Lord Darlington's Darling (6 page)

Abby turned in surprise. She stepped back, giving
room to the young lady who had crowded her. Auto
matically an apology rose to her lips, as though she
had been at fault. “I beg your pardon!”

The young lady looked up quickly. A flush
mounted into her face. “Forgive me, ma’am! I did not
perfectly notice you.”

“I am not very noticeable,” said Abby swiftly, trying
her best to mitigate the girl’s obvious embarrassment.

“Pray forgive my daughter’s impetuosity, ma’am,”
said the older lady, coming up and glancing reprov
ingly at her daughter. “She sometimes acts before
she thinks.”

“It’s quite all right,” said Abby, beginning to feel
embarrassed in her turn. She held out her gloved
hand. “I am Miss Abby Fairchilde.”

“How do you do? I am Lady Darlington, and this
is my daughter Lady Bethany Hart,” said Lady Darlington, obvi
ously relieved that the awkward moment was to be
passed over in a civilized fashion.

“Darlington?” Abby turned to the young girl, who
stood by, biting her rosy under lip. “Then, you are
Lord Darlington’s sister. I understand you are coming
out this Season.”

“Why, yes,” said Lady Bethany in surprise. She glanced
at her mother, then back again to ask curiously, “Have
you met my brother, ma’am?”

“We met last Season and Lord Darlington was kind
enough to renew our acquaintance when he saw me
at Almack’s.” Abby nearly stammered with the warmth of pure pleasure it gave her to offer that explanation. She still couldn’t believe that Lord Darlington had recalled her name, let alone asked her to dance.

A speculative gleam entered Lady Bethany’s eyes, but if
she had been about to comment, her mother fore
stalled her.

“Miss Fairchilde, it is indeed a pleasure to run into
one of Sylvan’s friends,” said Lady Darlington, press
ing Abby’s hand warmly as she smiled.

Abby was startled by the construction her ladyship
had placed on her matter-of-fact statement. “Oh, but
I’m not—”

“I’m having a small soiree for Lady Bethany soon. I
would be delighted if you could come, Miss Fair
childe,” said Lady Darlington.

Abby was beginning to demur when Lady Bethany stuck
in her oar.
“Oh, do say that you will! I
should
like it! I don’t know another soul in London, you see. And it is the
least I can do to make amends when I have behaved
so rudely.”

Abby’s tender heart was touched. She thought she
understood a young girl’s trepidation upon first being
presented to society, even if it was in the context of
a small soiree. She smiled and nodded. “Very well, I
shall, if it is convenient to my sister. My sister and
brother-in-law, the Crockers, are sponsoring me, you
see, and I must ask Melissa whether there are any
previous obligations.”

“Of course. We understand perfectly,” said Lady
Darlington, nodding. “Perhaps it would be best if I send an informal invitation round to your direction.
Or better yet, shall I call on Mrs. Crocker and make
myself known to her?”

“I think that would be quite acceptable, my lady.”
Abby gave the address to
the town house and soon thereafter parted from the
chance-met ladies.

Once having made her small purchase, she and her maid left the milliner’s shop and reentered their car
riage. Abby spent the few minutes in returning to the town house in pleasant reflection, smiling to herself.
The Dowager Lady Darlington appeared to be a very amiable lady,
while her attractive daughter, Lady Bethany, was as spirited
and outspoken as Abby wished she could be. She
thought she would enjoy a gathering at Darlington
Place, especially if his lordship was playing host. She had liked Lord Darlington upon first meeting him the
previous Season. Her perception of him had not
been revised. After overhearing the conversation be
tween Lady Darlington and Lady Bethany, she had a lively
interest in observing Lord Darlington in his role as
the head of his family, for apparently his mother and
sister relied on him greatly.

When Abby returned to the town house, she was
met with the intelligence that Lord Fielding was
sitting with her sister. Easily reading between the
lines, Abby looked with dismay at the butler. “Oh,
dear! Have they been waiting this age for me?”

“The tea tray was taken in ten minutes ago, miss,”
said the butler austerely. When he saw her expression
deepen to apprehension and her quick look toward
the closed door of the sitting room, he unbent slightly.
“I was intending to refresh the pot just before you
came in, miss.”

Abby sent a grateful glance to the butler. It was an
open secret among the servants that she dreaded being
the object of concerted attention. She was well
liked so that the household went to pains to spare her
painful shyness.

Abby took off her bonnet, giving it along with her
reticule to her maid, and smoothed her hair at the hall
mirror. By the time she felt herself to be ready, the
butler had acquired a fresh pot of tea and opened the
sitting room door for them both. Thus Abby was able
to enter the room without feeling she was the focus
of attention.

