Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

O nce the notion of evading Lady Ardley's soiree had entered Adelaide's head, it would not leave. The prospect of being paraded around yet another social gathering as ‘the future Mrs Hanson' made her miserable. She tried desperately hard not to begin to resent him, but now that she had realised her true feelings, every moment she spent with Mr Hanson seemed designed to make her like him less and love Kem more.

Lady Tipton could tell she was unhappy, and tried several times to discover what was wrong, even pressing her to admit it if her engagement was the cause. Yet, much though Adelaide cherished her aunt's attempts to renew a more affectionate bond, she had refrained from confiding in her. It would not have altered her own situation and would have made her aunt feel either worried, or guilty, or both.

Her brother nagged at her to attend the soiree, promising her it would be fun, telling her she looked stunning in her newest gown and assuring her Mr Hanson would agree. In his dear, inimitable way, Oakley had accepted her decision to marry his friend and championed it steadfastly since. If he had any lingering reservations, he kept them well hidden, and Adelaide loved him for it. She needed to feel hopeful, to see Mr Hanson's good qualities through her brother's friendly eyes. She needed to believe that one day, she might learn to love her husband as dearly as she loved Kem. Attempting not to wallow in the futility of such a hope, she yielded to Oakley's persuasion and attended the soiree, resolved to enjoy Mr Hanson's company.

As soon as she walked through the door, she wished she had followed her first instinct and stayed at home. She had assumed a soiree would be an intimate gathering; this was the greatest crush she had attended yet, and likely the only thing preventing it being called a ball was the want of space for anyone to dance in. There were even musicians who might have exchanged their graceful, ambient melody for a lively reel at a moment's notice.

Feeling instantly nervous of embarrassing herself and everyone associated with her, she glanced around in search of friendly faces. She recognised nobody but did see a few people whispering and pointing her way. Evidently Mr Hanson's efforts had not been in vain, though why their engagement should be of such interest to anyone here was beyond her.

"I told you that gown looked well on you," Oakley whispered in her ear.

"You think it is what I am wearing that interests them? "

"Well, it is certainly not my brother," Miss Hanson remarked sardonically.

Mr Hanson ignored her, as he often did, and began asking Oakley to put names to the faces of those people with whom he was not acquainted. Adelaide thought she heard one of the people who had been pointing at her giggle, but when she turned to look, nobody was paying her any attention.

Miss Hanson put a hand on her arm. "Come. Let us find some refreshments."

As they painstakingly made their way across the room, Adelaide's skin itched with the weight of what felt like every pair of eyes upon her, and she said as much to Miss Hanson when they reached the refreshment table.

"Lucky you," was the unexpected reply. "Most of us have been aspiring for that level of distinction since we first came out."

Adelaide said nothing. She despised being laughed at and did not consider it any measure of merit. But her being silent at that precise moment meant that the chief of the exchange being whispered between the group of women behind her found its way to her ears.

"…sneaked away in the middle of the night."

"With whom, do you know?"

"It must have been a man. Why else do young women ever run away from their families?"

"An elopement, then?"

"A failed one. Her cousin was obliged to fetch her home. No wonder she is marrying so low. She is likely ruined. "

"Time will tell if their first babe comes early."

Adelaide gasped, rapidly covering it with a cough and hoping Miss Hanson had not heard. She had gone cold all over and was too dismayed to know what to do—if, indeed, she should do anything. She could not bring herself to look at her companion, for it was not so very long ago that Miss Hanson had been carelessly throwing around defamatory remarks about her, and there was no guarantee her future sister would be at all sympathetic. Without a word, she clutched her glass in her hand and pushed her way back through the crowd towards Oakley.

Miss Hanson caught up. "Is something the matter?"

"Did you not hear those women behind us talking?"

"Miss Bartlett and her friends?"

"I do not know who they were."

"Who who was?" Oakley enquired, for they had reached him and Mr Hanson in time for this last to be overheard.

"Miss Bartlett, Miss Owens, and another lady I do not know," Miss Hanson answered.

Oakley wrinkled his nose. "I do not believe I know any of them."

"You wouldn't," Mr Hanson replied. "They are of no consequence whatsoever, either of them—below your usual circle but a bit closer to mine."

"Do you know them?" Adelaide asked.

"A little. I dined with Miss Bartlett's father two days ago."

He said it easily, almost glibly, but the truth of the matter cut through her shock immediately. She stared at him, her shoulders drooping with the weight of certainty. " You told them I ran away," she whispered.

His features crinkled into a disinterested expression. "I might have done. I cannot rightly recall. But as we have established, they are of no importance to anybody, and besides, you and I shall be married soon. I do not see what it matters."

Adelaide stared at him. They would, indeed, be married soon, but it was a union to which she had only agreed in order to protect her family's reputation. Now Mr Hanson had blithely put about the very rumour she had been attempting to suppress. It has all been for nothing!

"Do you mean to say it was you they were speaking about?" Miss Hanson demanded in a strangled whisper.

