Chapter 6

6

"H ow are you enjoying the ball, my lady?"

Tricia looked around. Where was everyone? Somehow she'd allowed Lord Polk to escort her out of the ballroom. They stood in the grand marble foyer, where a few servants were bustling about, paying them no mind.

"It's the most elegant ball I've ever been to," Patricia said. "Of course, I had never been to a ball at all until my brother received his earldom. And at that time, I was but fifteen and relegated to the balconies to watch the festivities from above."

"I'm sure many a young gentleman saw you when he looked up and wished you were down dancing with the rest."

"I don't know about that." Tricia's cheeks warmed, and she knew she was blushing.

But she didn't want to be blushing for Lord Polk. He was a nice enough gentleman, and certainly handsome. From an excellent bloodline as well, as far as she knew.

But her heart belonged to the new Earl of Ashford, Thomas Jameson.

It had belonged to Thomas for four years.

"I would love to have another dance with you later," Lord Polk said.

"Perhaps," Tricia said demurely. "I'm afraid my dance card is quite full."

"Well, there will be more balls." He delicately placed a hand on her shoulder. "Might I call on you sometime?"

Tricia pressed her lips together, preparing her words carefully. "My mother, sister, and I are staying here at the Ashford estate for the duration of the house party, but after that we're returning to our townhome in London for the rest of the season."

"I'm happy to call on you there. Will you be receiving next week?"

Tricia had not given it much thought. She didn't want to receive any male visitors. She was here on the estate with the object of her affection, Thomas. She was hoping to catch his attention at some point, and she certainly didn't need other men around.

On the other end, however, what could it hurt? Why not keep her options open?

The Polk estate wasn't worth nearly as much as the Ashford Estate, and Victor was a third son, but surely he received a sizeable allowance that would enable them to live a lovely life together.

But that wasn't the true reason she was considering this. Not at all. She had no interest in Lord Polk.

She was interested only in Thomas. But would it hurt to have Thomas think there were other men who sought her affections?

A smile began to edge onto her lips. "You may call upon me, my lord. I should be honored."

"It is I who should be honored," he said with a bow. Then he stepped closer to Tricia.

She stepped backward. "I do believe we should return to the ballroom." She glanced around, her nerves skittering. All the servants who had been in the foyer were now gone. No one was here. Only she and Polk and a few lit torches. At least they were not in total darkness.

"Could I interest you in a stroll?" he asked.

Tricia swallowed and looked to the floor. "I should need a chaperone, my lord."

"Not for a mere stroll around the garden," he said. "I should take you no farther than the balcony."

She had no interest in a walk with Lord Pork, but she was dreadfully hot in her ensemble. Why did it have to be so damned uncomfortable to be a lady? The corset alone was so constricting. And the rest of her ensemble was just stifling.

"I suppose it would be all right," she said, "but only for a few moments. My mother will miss me. And of course my brother, the earl, certainly wouldn't want to see me alone outside with a gentleman."

"I'm sure your brother would force me into marriage if he saw us together outside," Lord Polk said. "I have not yet chosen my bride, not that you're not high in the running. But I would not ask this of you if it were impertinent in any way. You must know that, my lady."

Tricia nodded. She allowed Lord Polk to escort her out of the foyer and forward to one of the balconies. The March air was slightly brisk, but it felt good on her flesh, what little of it was exposed. She breathed in—as far as she could with her corset so tight—and enjoyed the feel of the crisp evening air.

The flowers were beginning to bloom, and their sweet floral scent infused itself into her lungs as she breathed. So much more enjoyable than the air in London, which was always thick with refuse and waste.

"You do look lovely in the moonlight, my lady."

"Thank you, my lord."

Lord Polk regarded Tricia's face with admiration shining in his gaze. "Your blue eyes sparkle as if infused with the very stars of the midnight sky."

It wasn't quite midnight, was it? These balls were known to go on until the wee hours of the morning. Tricia had been so excited for her first ball, and she wasn't the slightest bit fatigued.

She wasn't sure how to respond to Lord Polk's words. She still knew so very little about being a lady of society. Her sister-in-law, Rose, had educated her, but Tricia had been a bit inattentive in her lessons. She both loved and hated the idea of the season. If only she could enjoy the parties, elegance, and festivities of the season without dressing in such restrictive clothing. She did enjoy how she appeared in the looking glass, but before her ascent into society, she wore mostly peasant dresses, and she looked just as pretty in them while still being able to draw in a deep breath.