“Abby, there you are! I was beginning to be anx
ious,” said Mrs. Crocker.

Abby went forward to hug her sister. “I have just
returned from choosing ribbons for my straw,” she
said. As an astonished expression crossed her sister’s
face, she turned to extend her hand to their guest.
“Good afternoon, my lord.”

Lord Fielding, who had risen promptly upon her
entrance, took her hand and bowed, brushing his lips
over her fingers. Straightening, he smiled down at her
from his great height. “Miss Fairchilde! Perceive me
a happy man and at your service. You have but to
command me.”

Abby flushed and hurried into speech to cover her
confusion over his lordship’s flowery greeting. “Th-
thank you, my lord! I shall certainly keep it in mind.
I cannot quite conceive what I could possibly— That
is to say—” She cast an imploring glance at her sister.

Mrs. Crocker easily rose to the occasion. “Pray sit
down, Abby. You will wish tea after your shopping
jaunt, I expect. Lord Fielding was just relaying a very
interesting tale to me. My lord, you simply must re
peat it for Abby’s sake, for I am positive she must
find it as diverting as I have.”

Lord Fielding was nothing loath. Abby accepted a
cup of sweetened tea from her sister’s hands, all the
while regarding her suitor with an expression of polite
interest as he shared the latest news. She chuckled
when she thought it appropriate, even though the
point of the convoluted story was quite lost on her. She had a hazy notion of impropriety, though what
was so shocking about a wager being lost on a goose
race, she was quite at a loss to say. She understood
that gentlemen made wagers on all sorts of things, and
certainly geese sounded a bit more tame than horse
racing or cockfights.

When his lordship had wound up his tale, Abby smiled at him. She knew that it behooved her to say
an appropriate word. “That was indeed diverting,
my lord.”

Gratified, Lord Fielding bowed from his sitting posi
tion. “I am always happy when my efforts to entertain
you find favor, Miss Fairchilde. Would it be presump
tuous of me to invite you, along with Mr. and Mrs.
Crocker and your mother and aunt, of course, to join
a small dinner party that I am getting up for Vauxhall Gardens?”

Abby looked at her sister for guidance. Mrs.
Crocker inclined her head slightly, a smile on her lips.
Abby smiled again at Lord Fielding. “We shall be
delighted to accept, my lord.”

Lord Fielding nodded as though he had not ex
pected any other answer. “I shall send round a formal
invitation, naturally. Now, I must take my leave for
fear of wearing out my welcome.”

As Mrs. Crocker extended her hand to Lord Fielding, she said, “You could never do so, my lord.”

“You are too kind, ma’am,” said Lord Fielding
while looking at Abby.

She hurried into speech. “We always enjoy your
company, my lord.”

“One thing only would make me any happier, Miss
Fairchilde, and that is to hear that
you
enjoy my com
pany,” said Lord Fielding, lowering his voice to a
more intimate note as he took her hand.

Abby blushed and began to lose herself in an inarticulate assurance. Lord Fielding was visibly satisfied.
He bowed again to both ladies and made his exit.

Mrs. Crocker turned to her sister and smiled.
“Abby, Lord Fielding is completely smitten with you.
We shall be entertaining a suit for your hand before
much longer, I do assure you.”

“Perhaps,” said Abby with a vague air of
agreement. She wished to change the subject to one
less likely to bring a wave of uncertainty to her mind.
“Melissa, you shall never guess whom I chanced to
meet at the milliner’s shop. It was the oddest thing,
especially when Lord Fielding was talking about them
just the other day. Lady Darlington was there with
her daughter. They were choosing fabrics for gowns
and such for Lady Bethany’s come-out. I thought
both to be quite personable.”

“You actually spoke with them?” asked Mrs. Crocker
in surprise.

Abby gave a laugh, understanding her sister’s
amazement. “I suppose it
was
a bit out of character
for me to strike up a conversation with strangers.
However, I was perfectly comfortable, and Lady Dar
lington was extremely kind. I invited her ladyship and
Lady Bethany to call on us at tea one day.” Abby was sud
denly struck with doubt. “I hope that is all right?”

“Of course it is, Abby. You know you may extend
an invitation to anyone you choose,” said Mrs.
Crocker, adding, “I am only astonished that Lady
Darlington was so willing to take you up. Surely her
ladyship has her own set of friends.”

“It—it is because I admitted to being acquainted
with Lord Darlington, I think,” said Abby, wrinkling
her brows a little. “Lady Darlington mistook me to
mean that we were very well acquainted with his lord
ship. In fact, she has said that she will send us an invitation to Lady Bethany’s first soiree.”

