Chapter 11

CHAPTER11

I cannot breathe!

Julia clutched at her bedpost as Lady Powell urged Harriet to pull the stays tighter.

“Mother, if it has to be any tighter, I shall be too faint to even consider walking, let alone dance,” Julia complained.

“Oh, shush with your complaints!” Lady Powell chided. “You had better be on your best behavior tonight. God only knows how much trouble your antics have gotten us into!”

“Then do you wish for me to be as dull and boring as the most precious Lord Cosby?” Julia muttered. “Perhaps I should go about the ballroom tonight, trumpeting my accomplishments to anyone who could be bothered to listen!”

“You stubborn girl!” Lady Powell looked like she was about to pull her hair in frustration—or Julia’s. “Your father and I have let you have your way for long enough, but it has to stop somewhere. You must learn to curb your wild ways, or your sister will suffer for it!”

Julia bit back the retort that had been hovering on the tip of her tongue. While it was true that she did as she pleased all over London, flirting and teasing gentlemen as she went, her younger sister was not as bold or as audacious as she was.

“You have to remember that Mary is not like you,” Lady Powell reminded her. “Mary would never dream of doing half the things you do. If you keep flirting and insulting fine, upstanding gentlemen such as Lord Cosby, can you take a guess who will suffer all the more for it?”

It would be Mary.

Julia promptly clammed up at the harsh reminder that her behavior not only reflected on her parents but on her younger sister, too. And unlike Julia, who had no qualms about enticing gentlemen to dance with her, Mary’s dance card was hardly ever filled at all the balls they had been to.

Their mother was right. If Julia carried on the way she did, the gentlemen would steer clear of Mary, eventually.

“I could have let you go on as you do, since you seem to have some success with it,” Lady Powell huffed as she turned to leave. “Well, if you can find a better gentleman than Lord Cosby within a month, then you are welcome to introduce him to your father. As it is, the Viscount is still the best option we have.”

Marrying Lord Cosby would not only boost Julia’s reputation but Mary’s as well. It would improve her sister’s chances in the marriage market.

Their mother was right, again. The Viscount was the best option they had, as of the moment—unless Julia could find a better candidate.

But where could such a suitor be found? Did she truly have to settle for Lord Cosby?

Julia could not find it in herself to settle for that option.

Well, wherever he is, he most certainly is not here at the Wilmington Ball.

Julia sighed as she fluttered her fan, her irritation rising to the fore as she surveyed the crowd before her. They had been standing in the ballroom for a little over two hours, and she had already danced with three gentlemen. None of them, however, were better than Lord Cosby.

“Is something amiss?”

Julia turned her gaze towards her sister, who was looking at her in concern. She reflexively smiled at her. “No, no… nothing is amiss.”

Mary did not look too convinced. “Aside from the fact that you chose to sit out the gavotte, you have been exceedingly subdued all night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you have not flirted with any of the men you danced with tonight,” Mary began. “You failed to complain when Sir Baltimore stomped on your toes earlier. You have even considered dancing with Lord Morrison, and he is a knave through and through.”

“Well, you always told me not to judge a book by its cover,” Julia replied blithely.

“Not,” Mary bit out, “as it applies to Lord Morrison. One does not have to get past the first five pages to know what sort of reprobate he is.”

Julia smiled wanly at her. “They say he has one of the finest estates in England.”

“So does Lord Trowbridge. I do not see you considering him as a possible suitor, and he would be a great deal better than Lord Morrison.”

“Mary.” Julia turned to her sister in exasperation. “You know why I cannot consider Lord Trowbridge as a marriage candidate.”

“Oh, I do know very well,” Mary replied with a knowing smile. “The question is, do you know why you will not consider him?”

Julia opened her mouth to spill out all the usual excuses as to why she and Andrew would make an ill-matched couple, but as she did so, she caught sight of him stepping onto the dance floor with a young lady on his arm.

The lady was beaming at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the sky—as the other ladies always did. Julia found the sight somewhat revolting although she could not figure out why.

Maybe because I know just the sort of arrogance that lies beneath that charming smile of his.

And, of course, he has had a lot of practice going about and luring unsuspecting young ladies with that same smile.

Even then, that excuse did not sit quite well with Julia, and she found herself watching the couple on the dance floor a little more intently.

