Chapter Two

"I do not think this is a good idea, Mama." Martha looked around the ballroom nervously, relieved that the shadows had kept her back from the prying eyes of the many gentlemen and ladies who were dancing in the ballroom. "I know that you said it would be a crush – and indeed, it is – but that does not mean that someone will not take a notice of my presence here." Or notice my father. Martha's stomach twisted as her mother tried to smile, well able to see that there was just as much concern in her mother's heart as there was in her own. "What will I do then? I am already practically a spinster."

"You are not a spinster!" her mother exclaimed, though she kept her voice quiet enough to make sure that no undue attention was brought to them both. "This is why you are being brought to London, so that you can find a husband before it is too late."

Martha winced inwardly but said nothing. The last three years, she had watched the spring, then the summer and finally the autumn go by, her heart broken with the knowledge that she could never again return to the London Season as she had done before. The hopes and dreams she had once had of finding herself a love match, of marrying that gentleman and beginning their life together had faded only to distant memory, leaving nothing but pain and sadness in their place.

But then, much to her astonishment, her father had gathered them all together with the news that his debts had been repaid and, though they were still economising severely, he had decided they would make their way back to London in the hope of finding her a suitable husband before the year came to an end.

That news had not brought much hope with it. Martha had felt nothing but dread, fully aware that, even though her father's debts were paid, society would not look upon them with any sort of delight or happiness. The ton would not think well of them, would not be glad of their company and idea of her making a suitable match with any gentleman was entirely without hope. As far as she was concerned, the time would come very soon where she would return to her father's estate, knowing without a doubt that her future was set. She would remain a spinster, would settle in her father's house for as long as he lived and then, thereafter, would only be able to pray that her brother or sister would give her a chance for some sort of home with either of them. And if they did not, then she would have to find employment. It was not a pleasant future prospect but what else was there for her? Her father's name had been ruined, she had no dowry to speak of and there could be no hope, then, that she would be given any sort of happy future.

"We will find you a match, my dear."

Pulled from her thoughts of the past, Martha looked into her mother's face, seeing the hope and the determination in her eyes but finding her own heart sinking from the sorrow of it all. "I know that you want to do such a thing, Mama, but you need not think that I will be given the same opportunities as the other ladies," she said, softly. "I am all too aware of the situation I am standing in."

"There will be someone ," her mother said, with that steady resolve in her voice. "Though I will make quite certain that your father makes the very best possible match."

A knot tied itself into Martha's stomach. "What do you mean, my father will make a match?"

Her mother blinked, clearly a little confused that Martha did not know what she meant. "Why, your father intends to find you a suitable match, though I have told him that I must be satisfied with the gentleman for I will not have you thrown to someone who does not appreciate you! This gentleman, whoever he may be, will have to be kind and generous and shows no wickedness in him." Smiling, she reached out and cupped Martha's cheek for a moment. "My dear girl, you will find yourself wed soon, I promise you. It may not be the love match you hoped for but it will still be a match. You will have your husband and your secure future."

For some moments, Martha remained silent, not knowing what to say. Her father had never made such a thing clear to her and now that she knew of it, the shock was still spreading right though her, making her shiver. She swallowed hard, her throat tight, her heart beginning to pound as she wondered who exactly her father might find to marry her. It would not be anyone reputable, surely, for what gentleman with sense and good fortune would agree to marry her?

"You did not know this?"

Martha shook her head in answer to her mother's question, setting one hand to her forehead for a moment. "No, I did not. I thought… " Seeing her mother's lifted eyebrow, she tried to explain. "I thought it would be the same as before. I thought that it would be my responsibility to find a suitable gentleman and, thereafter, when I failed, we would have to return to father's estate and all would be just as it has been these last three years."

Her mother quickly shook her head. "No, my dear, that is not at all the case. Your father and I are quite determined to find you a husband. It will be a match arranged between the gentleman and your father and there will be no courtship or the like, but it will still be a marriage. That is a good thing, is it not?" Perhaps seeing Martha's uncertain look, Lady Hampshire smiled big and bright, her eyes searching Martha's face for any sign of happiness at this notion. "There will be someone for you, I am sure."

"I am not as certain as you," Martha answered, her voice rasping a little. "I have nothing to offer this potential husband. I have no dowry, no fortune to speak of. My father has borne some disgrace and even now, society does not look favourably on him. The gentleman who makes a match with me will have to endure that, will have to understand – and be willing – to be connected with our family. I cannot think that there will be a great number of fellows all eager to do such a thing, can you?"

Lady Hampshire let out a slow breath, her eyes pulling away from Martha for a moment. "I will not pretend that there will be a great deal of choice," she said, rather quietly. "I am very aware that the gentleman who agrees to such a thing might have his own concerns but that is something that you will simply have to endure." Reaching out, she caught Martha's hand in her own, her eyes fixing to hers again. "It is far better to be wed and to have that security rather than remain a spinster," she finished, gently. "You understand that, I hope?"

Martha swallowed again but nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Good." Letting go of her hand, her mother turned to survey the ballroom. "Now, let us simply stand here and take in whoever it is we can see. You will recall some gentlemen, I am sure, though, of course, as desperate as we might be, we cannot even consider some of them."

A slight shudder passed through Martha's frame. "Indeed not. I should not like to be wed to a scoundrel."

"I do not think for a moment that your father would permit such a thing," came the firm reply. "Let us look and merely see who is present. That is all we need to do for the moment."