"You are the most beautiful woman here," Lord Polk said.

Now she was growing anxious. "Lord Polk, I believe I should like to return to the ball anon."

"Yes, of course, my lady." But he made no move to leave the balcony. Instead, he reached for her gloved hand, and then he pulled her to him, trailing his fingers up her arm to cuff her cheek. "I do so admire your beauty and your charm."

Tricia tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. He was too close to her. She was exceedingly uncomfortable, and she didn't know what to do. Surely someone else would come to the balcony. It was only a matter of time.

"My lady..." And then, as if time had slowed down to a snail's pace, Lord Polk leaned closer, closer, closer...until his lips brushed lightly over hers.

Tricia stepped backward quickly, and before she knew what was happening, her hand had come out and she slapped Lord Polk on his left cheek.

Polk scowled and closed his hands into fists. "Why, you little?—"

"You'd best not finish that sentence, Polk," a deep voice said.

For one split second, Tricia thought the man of her dreams, Thomas Jameson, had come after her.

But it was not Thomas. His cousin, Jonathan Jameson, had broken up the kiss between her and Lord Polk. Their voices were hauntingly similar.

"I beg pardon, Jameson," Lord Polk said.

"Once I tell my cousin what you've tried to do, he will have your head, Polk."

"He won't care," Polk said. "I saw him steal a kiss from Lady Patricia the day of his father's funeral."

Tricia's hand went straight to her mouth as she gasped.

Jonathan scowled. "I should wallop you for making it sound like Lady Patricia is anything other than an innocent maiden." He turned to Tricia. "Unless you care to admit that you and my cousin shared a kiss that day."

Tricia's cheeks were warm and fiery. "I admit no such thing. You are a cad, Lord Polk."

Polk took a step back, his face red as a beet. But then his features softened, and he hung his head, sighing.

"I deeply apologize, my lady." He offered a bow. "I was out of line and behaved abominably."

Tricia simply nodded.

"Would you care to let me escort you back into the ballroom, Lady Patricia?" Mr. Jameson asked.

"I believe I should like that very much." She took Mr. Jameson's offered arm and strolled back toward the ballroom.

Lord Polk followed them briskly, entering the ballroom as if nothing had happened between Tricia and him.

Once in the ballroom, Patricia excused herself to powder her nose. She quickly exited, being careful to dodge out of the eyeline of Lord Polk. She needed more air, and she needed it without anyone in tow. And she didn't need a bloody chaperone, either.

She sneaked out of the ballroom and walked through the foyer and down one of the hallways. She had been to this estate several times, but never had she had the chance to do any exploring. The Ashfords were known to have a lovely art collection, and though Patricia was more interested in the written word than in art, she would love to see it. It was also rumored that the Ashfords had a wonderful collection of musical instruments. No doubt Cameron had enjoyed seeing all of those. Patricia herself was not very musical. More interesting to her were the fine horses in the Ashford stables. Tricia was an expert rider, and she had a lovely mare named Mary.

Cam had laughed at her when she named her horse Mary. Mary the mare , he had said. Not too creative . Patricia hadn't been trying to be creative when she named the animal. Indeed she loved the name, and should she ever be so fortunate as to bear a baby girl, Mary would be her name.

She strode along the hardwood hallways, sliding along to keep from tapping on the hard floor. Her guest room was on the third floor, and that was the highest she had ever been in this mansion. But the house did have an upper floor and then an attic on top of that. Tricia found herself curious, and so she decided to do a little discovery. Thomas hadn't looked her way all evening, so why should she stay in the ballroom only to have to watch him dance with other ladies?

She'd return to the ball in a few moments' time, but for now, she wanted to see the upper floor of the mansion on the estate.

Katrina was probably already in bed. Perhaps she should check on her little sister. She would do that on her way down.

She strode up the stairwell, again taking care not to click her heels. Servants wouldn't be up here, not at this hour. But none of the guest rooms were on this level. Indeed, Tricia didn't even know what would be up here.

And what she did find was a surprise indeed.