An Earl In Want Of A Wife. Laura Martin
the expression on Harriet’s face. Lizzie knew then that Harriet had seen the whole episode and knew that Lizzie’s carelessness was to blame.
‘You must be exhausted after such a long journey.’
‘It was only an hour from the dock.’
‘Mother meant from India,’ Harriet said as she followed them into the room.
‘Oh, of course,’ Lizzie mumbled.
‘Although I never understand why people insist that travelling wearies them. It’s not as though you have to sail the ship yourself.’
Lizzie thought of the endless days of nausea and disequilibrium, the nights she’d spent staring at the rocking ceiling and wishing it were all over. Even now, hours after disembarking, she still felt a little wobbly.
‘Have you ever been on a long sea voyage?’ she asked sweetly.
Harriet shook her head.
‘No, I didn’t think so.’
Lizzie perched on the edge of an uncomfortable armchair and watched as the young woman’s eyes narrowed to slits, and realised she’d just made a big mistake. Her life for the next couple of weeks would be hard enough without making an enemy in the place that was supposed to be her sanctuary.
Either Aunt Mathilda didn’t notice the animosity between the two girls, or she deliberately ignored it.
‘I can’t believe my dear little niece Amelia is here sitting in my drawing room,’ Aunt Mathilda said. ‘The last time I saw you, you were a lovely little thing with pigtails and a gap between your front teeth.’
Lizzie smiled serenely, trying to quell the sickness in her stomach. No doubt Aunt Mathilda was remembering the sweet little blonde-haired girl and wondering when she had turned into this tall brunette. Luckily Amelia’s father had settled in India fourteen years ago and Amelia hadn’t seen her aunt since. Hopefully the older woman would just assume time had changed her sister’s daughter beyond recognition.
‘We’ve got such a busy week planned, my dear,’ Aunt Mathilda said as she rang the bell for a maid. ‘We’ve got dress fittings and shopping trips galore, and at the end of the week you shall make your début.’
Lizzie’s eyes widened.
‘So soon?’ she managed to ask, her voice breaking a little with the surprise. Amelia had assured her it would be weeks before she was meant to make her début. The plan had always been for Lizzie to step into her shoes for a fortnight at the most, and that fortnight would be spent settling into London life, going shopping and strolling round the parks. Neither of them had ever expected Lizzie would actually have to go out in public as Miss Amelia Eastway.
‘Your father was quite insistent,’ Aunt Mathilda said softly. ‘He instructed that you make your début as soon as possible.’
Of course it was all Uncle Robert’s doing. Even Lizzie had to admit Amelia had become a handful in the past few months, although she, of course, knew the reason behind this rebellion. Amelia’s father had sent his daughter to London so she would find a husband and settle down, and by extension not be his problem any longer. It made sense that he had wanted Amelia to be out husband-hunting as soon as possible—it meant less time for her to cause mischief.
Lizzie knew she couldn’t be introduced to London society as Amelia, but right now she couldn’t think of a good reason to give Aunt Mathilda, so instead she just smiled and nodded. She would have to feign an illness, or invent some family tragedy that required a period of mourning. Anything that would push back the début until Amelia returned. Her cousin had promised she would not leave Lizzie alone in London for more than a week, two at the most, and flighty though Amelia was she normally kept her promises. Amelia simply wanted to have a few days of freedom to find the young officer she was enamoured with before being introduced to society. Lizzie had no doubt they would both get into trouble for this ruse, but she was certain Aunt Mathilda would want to keep any hint of the scandal quiet and that would only be possible if she hadn’t been presented to London as the season’s most eligible heiress.
‘But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ Aunt Mathilda said. ‘You’ve had a long and tiring journey and I’m sure you just want to settle in and rest. I will have one of the maids bring some light refreshments to your room.’
‘Thank you,’ Lizzie said and stood. She smiled at her aunt and cousin and exited, but instinct made her pause outside the door, just out of sight.
‘It’s a good job she’s rich,’ Harriet said quietly.
Lizzie heard Aunt Mathilda tut at her daughter, but no reprimand was forthcoming.
‘Don’t tell me you’re not thinking the same, Mother. She’s hardly beautiful and she’s one of the most awkward people I’ve ever seen.’
‘Don’t complain, Harriet, you’ll have enough to contend with when the gentlemen hear how much her dowry is. We want you to make a good match as well, remember.’
‘It’s so unfair,’ the younger woman said. ‘She’ll get to marry someone titled and be a great lady, all because her father has made money in trade. She doesn’t deserve it. Not after what her father did to us.’
Lizzie realised she didn’t want to hear any more. Quietly she slipped away, following a maid upstairs and trying to fight the tears that were forming in her eyes.
Daniel was in a foul mood and he knew he only had himself to blame. He was standing on the perimeter of the Prestons’ ballroom trying to look inconspicuous. And failing quite spectacularly. Already the eligible young women were beginning to flutter their eyelashes in his direction and, even worse, their mothers were looking at him with undisguised interest. He hadn’t attended a society event like this in years; in fact, he could count the number he’d shown his face at on one hand.
Which meant all the young ladies of marriageable age were immediately intrigued, and convinced he must be there to search for a wife.
Daniel groaned. He was there to look for a wife. As little as he wanted his current lifestyle to change, a visit to his accountant that afternoon had put things into perspective. He needed money, and he needed it soon. Hence his presence at the Prestons’ ball this evening, and his need to be sociable and personable.
‘What on earth brings you here, Blackburn?’ A familiar voice broke into Daniel’s thoughts.
Daniel turned and smiled his first genuine smile all evening. The night wouldn’t be such a disaster with Fletcher by his side.
‘I’d have thought that was obvious,’ Daniel said, keeping his expression impassive. ‘I’m here for the scintillating company.’
Fletcher moved to Daniel’s side and perused the ballroom.
‘You’re creating quite the stir. I’ve heard the name Lord Burwell mentioned at least a dozen times and I’ve only been here five minutes.’
Daniel knew he should be pleased, he should want every eligible young woman with a good dowry thrown at him that evening, but he couldn’t quite conjure up the enthusiasm.
Fletcher looked at him appraisingly. ‘You’re looking for a wife,’ he said in a matter-of-fact tone after a few seconds.
‘Good God, is it that obvious?’ Daniel asked, hoping he wasn’t coming off as desperate.
‘There are only three reasons a man comes to these events,’ Fletcher explained. ‘And seeing as you don’t have any female relatives to escort and you don’t need to do any social climbing, it must be to look for a wife.’
Daniel nodded glumly. Fletcher was right, of course, he was there to look for a wife and he felt rather shocked by the fact. Just yesterday he had been a bachelor, firm in his conviction that