“That is Miss Seymour,” Mary informed her quietly, “Lord Tremaine’s only daughter. They say that he has recently made a great fortune by investing in some mines in India or something of that sort.”

That would perhaps explain why the poor thing was buried in jewels, Julia thought with sham sympathy. It seemed that Lord Tremaine wished his daughter to become some sort of advertisement for his successful investments.

Although deep down, Julia knew that it was no fault of Miss Seymour’s, she could not help but look on the entire scene with something akin to… anger, perhaps?

She actually was not quite sure what she was feeling at the moment. All she knew was that she did not quite like the way Andrew was smiling at the young lady in his arms.

Still, she could not look away from the sight in very much the same way that one could not look away from some grotesque or horrific event. Thus, when something came up to obstruct her view, she was rather irritated, and it showed on her face.

“Lady Julia,” a familiar voice intoned, “would you do me the honor of this dance?”

She looked up to find Lord Cosby smiling faintly at her, and she inwardly growled at his intrusion.

All things considered, he was not exceedingly bad looking. He was, in fact, more than passable looking, according to her standards, and she might have flirted with him, too, if only he had the capacity to flirt back.

As it was, she and the Viscount could find no common ground on which to base their conversations, even on such mundane things as the weather.

She pursed her lips and was of the mind to flatly refuse him when she caught sight of her mother’s warning glare from across the room.

How was it that mothers always knew what their children were up to?Julia bemoaned the fact.

Could I not be afforded a reprieve for just this one ball?

But if she was to reject him, then she must reject every single gentleman who would ask her for a dance that night, and that simply would not do.

As her frustration with everything began to mount, she heard Mary clear her throat from beside her. “Sister, Lord Cosby is still waiting for your reply,” she reminded her.

Do I really have any other choice?

Julia smiled frostily at the Viscount and nodded, looping her arm through his. “It would be my pleasure, My Lord.”

Pleasure my foot!

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Julia,” Lord Cosby replied with a tight smile.

He led her onto the dance floor, and they took their place amongst the other dancers as the musicians began to strike up another tune. A quick glance to the right told Julia that Andrew had found another partner—Miss Underwood, the daughter of the Viscount of Westmore.

“A lovely evening, is it not, Lady Julia?” Lord Cosby asked lightly.

Julia plastered a smile on her face and nodded. “Quite.”

“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

She was fairly certain that her expression did not convey that positive emotion, and Lord Cosby’s questions came out rather stiff and practiced. Small talk definitely was not his area of expertise, but it would be rude to point out that salient fact.

“Yes,” she replied perfunctorily as she craned her neck the slightest bit and spotted Andrew dancing with yet another young lady. She frowned as she whirled around with a clap of her hands, her body easily falling into the steps of the dance, even as her mind—and her eyes—wandered elsewhere.

“Hopefully, the fine weather we have will carry on until tomorrow,” Lord Cosby continued with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. “Perhaps I shall chance upon you at the park, then?”

“Perhaps,” Julia replied distractedly, frowning when she saw Andrew smiling indulgently at his partner while she batted her eyelashes at him until Julia swore the poor thing was going to faint.

Is this truly how debutantes flirt nowadays?

She swore she had done much better when she first came out. Definitely none of that blatant ogling that young ladies are wont to do nowadays.

No, Julia would like to think that she was able to capture the interest of her partners with her wit and charm and not the plain laziness that was displayed before her eyes. She knew she would rather gouge her eyes out than bat her eyelashes in that manner.

Andrew would never fall for those tricks, she thought to herself. As arrogant as that man was, he would never quite settle for a wife whose head was filled with nothing but the latest fashions and gossip.

Which, of course, was the reason why he had initially approached her on the pretext that she owed him for his rather barbaric disposal of Lord Caraway.

And as much as she hated to think that she was indebted to him in any way, she did find the task strangely entertaining and maybe even challenging, since she still had to make Andrew look good through it all.

If there was anything Julia Lewis enjoyed more, it was a good challenge that put to use her God-given talents.

Her gaze slid sideways, and she found Miss Seymour standing on the periphery of the dance floor, heavily bejeweled with rubies.

Suddenly, she had the strangest inclination to find out more about where such brilliant gems came from…