"Now, now, Sister, do not be jealous. Miss Richmond cannot help being more interesting than you."

"Hanson, this is not a joking matter," Oakley said severely. He was flushed with anger. "I recognise that you enjoy the guise of fashionable indifference, but I will not stand for you treating my cousin's reputation with utter contempt."

Mr Hanson dropped his smile and looked affronted. "Your cousin's reputation is my concern now, Oakley. And I beg you would remember who is marrying her to protect it before you start casting aspersions." To Adelaide he said, "Forgive me. It was not my intention to give you any distress."

She believed him; he was not malicious. He merely had, as Kem had once warned her, ‘a reprehensibly cavalier approach to life'. A life which, henceforth, would be hers. She could do nothing but smile weakly and nod.

"My cousin is too generous," Oakley pressed. "I am sure her distress would be much alleviated if you were to find these friends of yours and explain that they have misunderstood you."

"Will it alleviate your dudgeon, too?" Mr Hanson replied, rolling his eyes. "Very well. Come, Sister. You had better point them out to me, for I am sure I shall not be able to tell them apart from all these other bits of fluff."

Adelaide stared at the floor, mouthing, "Bits of fluff?" to herself incredulously.

"I am certain he will learn to be more prudent, once he gets used to having a wife to consider," Oakley said quietly. Adelaide was not sure whom he was trying harder to convince, her or himself.

"Oakley, is that you?"

Oakley turned away to greet whoever had said this. Adelaide looked up—and just as quickly down again when she saw it was the ill-tempered woman from Hyde Park.

"It is !" Lady Sawlton cried, sounding a good deal happier than she had a few days ago. "It has been an absolute age! You look so well!"

"As do you. Congratulations on your marriage."

"Never mind that. It hardly signifies compared to the unreasonable number of adventures you have had of late."

"I have had a fair few." Oakley stepped aside and gestured for Adelaide to join his conversation. "Allow me to introduce the instigator of all of them, my cousin, Miss?—"

"We have met," Lady Sawlton interrupted. "Mr Hanson introduced us."

"Oh! You did not mention it, Adelaide. Well then, you know our other news—that my cousin is engaged."

"I knew beforehand. Kem told me."

Adelaide looked up at last, her heart instantly beating at ten times its usual pace at the mere mention of him.

"Is he here this evening?" Oakley asked.

"No." Lady Sawlton turned her eyes on Adelaide, levelling her with a cold look. "He said he could not endure it."

Oakley nodded and ran a finger around his collar. "Excellent foresight as always. I wish I had known it would be this fiendishly hot."

"Does your ladyship know Lord Kemerton?" Adelaide finally plucked up the courage to ask.

Her brother peered at her curiously and laughed. "Rum sort of introduction Hanson must have made if you have come away not knowing this is Kem's sister!"

"What? I… Forgive me, my lady, I did not know, or I would have… It is a pleasure to meet you. When we met, I…" She stopped talking, unnerved by the woman's unrelentingly icy glare and the sudden recollection of her saying, when they met, that she had been looking forward to becoming better acquainted—but was not any more. Did she hate Mr Hanson as much as her brother did? So much that they could not be friends? Or is it me she cannot abide?

Lady Sawlton gave a tight, unfriendly smile. "I believe Mr Hanson was more interested in crowing about his new connections than expounding upon anyone else's."

Oakley looked between them awkwardly and stumbled over his words as he observably rushed to change the subject. "Where is this new husband of yours, then? I must congratulate him, too."

Lady Sawlton explained that he was in the next room and encouraged Oakley to accompany her. She did not look disappointed when Adelaide expressed the intention of waiting where she was for Mr Hanson to return. Oakley dithered and fretted, but Adelaide assured him she could come to no harm left alone for a few minutes, and he eventually left with his friend.

She could not have gone with them. Lady Sawlton's inexplicable animosity was fraying her composure to the point of tears. This was supposed to have been her benign, well-practised, uneventful return to society, free from all the blunders and spectacles of the last year. Yet she was surrounded by calumny, despised by Oakley's friends, and inextricably engaged to a vainglorious self-seeker. She was not sure her evening could get any worse.

"Do you mind if I join you, Miss Richmond?"

A tiny, high-pitched laugh escaped Adelaide before she collected herself and curtseyed. She might have hoped that Kem's absence would at least give her a reprieve from this encounter, but that just seemed to be the way her luck was running today. "Good evening, Lady—" She was not sure what to call her now and had no wish to use the name she probably ought to. She settled on, "Lady Sophia."

The woman she least wished to see in all the world sidled out of the milling crowd and came to stand in a disturbingly furtive stance next to her. She looked even more beautiful than ever. Adelaide was unsurprised; a woman married to Kem must be permanently aglow with happiness.

"I could not help but overhear some of your conversation just now," she began. "I urge you not to take offence. Lady Sawlton , as she styles herself now, has always been conceited and disagreeable. Marriage has clearly done nothing to improve her."