"And if someone should come to speak with us?"

"Then we speak with them, of course," came the reply. "There is no reason for us to hide away, though I understand your inclination. The debts have been repaid, your father has regained his standing a little and there is no reason for us to stay in the shadows." She smiled and glanced at Martha. "Trust me."

Martha tried to smile but nothing but doubts assailed her. Her stomach was roiling, her hands now icy cold and though she clasped them in front of her, no warmth came. Her mother began to murmur some names but Martha did not pay much attention. Why was she here? Was it simply so that, should her father find a gentleman he thought to be suitable, he could point her out? Then the gentleman could survey her, to see if she pleased him? Heat began to burn through Martha's core, chasing away the cold but instead filling her with a sense of dismay. Was she merely to be an adornment, then? Did her father hope that her supposed beauty might capture the eye of a gentleman? She closed her eyes briefly, feeling herself grow all the more disillusioned with the idea. With her vivid red curls, green eyes and smattering of freckles which remained on her cheeks and her nose no matter how many times she bathed with milk, not every gentleman would consider her beautiful. In fact, many would lament such features which, again, put her at a disadvantage.

I shall find myself wed to a baronet, or to a gentleman who is almost in his dotage, she despaired, tears beginning to prick in the corners of her eyes. Or my father shall fail entirely and I will be left as a spinster, just as I feared.

"I am certain that we have been introduced but I do not recall where!"

Martha lifted her head sharply, turning to see two gentlemen approaching. Both had slight smiles on their faces though the way they darted a glance to each other told her that there was something more to this greeting that perhaps they were ready to offer her.

"I do not think that we have been introduced, no," Martha told them, her chin lifting as she made to look away, only for the first gentleman to reach out and touch her arm. Horrified, Martha stepped back, catching the attention of her mother who instantly turned to stand beside her.

"Might I be able to assist either of you gentlemen?" Lady Hampshire asked, her tone crisp. "Or is there some reason that you have both come to speak to my daughter without first greeting me?"

This made the smiles from the two gentlemen crash to the floor, making Martha's heart lift just a little, her confidence returning. Her mother was quite determined to speak openly and decisively and that certainly seemed to have taken some of the strength from the gentlemen's unwelcome presence. They shared yet another glance but this time, it was the second gentleman who spoke.

He bowed and then put one hand to his heart. "My lady," he said, sounding most apologetic though the first gentleman rolled his eyes at this, making Martha's eyes flare in surprise. "We thought that we recognised your daughter and came to make her acquaintance again, that is all."

"Then I think you are mistaken, though I am very well aware of who you are," Lady Hampshire continued, moving forward just a little and gazing up at both gentlemen. "Lord Radford, is it not? And you are the Marquess of Granton, I believe."

The two gentlemen blinked in obvious surprise and then both nodded in assent, remaining entirely silent.

"Then I can assure you both that I would never have permitted you to be introduced to my daughter," Lady Hampshire continued, making Martha's lips quirk into a smile. Her mother had always had a strong countenance and clearly these two gentlemen had not expected it. It was something of a delight to see how they almost visibly deflated in front of her, their shoulders rounding and their heads lowering just a fraction.

"I do not think that we need to continue this conversation any further, Martha." With a toss of her head, Lady Hampshire turned and took Martha's arm, taking her away from both gentlemen without so much as another glance or another word to either of them.

Martha wanted to applaud.

"Goodness, whoever do they think they are to treat you in such a manner?"

Martha looked to her mother, seeing the knotting of her brows, the anger which broke across her expression. Her own smile quickly faded. "I thought they were simply a little brash."

"Oh, no, they are far more than that," came the reply. "Those two gentlemen are scoundrels, my dear. Rogues! You must stay well away from them."

Her skin prickling, Martha darted a look over her shoulder, only to see the two gentlemen laughing aloud together. For some reason, she felt herself quite certain that they were laughing at her and, her face burning hot, she turned away again.

"You must understand, my dear, that now you are a little… well, now that there is a slight disinclination from society towards us, there may very well be some gentlemen from the ton who are eager for your company, though they will not be at all interested in any sort of genuine connection." Lady Hampshire slowed her steps and let out a heavy breath. "You do understand what I am saying, I hope?"

Martha nodded, a slight embarrassment filling her. "Yes, Mama."

"And you will not speak to them, do you understand?" Turning, her mother grasped her hands tightly, looking into her eyes. "I must know that you understand. To have anything to do with any of these rogues will only cause you disaster."

A little surprised at her mother's vehemence, Martha nodded and squeezed her hands. "I understand, Mama. I have always understood that rogues and scoundrels are not gentlemen to be tolerated. That will not change now."

Her mother's lips pressed flat for a moment and then she let out a sigh. "You say that now, my dear, but when things become almost too difficult to bear, when you find yourself feeling almost invisible to every other person present save for these gentlemen, there might be the temptation to draw near them."

Martha nodded slowly, her heart a little painful as she realised just what her mother meant.

"I do hope that it will not be too long until your father finds you a match," Lady Hampshire finished, releasing Martha's hands. "But you must be on your guard, no matter how long it takes."

"I will," Martha promised, feeling the heaviness begin to creep in upon her again. "I will take the greatest care."

"That is good." Lady Hampshire managed a smile though it did not leap into her eyes. "And let us hope that neither Lord Radford nor Lord Granton ever think to come near you again!"