avuncular, old.

 

 

Susanna has a level enough head for both of them, Lady Cora replied. Both my children do. You will do what is right, I know. So will Susanna. And Corie, who is like a daughter to me.

 

 

So Daniel bowed to the patronesses. He kissed the air over their gloved hands without crushing them, presented his sister and Miss Abbott, then found seats for his party. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and sang bawdy tavern songs under his breath so hed miss most of the false flattery and the insincere welcomes. No amount of talcum was going to help him tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

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