An Impossible Attraction. Brenda Joyce
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and the cruel confrontation had not been helpful. She glanced about, hoping to sit down.
“Miss Bolton, may I introduce you to my good friend, Squire Landon?” Denney said as he returned to her, smiling and in good spirits. “George, Miss Bolton and her two sisters, Olivia and Corey. And Edgemont, of course, you know.”
Her father had caught up to them, as well, Alexandra noticed, then managed to smile at Squire Landon and wish him a pleasant evening. As Landon began to ask Denney about a bull he’d recently purchased, she heard a woman whispering behind her.
“A disgrace…drunk every single night…the gaming…his daughters…”
Alexandra felt her cheeks burning as she strained to hear exactly what the woman was saying, but the gist was clear. Edgemont was a disgrace, and everyone present knew it.
Corey was oblivious—peering wide-eyed at everyone and everything. Alexandra glanced at Olivia, who was staring at an oddly familiar blond man. She didn’t think she knew him, yet the feeling remained that she did. She took a deep breath. Maybe the worst was over.
But then she saw that three older women were staring at her and her sisters now, and she knew that the worst was far from over.
They were whispering behind their gloved hands, and she felt certain they were discussing her or her sisters or her father. Alexandra trembled and turned her back to them. “Father, do you know those ladies?”
He glanced toward them and paused. “Actually, although it has been a while, those ladies were all friends of your mother’s. Lady Collins was especially close. God, it seems so long ago! She is looking very well, actually.”
“She isn’t looking very friendly,” Olivia remarked. “She is shooting daggers at us.”
“That cannot be. She was very friendly with Elizabeth. Come, let’s say hello.”
Alexandra said quickly, “We haven’t met our hosts yet.”
“There are a dozen people ahead of us,” Edgemont insisted. “And Squire Denney is preoccupied with his friend. Lady Collins!” He hurried over.
Reluctantly—exchanging grim looks with her sisters—Alexandra followed. Lady Collins’s expression was as cold as ice.
“It is good to see you again,” Edgemont said.
She inclined her head. “Hello, Edgemont. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I am most surprised to be here myself,” he said cheerfully. “Do you recall my daughters?”
Alexandra held her head high as Lady Collins said she didn’t believe they’d ever met. Polite handshakes were exchanged. “Enjoy your evening,” Lady Collins said, then left them, making no attempt to hide her desire to get away as quickly as possible.
Edgemont flushed. “By God, she’s changed.”
“This is a mistake,” Alexandra said softly. “I am a seamstress now. I sew for half a dozen of these women. They resent my being here.”
“You have every right! You are Squire Denney’s guest, and Lady Harrington will be thrilled to see you.”
Alexandra turned to look at her sisters, who seemed distraught and dismayed now. She wished she hadn’t spoken so openly. Then, across their heads, she saw her escort. Denney smiled at her and indicated that he would return in another moment. He was surrounded by gentlemen now. Clearly he was well liked.
Three couples were ahead of them on the receiving line. The knot in her stomach had grown and was aching now. Her head hurt. What had she been thinking, to come out this way with Olivia and Corey? She overheard the matron at the front of the line going on and on about how lovely Sara was—how graceful, how genteel. It was true. Of course Sara de Warenne, a nice enough young lady, did not lack for anything.
“Jilted.”
She turned and saw a woman staring cruelly at her. If looks could kill, she would have dropped over on the spot. She focused on making out what the woman was saying to her friend.
“At the altar?” The friend gasped, looking at Alexandra with malicious delight.
“Yes, she was jilted right at the altar. I recall it so well now.” The first woman smiled with triumph at Alexandra. “She got what she deserved. St. James came to his senses—and married a proper title from a proper family.”
Alexandra whirled, putting her back to the two matrons, aghast. Olivia whispered, “Did I just hear what I thought I did? Were those two ladies saying that Owen jilted you?”
Of all she had endured up to that point, that lie hurt the most, and to think Olivia had heard it, too. “It doesn’t matter, Olivia,” she said, feeling oddly faint now. She realized she was too exhausted to linger at Sara’s birthday ball. She looked around for a chair. Seats lined the entry hall, many of them taken. But only two couples were ahead of them in the queue now; she would have to see this through.
She touched her throbbing temples. If she were at home, she would have lain down with an ice pack.
“Why would anyone say such a thing, when it is patently untrue?” Olivia demanded in a hushed tone.
Alexandra managed to sound calm. “I’m sure the lie wasn’t deliberate. Undoubtedly they haven’t recalled the past correctly, that is all. I’m sure those ladies made an innocent mistake.” But she wasn’t certain, not at all.
“Gossip is like wildfire,” Olivia said. “Once it starts, it is impossible to control.”
“I think those ladies are hateful,” Corey said.
Alexandra’s temples throbbed painfully now. She put her arm around Corey. “No one is hateful. And we should not be eavesdropping.”
“They wanted us to hear,” Corey said, twisting away.
“Why don’t we change the topic? We came here to enjoy the evening,” Alexandra suggested.
“How can we enjoy the evening now?” Olivia asked, clearly worried. “Although a small scandal might chase Squire Denney away.”
Alexandra choked. Her despair seemed complete.
She had barely slept in days, mired in so much stress and anxiety since her father’s shocking announcement. Last night she had worked herself to exhaustion—to the point of having numb fingertips. Suddenly she knew that no matter how close she was to the front of the queue, she must sit down—at once. She did not feel well, not at all.
The room spun.
The lights dulled and grayed.
I am not going to faint, Alexandra thought, horrified. If I faint, there will be even more gossip.
But the floor tilted wildly anyway.
As she reached out blindly, she crashed into a hard male body—and a strong arm went around her. For one moment she was filled with disbelief; she hadn’t felt such masculinity in almost a decade. Her heart slammed to a stop, then began hammering. Hard and muscular, her rescuer enveloped her in warmth. Breathless, Alexandra looked helplessly up…
And found herself gazing into the most piercing—and most beautiful—blue eyes she had ever seen.
With utter calm, the man said, “Let me help you to a chair.”
She meant to reply, she really did, but she couldn’t form words. She could only stare at his stunningly handsome face—at those long-lashed eyes, which had turned languid and sensual now, at the straight, patrician line of his well-formed nose, at the curve of his cuttingly high cheekbones. She simply could not breathe. He was devastating, and it had been so long since she had been in a man’s arms.
And her body knew it. It tightened, swelled. Her heart slammed again. Desire was a fist to her midsection, robbing her of all air.
And