Adelaide knew not how to respond, and so did not. Lady Sophia evidently took it as an invitation to continue and did so in a more hushed tone.

"Miss Richmond, I owe you an apology. I am ashamed of how unkind I was the last time we spoke. It was beneath me to behave in such a way. But you see, Lord Kemerton had only recently broken with me, and I mistakenly thought you were the reason for it."

Adelaide could scarcely hear what Lady Sophia was saying, for blood had started rushing loudly in her ears after her first few words. "He broke your engagement?" she asked breathlessly.

"Oh, we were never actually engaged. Everybody thought it would happen soon— I thought it would happen soon—but when he came to me last autumn, instead of proposing, he told me he could not marry me. After an entire summer spent raising the expectations of all our friends, he started spouting nonsense about us not feeling what we ought to for each other and—" She made a dismissive talking motion with her hand and did not finish the sentence. "But I know now that it was because he was in love with a horrid little thing in the country."

"In love ?" Adelaide exclaimed, far too loudly.

"Well, he did not say that. But I know him, and I know that was what he meant, for he was certainly sweeter on her than he ever was on me. But that is by the bye. The material point is that, when I saw him dancing with you, and heard Miss Hanson saying all those things about you, I thought you must be the woman he had been speaking about."

Adelaide knew she must look like an empty-headed fool, for she had done little but stare and gasp since the conversation began, but she had no words and barely air enough in her lungs to say them if she should think of any.

"It was a foolish assumption," Lady Sophia continued, "and I was very wrong to be so nasty, but I do not mind confessing that I was rather jealous."

"Why are you telling me this now?" Adelaide mumbled. Her lips felt numb, her chest tight.

"Because I have realised I was mistaken. You are engaged to Mr Hanson. It must be another country-town moppet over whom Lord Kemerton is mooning." She tittered, and seemed to expect that Adelaide would join in, for her smile faded when she did not. "Well anyhow, I do hope we can put the incident behind us."

"Yes, of course," Adelaide said. "Thank you for explaining."

Lady Sophia walked away. Adelaide stared after her until she disappeared into the throng, and then stared at the spot where she had last seen her. ‘ We were never engaged.' People bustled around, knocking into her; she continued to stare blankly ahead. ‘He was in love.' Her mind reeled, thoughts tumbling and spinning too fast for any one to be properly grasped. ‘ Your family wants you to come home. As do I.'

Mr Hanson appeared in her field of view. "I could not find them. I shall speak to them when I do."

Adelaide nodded. She felt sick. Worse than sick; shattered.

"Oakley's gone, has he? Are you on your own?"

She nodded again.

"Are you feeling unwell again? I must say, I had not taken you for the sickly type."

Adelaide inhaled deeply. "The wedding at Avonwyke. It was Lady Sawlton's, was it not?"

"It was," he replied warily.

"You knew I thought it was Lord Kemerton's. You let me believe it."

He peered at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I did not set out to deceive you, but when I comprehended that was your assumption, I confess I was in no haste to correct it. I am not sure what else you expected me to do when an earl who is very clearly in love with you turned up at your door, trying to persuade you against me. I have little in my arsenal that can compete with that."

"Perhaps you ought not to have tried to compete. You clearly do not hold me in any great esteem."

"I was simply to step aside, was I? After everything I have done to win your hand. It was me who discovered you, remember? Oakley had you hidden away in the country until I came and persuaded him to share you with the world. I brought you to London, I introduced you to the ton , I showed the world you were a Richmond, a hidden treasure, a beauty that no one else knew about. Where was Lord Kemerton while I was busy making you somebody, eh? I found you, not him. You were not his to claim."

Where had Kem been while Mr Hanson had been hastening her into a life for which she was not ready? She knew the answer to that now—he had been waiting. How she had not understood it before was a mystery, for he had made no secret of it. He had told her that he left Chiltern Court as soon as he realised the delicacy of her newly discovered relationship with her family. He had admitted to thinking she was thrust too quickly into society but nevertheless pledged to support her once he found out she was there. He had been angry when Oakley first talked of her marrying.

He had been waiting for her to become accustomed to her new life, but he had never once left her to face it alone. Where had Mr Hanson been all those long, lonely months of winter, while she had been removed from society? Nowhere. Whereas Kem had come, repeatedly, determinedly, despite being forbidden from speaking to her, simply to ensure she was well. Every time she had run away, who had found her and brought her home, encouraging her that she did belong and helping her family to understand her motives? As sure as the devil, it had not been Mr Hanson.

Kem had been waiting for her to be ready, and in answer to his patience and devotion, she had accepted another man. No wonder his sister hated her. Adelaide thought her heart might cleave in two, so violently did it constrict.

"Yes, I was," she whispered.

Mr Hanson did not hear. He seemed content that his point had been made and was returned to his usual vacuous chatter. Adelaide turned and pushed her way into the crowd, and if he noticed that she was gone, it evidently did not trouble him enough to come after her.