So this was Almacks. Corie did not think it looked all that impressive for such an important place. Some of the assembly rooms at home were decorated more festively, and most offered better refreshments than bread and butter. Yet this was the pinnacle of the polite world, and thus the center of her world, tonight.
She knew that few gentlemen of the aristocracy married outside their own ranks, and few wed anyone unacceptable to their peers. Even among the upper ten thousand, not every female was deemed a suitable bride. Here was where the self-appointed arbiters decided what was suitable or not, which of this Seasons crop of debutantes, spinsters, and widows were marriage material.
Corie was on trial here, the same way her suitors were being tested. If a man could put up with this stuffy atmosphere, with all the punctilio of a foreign court, if he could maintain his poise and his politeness in the heat and the crowd, then he moved up a notch on her list. If he acted the buffoon, embarrassed his partners, stood tongue-tiedthen he was Daniel Stamfield, with whom his mother insisted she dance.
Shed avoided him for days and concentrated on her admirers. She eliminated two, one for letting his horse stand outside too long, another for shouting at a war veteran begging in the street. She almost wished she could ask Daniels opinions about some of the others, but wouldnt give him the satisfaction of seeking his counsel when he so disapproved of her quest for a husband. Lady Cora, Dobbson, and the servants grapevine had to suffice.
According to her sources, the remaining bachelorsand two widowerswho had shown the most interest in her were not known to drink heavily or wager excessively or indulge in sporting activities beyond the usual. One or two might keep a mistress, and some were known to visit houses of accommodation, but they were all expected to mend their ways once their vows were spoken.
In other words, they were not Daniel Stamfield.
If Corie had to choose tonight, she thought she might pick Lord Whiting, a widower with a small daughter, whose portrait he carried around with him. He was obviously a loving father, which was important to her, and shed like to be a mother, the sooner the better.
Or she might accept Sir Jamison, a banker who was older than she wished, but not as old or dissipated as Lord Morgan. He was not going to be in attendance tonight, hed told her, because his ties to trade made him ineligible for Almacks. Not for Cories hand, she let him know as discreetly as possible. She cared little enough for the world of dukes and earls, and respected a man who made something of himself, unlike Daniel Stamfield. Besides, Sir Jamison wouldnt care about her fathers money, according to gossip about his fortune.
Then there was Lord Alexander, a second son who thought she was the most beautiful woman in all of England, and made her feel beautiful with his compliments and sighs. He wouldnt care about the diamonds, but he might find her bent fingers unattractive.
The others were all pleasant gentlemen, or so it seemed on such short acquaintance. She realized she had no overwhelming, convincing basis for selecting a lifelong partner in this analytic fashion, so shed do her best to fall in love with one of them tonight . . . right after the waltz with Daniel Stamfield, if he did not step on her gown or her toes or spill punch on her skirts. Or scratch his arse.
She couldnt help the giggle that escaped her at the picture shed imagined, just as she was paying her respects to another of the patronesses.
So pleased to be here, my lady. Thank you.
Daniel got through the opening dance with Susanna in fair form. He was used to starting balls with her, and she chattered throughout. If he forgot a turn, she was quick to remind him, without criticism.
Then he danced with Miss Thomlinson, whod had the first set with Chadwick, and was promised for more dances to a Latin scholar down from Oxford and an amateur botanist. Her modest success was thanks to him and his family, she told him. Shed never had such an enjoyable Season.
Daniel was glad for her. He knew what it was like to be an outsider. Happy to oblige, he said, wishing his next partner was as easy to please. Then Miss Thomlinsons hair ribbon caught on the button of his coat sleeve. She stopped dancing to untangle herself, the couple behind them turned to the side, and the next couple in the line tripped over them, until the dance was a shambles.
Miss Thomlinson blamed herself. She should have worn her spectacles, and the quadrille was such a complicated dance, wasnt it?
Nice gal, Daniel told Chadwick as he handed her over before heading back to his mothers seat, where Corie was waiting for her waltz, tapping her foot, and not in time to the music, which hadnt started yet.
The quadrille wasnt half as complicated as pushing a reluctant partner around in the waltz was going to be.
What do you say we sit the dance out? he asked Corie moments later when the orchestra struck up the first notes.
She readily agreed, to protect her toes, her hair, and the flounce on her peach-colored sarcenet overskirt.
They found an unoccupied alcove, in view of the assembly, of course. Heaven forbid a young lady and her beau found a private corner at Almacks.
At first, neither spoke. Both realized they were being watched, though, and so both spoke at once.
Miss Thomlinson is a lovely woman, dont you think? Corie said. Thank you for introducing her to me.
While Daniel said, What do you want me to tell the gentlemen who will call tomorrow?
They looked away from each other and stayed silent again. Then Daniel cleared his throat and said, I told them they could after Almacks. Have you decided which poor fooluh, which prospective husbandyou want me to accept on your behalf? That is, he hurried to add, Im not accepting, just passing him on to you to decide. Unless you want to hear a dozen proposals.
Heavens, no. But I . . . I have not quite decided.
I can see why not. Its only the rest of your life, but I thought you were in a hurry. If its any help, Lord Whitings precious daughter has gone through eight governesses and shes barely seven. A hellion, I hear, spoiled unmercifully by her papa.
Thank you. I suppose the childs nature should be a consideration, as well as the fathers.
