Chapter Two

Foolish girl.

Matthew flicked one hand towards the footman standing nearby. "Another."

The footman obliged at once, stepping away to fetch a second brandy, though Matthew was quickly joined by not one but three of his grinning friends.

"Lord Dover, Lord Stephenson?" Matthew narrowed his eyes in jest as he looked to his third – and closest – friend. "Lord Rutherford. Is there something that I can do for you all?"

"You did leave the ball rather quickly," Lord Stephenson said, as the other two nodded. "We presumed that you must be a little ill at ease after what happened and we thought to come and make certain that all was quite well."

"Given that I have only come to the card room, I hardly think that this could be considered leaving the ball."

"You have not come back to our conversation, however," Lord Dover put in. "Nor have you sought to dance with anyone. That is considered leaving, I think?"

Lord Rutherford threw up his hands. "It was an accident, old boy! You need not step away from the joviality of the ball – and all the very fine ladies who wish for your company – because of one young lady."

Matthew scowled. "I did not appreciate being berated in front of the other guests."

His friends all glanced at each other and Matthew's scowl deepened.

"You think that I brought that upon myself, I suppose," he grated. "I am sure that the lady in question was quite foolish, that she knocked into me or some such thing. Thereafter, I lost my footing and that is why she is injured."

"No doubt," Lord Stephenson said, in a tone which told Matthew that he did not believe him. "But all the same, you did as was told of you and though that must have been a little frustrating, it is done and the lady is being cared for."

"I did not apologise," Matthew told him, seeing Lord Rutherford's eyebrows lift. "I made certain to say that I did not mean to injure her and –"

"Then you shall have to call tomorrow."

Matthew blinked, his eyebrows now falling low over his eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

James, the Earl of Rutherford, had been Matthew's friend for as long as Matthew could remember. They had played together as children, had gone to Eton together and he could always rely on him in every situation. He was also known for being rather blunt, for speaking just as he saw things and though it was a quality that Matthew appreciated, it was, mayhap, not something that he wished to hear at the present moment.

It appeared he was going to be given Lord Rutherford's thoughts regardless, however.

"You wish to blame the lady and whether you are determined to believe yourself quite without fault, you must still, as a gentleman, go to apologise. It is expected and you should certainly do such a thing, if you do not want your reputation to be damaged."

Lord Dover and Lord Stephenson glanced at each other but said nothing, leaving Matthew's frustration to grow. Evidently, they agreed with Lord Rutherford, else they would have said outright. It seemed that he was outnumbered.

"I have no desire to go and speak with the lady," he grumbled, recalling how he had pulled her into his arms and seen her hazel eyes widen in shock, her face white. He had felt not a single iota of sympathy nor of desire. "It will be a waste of my time and I have already made plans to go and call upon a few various young ladies of society."

Lord Dover snorted. "No doubt to try and ascertain their interest in you rather than having any real interest in them themselves, yes?"

Matthew shrugged, having no inclination to hide such a thing from his friends given that they all knew him so well. "I am already interested to know which young ladies hope for more of my attentions. That does not mean that I am eager to give them, of course! It is only because I find myself… drawn to that notion."

Lord Stephenson rolled his eyes. "You simply like knowing that there are many young ladies – and older ladies – in London who are desperate for your attentions. It pleases you to know that when you walk into a ballroom, a good many eyes are resting upon you. Is that not so?"

Considering this for a moment – and taking no offence at it – Matthew shrugged for the second time and then let himself smile. "That may be the truth but I shall not properly admit to it." Silently, he acknowledged that everything Lord Stephenson had said was quite true but he would certainly never admit to it. Yes, it did fill him with delight to know that there were so many young ladies who admired him and sought his interest, what was so troublesome about that?

"It will not take you long to call upon the lady and apologise," Lord Rutherford told him, bringing the subject back to the young lady. "What was her name, now? I might be acquainted with her."

"Lady Sarah." Matthew saw his friend nod slowly. "Her father is the Earl of Harcastle."

Lord Rutherford's expression cleared. "Ah yes, of course. That gentleman is very wealthy and very influential indeed, I must say. He has a strong mind when it comes to business and I know that many a gentleman has gone to him for advice. It would be wise of you not to set yourself against such a gentleman."

