Lord Thornley grinned, his eyes alight.
“I must hope, then, that you still have one or two dances remaining, Miss Fullerton? I should very much like to enjoy your company in much the same way as Lord Havisham – and given that he cannot dance with you again this evening,Ishall permit myself to feel a little more delight that such a particular pleasure is still to come for me.”
Deborah nodded, still struggling to lift her eyes to either Lord Havisham or Lord Thornley’s face.
“But of course.”
She slipped off her dance card and made to hand it to Lord Thornley, only for Lord Havisham to frown, reach forward and grasp at her hand.
“Alas, Miss Fullerton is not to dance again this evening.”
Her hand fell to her side and heat poured into her face. Whatever was he doing? Was he preventing her from dancing with only Lord Thornley or was this because he believed that she had danced too much already? Perhaps thetonwere speaking of her, and he did not want to encourage the rumors – but why then ask to waltz with her, knowing it would bring her attention from the other guests?
“Havisham!” Lady Havisham placed both hands on her hips as Lord Thornley began to frown. “You cannot prevent Miss Fullerton from dancing, that is most unkind.”
Lord Havisham did not so much as glance at Deborah or his mother, but instead kept his eyes trained on Lord Thornley. His shoulders were a little lifted and his brows pulled tight together as if he were angry with the fellow, although Deborah did not understand why. Shame began to pile itself onto her shoulders as she tried to keep her chin lifted rather than drop it further towards her chest. Whatever Lord Havisham’s reasons, she could not have felt any lower in his eyes than she did at present.
“I see that you seek to protect Miss Fullerton.” Lord Thornley’s eyebrows wiggled but Lord Havisham’s expression did not change. “But you need not concern yourself, Havisham. My intentions are true enough, as I am sure you know.”
Deborah kept her gaze fixed on Lord Havisham, her hands curling tightly into fists as tension flooded her. Lord Thornley was practically declaring that he was interested in furthering his acquaintance with her and yet Lord Havisham seemed entirely unmoved. Why was he behaving so? Part of her wanted to step past him and hand her dance card to Lord Thornley without so much as a by-your-leave but, given her position, Deborah knew that she could not show such disrespect. Lady Havisham settled a hand on Deborah’s arm, her eyes narrowed as she glared at her son, but he did not relent.
“I will not repeat myself, Lord Thornley, nor will I go into any further discussion on the matter either with yourself or with Miss Fullerton.” Lord Havisham’s voice was low, his jaw tight. “I do hope I have made myself clear.”
Lord Thornley said nothing for some moments. His eyes turned towards Deborah, and, with a heavy sigh, he shrugged.
“I shall wait until next time, Miss Fullerton,” he said, unable to find a way to convince Lord Havisham. “Forgive me.”
The lump in her throat would not move and Deborah could only nod as tears began to fill her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she tried to remain steady and calm, only to see Lady Vivian standing just behind Lord Thornley. And as the gentleman moved away, Deborah was left staring at Lady Catherine and Lady Vivian as they stood together. Their eyes were bright with laughter, and they made no attempt to hide their mocking smiles. It was apparent that they had overheard everything, and Deborah finally dropped her head as mortification cut through her heart, leaving her with nothing but pain.
Chapter Eleven
Imust tell her.
“You are very grave this evening.”
Blinking, Jonathan tried to get his bearings, realizing that there were now three gentlemen looking at him expectantly.
“Forgive me, I was lost in thought.” He tried to smile but it faltered. “Where were we?”
“We were discussing the matter of Lady Trithean and her husband,” one of the other gentlemen said. “If she has shamed him, he has every right to divorce her but, for whatever reason, he has chosen not to do so. Perhaps he cannot afford the cost, or perhaps he hopes to avoid scandal. If so, he is too late.”
Jonathan grimaced, then shrugged.
“I am not at all certain that such things are ours to discuss,” he replied, sending a mutter of frustration through the group. “Excuse me. I think I am of little benefit here this evening. I will not hinder your discussion any longer.”
Walking away, glass in hand, Jonathan tried to shake off the lingering tension which lifted his shoulders and strained his back. It had been two days since the ball and since then, Miss Fullerton had very rarely been in his company. His mother had barely said a single word to him, and Jonathan could practically feel her anger radiating from her, whenever he walked into the room. Thus far, he had not given them any explanation for his behavior but that did not mean that he intended to remain silent. By his actions, thetonnow thought that he had considered Miss Fullerton a little too presumptuous at the ball, when that had not been his intention at all. Rather, he had intended to protect her from Lord Thornley whilst, at the same time, making certain not to divulge the truth.
Perhaps he had been wrong there.
Perhaps I could tell her the truth, and then beg her to play act for a short while?His lips flattened as the idea shattered into a thousand pieces.Although why would she do so for my sake? It is not as though the notion would bring her any joy.
Sighing heavily, Jonathan stopped and threw back the rest of his glass of brandy. He did not know what else there was to do. In refusing to allow Miss Fullerton to dance without any other explanation as to why, he had caused her a great deal of pain and yet, even though she did not know it, he had been attempting to protect her from what could follow. He wanted to groan aloud, for no doubt she now thought all the worse of him – perhaps even more so than she had done on their first meeting. And yet, if he told her the truth, then Jonathan feared what would happen if Lord Thornley followed through on his threat. The rumors about himself and Lady Ensley would spread, and might even lead to a duel, should Lord Ensley decide to defend either his wife’s honor or seek retribution. His reputation in London could be ruined and that would leave him rather broken.
“Good evening, Havisham.”
Jonathan was brought up short by the jolly greeting which came from none other than Lord Harrogate. His anger kicked at him hard, but Jonathan contained himself with an effort, knowing that he had to be careful, given that he was at a soiree where almost every other guest could both observe and overhear him.
“You look… fatigued.” Lord Harrogate’s expression changed to one of concern. “Are you unwell?”