He nodded, smiling in case anyone was watching, and because of the look of dismay on Cories face. You get two for the price of one wedding. Oh, and Lord Alexander hasnt a feather to fly with. His father expects him to live off his heiress bride. The dukes got one picked out for him, in Scotland.
Oh dear. Corie wished shed consulted Daniel after all, and not wasted her time on poor choices. Then she saw his smile. You are not just saying that to discourage me, are you?
His grin grew broader, showing dimples. I do not lie.
She supposed even a lummox had a few redeeming traits. What about Sir Jamison, who owns his own bank?
His longtime mistress owns her own house next door to his.
I see. She named a few others on her dance program.
The baronet relied on sawdust to fill out his stockings.
Thats not so bad.
And his trousers.
Oh. She blushed and he laughed out loud.
The retired naval captain lived with his battle-ax mother, the reason he joined the navy in the first place. The undersecretary once assaulted a housemaid, although she disappeared before she could press charges. One of the knights played with a marked deck; the other played with boys.
How could you possibly know all this when the servants dont? He seemed so sure, Corie wished she had half his confidence. Unless it was arrogant pride that made him smile at her disappointment, and everything he said was a parcel of lies. You could be making it all up.
I told you, I dont lie, and no one lies to me. I know people who dont go to fancy affairs like this but serve the swells who do. They tell me what I want to know. And its always true.
Which made as much sense as two incompatible combatants smiling in an alcove for the world to see. Two gentlemen remained on Cories list, so she asked Daniel about them. He did not know anything to their discredit.
Thats a relief.
Why? Do you like either one? Should I give both permission to ask for your hand?
To be honest, Corie could barely remember what either gentleman looked like. I am to dance with Lord Harcourt next. Ill know better after that, I hope.
Lady Cora and Lord Morgan waltzed past their corner, smiling and seeming to enjoy themselves. I wonder if that is my mothers plan, too. Do you think they will make a match of it?
Corie waved to the passing couple. I think she just wanted to dance again. And she feels sorry for him.
I suppose pity is as plausible a reason as any to base a marriage on. Of coursehe looked directly at Coriethere are worse reasons.
She turned her back on him. We cannot all have the luxury to wait for the perfect match. She started to walk back to where Susanna and Clarence were sitting with some other young ladies denied the waltz.
The dance ended as they reached the seats, but before Corie could look around for her next partner, a short, florid-faced woman rushed in their direction.
I just had to greet you, she squealed before they were close enough.
By heaven, Daniel thought, he remembered dancing with the piggy chit, one of the patronesses nieces, three years ago. Some of the gentlemen who stood nearby waiting for a word with the Diamond or Miss Stamfield smiled in sympathy. But no, the female wanted to meet Corie, thank goodness.
Do you remember me from Miss Meadows Academy? I am Jane Wardley.
Daniel could swear she snorted as she spoke.
I heard the most diverting tale, my dear. Of how you refused the man your father wanted you to wed, in favor of a handsome soldier.
Corie stepped closer to Daniel. He gallantly reminded Miss Wardley of their dance some years ago, but she was not to be denied.
She clutched her hands to her plump chest, almost worshipfully. And you, noble creature, have stayed faithful to his memory ever since.
Would you do me the honor of standing up for the next dance? Daniel offered, although calling it an honor might kill him.
She ignored the hand he extended, but squealed again and sighed. Let that be a message to all of us females looking for suitable marriages, to hold out for True Love. I told my father I would not wed without a Grand Passion.
Who could love her, much less feel an iota of passion for the sow? Better yet, who could shut her up? He looked around for help, but all he saw was interested faces, curious looks, especially from Cories admirers.
She was trying to convince Miss Wardley that what shed heard was all a hum. It was nothing of the sort, I promise you. A schoolgirls infatuation for a dashing uniform.
Oh, but everyone knows thats why you never accepted another suitor.
Cories suitors were looking uncomfortable now. If she was bent on a love match, they had no chance, except maybe Lord Alexander, whose adoration could not overcome his appreciation for the finer things in life hed never afford on his own. Besides, who wanted a wife to be the heroine of some novel, pining away for a dead soldier? For that matter, who wanted such an emotional, clinging wife?
They stepped closer, to hear better, except the ones who had heard enough. Those faded into the crowd.
Then Lady Cora was at Cories side, with Lord Morgan trailing behind, wheezing from the exertions of the dance, or to drown out Miss Wardleys shrills and snorts.
But do you still love
Lord Morgan collapsed on the floor at her feet, gasping for air. Miss Wardley squealed louder still, and grabbed on to Daniels arm. He pushed her away to kneel at Lord Morgans side, to raise the older mans head. His mother was at the mans other side, loosening his neckcloth.
While women cried and men rushed in every direction, shouting for water, a surgeon, a vinaigrette, Daniel leaned over and whispered, Thanks, old man. Great diversion.
Lord Morgan grabbed his hand, murmured, Not . . . pretending, and gave his last gasp.
Chapter Twenty
Y
ou are not going to die, old man! Daniel swore, shaking him. Daniel did not feel any heat on his own skin, so shook him again.
If Lord Morgan was not going to die, his heart seemed to decide, he better start breathing. So he gave another gasp, then another. Women fainted; men cheered. The patronesses clapped for the orchestra to begin again; such high drama was unseemly.
Daniel was all for scooping the man over his shoulder, bundling him into his carriage, and, with misgivings, taking him home. He recalled that slovenly, sullen butler and the mess in the house, though, and worried what kind of care Lord Morgan was going to receive there.