Matthew snorted. "I have more than enough wealth to keep me satisfied."

"Be that as it may, it is your reputation I am concerned about. If Lord Harcastle tells anyone that he thinks poorly of you, then I can assure you that society will no longer take such a favorable look." Lord Rutherford tilted his head and arched one eyebrow. "And as you have just said, you do enjoy being admired."

"I did not say that… precisely," Matthew said, somewhat fiercely, though the way his friend grinned took away some of his irritation. "Very well, if I must then I shall go and speak with Lady Sarah and apologise. Tomorrow, of course."

"And bring flowers," Lord Dover added, as Lord Rutherford nodded. "That will show that you truly are contrite, even if you are not."

"Flowers?" Matthew grimaced. "I have not brought flowers to a lady in many a month. I believe that the last time I did so, it was to my mother!"

This made all his friends laugh, though that had not been Matthew's intention.

"All the more reason for you to do so. It will be good for you to show consideration in that marked way," Lord Rutherford told him. "And why do you not tell the young lady that it has been so long since you brought flowers to someone? That will make her feel all the more that you are truly apologetic, I am sure."

Seeing that there was now no way for him to escape this, no way for him to choose not to do as his friends suggested, Matthew let out a long, pronounced sigh but no one made any other remark, no-one expressed sympathy or the like to him. Instead, they began talking of something else, speaking of which young lady they were to dance with next and Matthew slowly sank down in his chair, his expression still dark and his frustration very much present.

There was to be nothing for it, however. He would have no other choice but to call upon Lady Sarah and express his apologies profusely, even though he would not be speaking a single, genuine word. He would have to do it, however, and perhaps then, Matthew considered, he would be able to return to society and all that he enjoyed without giving the lady a further thought.

***

"Good afternoon, Lady Sarah. I have come to see how you fare this afternoon." Matthew bowed his head, aware of the ball of impatience which was, at present, rattling around within him. He did not want to be here. He did not want to spend time in this young lady's company, having no interest in her whatsoever and yet, here he was, bowing and smiling and holding out the bouquet of roses he had purchased for her. "I do hope that my foolishness last evening has not caused you too great a pain?"

Lady Sarah gestured to the maid to take the roses from him, her chestnut curls swinging gently from where they had been pulled to the back of her head. Then she turned her gaze to him, steady as she watched him though as yet, she had not said a single word.

Matthew cleared his throat, his hands clasped behind his back. "I – I suppose that I must also apologise for my behaviour last evening. I was not considerate nor was I careful and I am mortified that you were brought to such pain."

"It is good to hear that there is some contrition, at least."

Matthew turned his head, just to see the lady of the house walk into the room, her eyes flashing with evident anger as he bowed to her.

"I confess that I was greatly upset, not only that you injured my daughter but that, thereafter, you did not think to apologise," Lady Harcastle said, folding her arms over her chest as her eyes narrowed. "I am appreciative that you carried my daughter to a place where she might rest but I do believe that not even a single word of apology was spoken to her? That is something of a disgrace and – "

"Mama, Lord Downfield has come now to apologise." Lady Sarah spoke with a firmness to her tone, her words clear and her gaze now fixed to her mother. "I do not think that we need to berate him now."

Lady Harcastle sniffed and then looked away. "All the same, I – "

"Might we fetch a tea tray?" Lady Sarah gestured to Matthew, her eyes now turning to him rather than to her mother. "You will stay for a few minutes, I hope? We can make certain that there is no lingering tension, no uncertain feeling between us any longer and all will be well." Her eyes widened just a fraction, followed by a very swift glance towards her mother and, despite himself, Matthew smiled. The lady was clearly attempting to make it plain to him that her own mother would not be satisfied with a mere apology from him, from only a few minutes standing on her floor. If he wanted to be done with the matter, if he wished for his life to return to the same happiness and freedom as he had been enjoying these last few weeks, then he would be required to take tea and to sit with Lady Sarah and Lady Harcastle for a time.

But there is still Lady Sophia whom I wish to call upon, he reminded himself, clearing his throat as he looked away. And Lady Bettina who is expecting me also.