Mrs. Crocker now stared at her sister in a good deal
of astonishment. “My word, Abby! We, the intimates
of the Marquess of Darlington! However did you man
age to leave such an erroneous impression!”

“I honestly haven’t a clue,” said Abby with the
flicker of a smile. She looked anxiously at her sister.
“I am sorry if you don’t like it, Melissa.”

Mrs. Crocker shook her head, frowning a little. “It
isn’t that I don’t like it, Abby, it is what Lord Darling
ton must think when his lady mother informs him of
our supposed friendship! I shouldn’t wish for his lord
ship to conclude you were trading on his name.”

Abby stared at her sister, appalled. “Oh, dear! The one time I do manage to hold a polite conversation
without becoming tangled in my own words, and I make such a mull of it!”

Mrs. Crocker laughed and reached out to pat her
hand. “Never mind, Abby! It will all turn out for the best, I am persuaded. Lady Darlington will undoubt
edly realize her mistake and neglect to send the invita
tion or some such thing. Truthfully, I would be
relieved, for I cannot like the association even if the
Darlingtons are well connected.”

Abby was surprised. “How can you say that, Me
lissa, when you have not met Lady Darlington and her
daughter? I thought them perfectly respectable.”

Mrs. Crocker shook her head. “It is not her ladyship nor her daughter of whom I am thinking, but Lord
Darlington. You must know, Abby, that Peter thinks
his lordship to be a veritable fop. I own, there is
something about the marquess that I cannot quite like.
He has a cold, arrogant air, a care-for-naught way
about him that sets my teeth on edge. He is nothing
like Lord Fielding, who can be depended upon to al
ways be the perfect gentleman.”

“Oh, but—” Abby started to speak a defense of
Lord Darlington, but before the words had half
formed on her tongue, she met her sister’s inquiring
gaze and she fell silent. She had not found Lord Dar
lington to be either cold or arrogant. He had recalled
her perfectly to mind and had gone out of his way to
greet her after only a brief introduction the previous
Season. His behavior did not fit the picture that her
sister had just painted of him. Nor did the manner
in which his lordship’s mother and sister had spoken
of him.

“What were you about to say, Abby?” asked Mrs. Crocker.

“It was nothing, nothing at all,” murmured Abby,
sighing over her own craven lack of spirit. After all,
her sister and brother-in-law were so much more
worldly and assured than she was. They were looking
out for her best interests, and she was truly grateful
to them, for she could never have contemplated going through another Season without their staunch support. She had no business running counter to their opinions
when her own mattered so little.

“If you are thinking that we should not reject Lady
Darlington’s offer of friendship out of hand, you are
perfectly right. Indeed, it would be the height of rude
ness to turn down such an invitation if we were to
actually receive it,” said Mrs. Crocker.

“Yes, that was what I was thinking,” agreed Abby,
feeling a spurt of gladness and relief going through
her.

“You see, Abby? You needn’t be afraid of airing your thoughts. I promise you that I shall always listen,” said
Mrs. Crocker with a softened, fond expression.

“You are very good to me, both you and Peter,”
said Abby in a rush of gratitude. “Mama and Aunt
could never have done even a tenth for me!”

“Quite so,” said Mrs. Crocker wryly. She rose from the settee. “Why don’t we go upstairs to see whether
Mama and Aunt are still enthralled in their usual
game? If so, I don’t think it would come amiss to
remind them that we are to change for dinner soon. Besides, I haven’t yet had the opportunity to see the
ribbons you bought.”

Abby went willingly out of the sitting room, arm in
arm with her sister. “I hope you like the color, Me
lissa. I do think the ribbons will be perfect to
refurbish my straw bonnet. But you must judge for yourself!”

“Well, let us go up and see,” said Mrs. Crocker,
smiling.

They were to go to the theater that evening, an
outing that Abby always looked forward to with ex
citement. She loved to watch the playacting onstage,
sitting in her chair enthralled from the moment the
curtain was raised until the instant it was lowered.

She was disappointed when the intermission inter
rupted her pleasure. She agreed with good grace to
her brother-in-law’s announcement that he and her
sister were going to promenade, and if she didn’t care
to go with them, she would be perfectly safe remaining
in the box with her mother and aunt.

“Of course, do go,” said Abby. “I know how rarely
you and Peter have an opportunity to be together.”

Mrs. Crocker laughingly agreed and went off hap
pily with her husband. The door had not been shut
for very many minutes when there was a knock on it.

Abby looked at her mother. Mrs. Fairchilde raised
her frail voice to give permission for the visitor to
enter.
To Abby’s astonishment, it was Lord Darlington, escorting his mother and sister.

Lady Darlington greeted
Abby with a friendly manner. “Bethany saw you in the box and begged us to bring her over. I hope we are not intruding?”