Page 59 of Dropping the Ball

“No, now!” Lady Gladys shouted, grabbing his arm and jerking him back to face her.

Several of the other couples nearby had been watching the exchange from the beginning and gasped. Whatever hope Bernadette might have had of keeping the awkward arrangements that had been proposed between the three of them a secret were fading fast.

“You must marry me,” Lady Gladys hissed. “Soon. Before the creditors come. Announce it at once.”

“Madam,” Alden said, peeking around furtively and attempting to remove Lady Gladys’s hand from his arm, “this is unseemly.”

“I do not have time for seemly,” Lady Gladys hissed. “I do not have time for–”

“What is the meaning of this?”

A new voice, deep and masculine, with the faintest hint of an accent, called out from the side of the dance floor. Lady Gladys was immediately forgotten as everyone turned to see who had asked the question.

Bernadette gasped so hard when she saw that she nearly fell into a coughing fit. There he was. She hadn’t seen him for over ten years, but there was no mistaking Lord Harold Hethersett.

Chapter Twenty

If it was excitement Alden wanted at his ball, it was excitement he got. From the moment the tall, powerfully built gentleman dressed in a style reminiscent of Scandinavia shouted his question from the lawn closer to the terrarium, everyone from the servants to the musicians to the silliest of the young ladies attending the ball paused what they were doing to take note.

Alden did not need Bernadette’s softly whispered, “Hethersett,” to guess who the man was. His new guest could not have been anyone else. Hethersett looked every bit like the heroic diplomat Alden knew him to be. More disconcerting, the man was handsome and had a commanding presence to him. Even the brash young bucks who were on the hunt for wives with good fortunes gave way to him as he marched closer to where Alden, Bernadette, and Lady Gladys stood to the side of the dance floor.

A pang of jealousy that was as frustrating as it was unexpected rose up in Alden. How could he possibly hope to compete witha man as obviously powerful and desirable as Lord Hethersett? Several of the young ladies who had not shown the slightest bit of interest in him stood straighter, smiled, and pinched color into their cheeks as Hethersett passed. The other young men looked equally as anxious, knowing that a superior male had entered their midst.

It was only just before Hethersett reached them that Alden noticed the man had not arrived alone. An older man had followed him to the dance floor. One that bore a striking resemblance to Bernadette. A blonde woman who appeared to be in her early thirties had arrived with Hethersett as well, though she hung back nervously on the lawn. Of all things, she had three young, blond children with her, who looked around at the guests and the decorations in awe.

“Papa!” Bernadette said with even more surprise than she’d uttered Hethersett’s name. “Whatever are you doing here?”

Alden glanced to the older man, as curious about the answer to that question as Bernadette was.

Indeed, everyone at the ball seemed to collectively hold their breath and lean in, eager to know what new twist the drama of the evening had brought. Alden was grateful that his cousins, particularly Waldorf, and Bernadette’s friends pushed their way through the crowd of guests so that they could be close if things went very wrong.

Bernadette’s father, Lord Attleborough, grunted and growled, shifting restlessly and tugging at the hem of his coat. He appeared entirely too uncomfortable for an older gentleman coming to take his daughter to task for falling in love where she should not. All he could say for himself was a curt, “Ask him,” while nodding to Hethersett.

All eyes turned to Hethersett. Alden was just as eager as the rest of them to get to the bottom of the strange turn of events.

Hethersett clearly did not like the attention directed at him. He cleared his throat and adjusted his stance like a man trying to appear commanding instead of embarrassed. “Lady Bernadette,” he said with a nod to Bernadette, “I trust you are well?”

Even Alden thought that was a strange and frosty greeting by a man for his wife, especially since he and Bernadette had been regular correspondents for years.

“I am well,” Bernadette began to say in a dazed voice, then shook her head. The gesture disturbed Egbert, who adjusted his place around her neck to come into clearer view. Hethersett’s eyes widened, but he did not have time for a larger reaction before Bernadette went on with, “Actually, no, I am not well at all,” she said.

“Yes, I could see,” Hethersett said with a crisp nod. He then surprised everyone by glancing to Lady Gladys and saying, “It appeared as though this woman was attempting to interrupt your dance most rudely.”

Alden could have been knocked over with a feather. That was not even close to anything he would have expected Bernadette’s husband to say.

“Who are you, my lady?” Hethersett went on to ask.

It was a testament to the man’s dominance that Lady Gladys blinked and stammered, then answered him with, “I am Lady Gladys Minstead of Emory Down, a close friend and neighbor of Lord Alden.” She glanced to Alden as if begging for help.

Hethersett turned to study Alden as well with a look of surprise and appraisal. “Oh, so you are Lord Alden Godwin?”

Still without the first idea what was going on, Alden answered, “I am, sir,” with a respectful nod. “And I believe you are Lord Harold Hethersett, Lady Bernadette’s husband.”

“I am not,” Hethersett said with frown, glancing to Lord Attleborough.

Alden was more confused than ever. “Not Lord Hethersett?” he asked.

Hethersett let out an impatient breath, still frowning at Lord Attleborough. Lord Attleborough seemed to shrink in on himself.

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