"A few minutes, of course." Begrudgingly, he sat down in a chair indicated to him by Lady Harcastle. "I am truly sorry for what took place, Lady Sarah. I should have taken more care."

"And you should not have blamed my daughter for your own foolishness."

Matthew hid his grimace with an effort but nodded. "You are quite correct there also, Lady Harcastle. I should not have placed any sort of blame on your daughter. It was entirely my own doing and I am very sorry indeed for the pain which has been caused."

"It is quite all right. I understand that these things can happen, especially when there is a great crush." Lady Sarah offered him a small smile though her eyes did not linger on his for more than a brief moment. "Ah, here is the tea now."

" I will pour it, since you cannot," Lady Harcastle said, the emphasis making Matthew wince. "The doctor says that my daughter will have to rest for a fortnight, Lord Downfield. Two weeks! Two weeks that she shall be out of society!"

Lady Sarah coughed quietly. "That is not quite correct, Mama," she said, as Lady Harcastle rose to pour the tea. "I am to stay resting for a sennight but thereafter, can attend soirees and balls, just so long as I do not dance or spend too long on my feet."

Lady Harcastle sniffed. "All the same, it is most inconvenient and dreadfully unfair to a young lady such as yourself who is looking for a match this Season. You have truly done her a disservice by your actions, Lord Downfield. I do hope you realise the extent of it."

Matthew opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again. Every moment here was agony, his words burning on his lips as he forced them back, determined that he would not speak defensively given that it would, no doubt, cause all the more difficulty for him. It was best simply to endure, he told himself, so that he would not find himself berated all the more.

"Are you in London for the Season, Lord Downfield?" Lady Sarah's voice was gentle enough but she was still refusing to look at him for any more than a brief moment and for whatever reason, that displeased him.

"Yes, I am. I have been in London for a good many Seasons and I have not tired of them as yet." That much was true, for Matthew had attended the Season just as soon as he had been able and given that he did not have to make a debut as the young ladies of London did, it had been at a somewhat young age when he had first stepped into society. "I took on the title at only three years ago, however," he clarified, seeing Lady Harcastle's brows furrow, "but I was in London for a good many years before that, you understand."

"And you have still not taken a bride?" Lady Harcastle asked, making Lady Sarah drop her head, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red. "That is a little surprising, is it not? I would have thought that a gentleman with your standing and your title would have been eager to produce the heir."

"Mama," Lady Sarah breathed but Lady Harcastle only shrugged, clearly not in the least bit concerned about what it was that either Sarah or Matthew himself thought of her bold question.

"It is not yet the right time," Matthew answered, stiffly. "For the moment, Lady Harcastle, I am quite contented to attend London and enjoy myself there, with my acquaintances and close friends. It makes for an excellent few months and, given what has been a rather difficult year as regards some of my business matters, it is a good respite."

Lady Harcastle's eyebrows lifted but Matthew rose quickly to his feet, having barely taken even a sip of his tea.

"And I shall take my leave of you now, so that you do not become wearied by my presence," he said, bowing quickly. "Do excuse me, Lady Sarah, Lady Harcastle. I pray, once again, that you would accept my apologies for what happened last evening and for the suffering that you are going through. Good afternoon."

"I do expect you to call again, Lord Downfield?"

Matthew stopped, turning to see Lady Harcastle now on her feet, her hands at her hips and her eyes sharp as she lifted her chin just a notch.

"You will call again, will you not?"

Despite this being a question, Matthew heard it more as a statement – one that he had no choice but to agree to. He could refuse, of course, he could say that he had no intention of coming back to call upon her again but then, in doing so, he would risk the wrath of Lord Downfield who might wish to tell others about his refusal.

"Indeed, I shall," he muttered, inclining his head towards the lady who was now looking back at him with rather wide eyes, her hands in her lap though Matthew could see the shock of his words twisting through her expression. "I will call again very soon. Good afternoon, Lady Harcastle." He bowed and, with relief crashing over him, stepped out of the room and quickly made his way back along to the front of the house.

The sooner she recovers, the better it shall be for me this Season , he told himself as the door was opened for him and he stepped outside. Goodness, what a dreadful situation! Once I am free of her, I shall return to my happy situation and forget all about Lady Sarah and her injury. That shall be a sweet relief indeed!