Page 9 of The Spinster and Her Rakish Duke
Samantha’s gaze inevitably found the duke again, now standing near the refreshment table with Signora Marchetti at his side. The opera singer’s hand rested lightly on his arm as she spoke, her dark eyes bright with animation.
“Lady Jane?” the young Lord Ashford had approached Jane, his expression hopeful. “Might I request the honor of taking a turn about the room with you?”
Jane glanced at Samantha, who forced herself to smile and nod encouragingly. “Of course,” Jane said, accepting his offered arm. “I’d be delighted.”
Samantha watched them disappear into the crowd, then found herself alone. The solitude was short-lived.
“Lady Samantha,” came a sickeningly sweet voice behind her. “How lovely to see you again.”
Samantha turned to find Lady Foxdale approaching with two companions, their smiles sharp with malicious intent.
Oh, for Heaven’s sake,she thought.
“Lady Foxdale,” Samantha replied politely. “Good evening.”
“You must be so proud of your dear sister,” Lady Foxdale continued, her eyes scanning Samantha’s appearance with obvious calculation. “She’s quite the success this season. So charming, so young.”
“Jane is indeed wonderful,” Samantha replied, recognizing the trap but unable to avoid it.
“It must be difficult,” Lady Foxdale’s companion, Lady Willington, said with false sympathy, “watching her navigate the marriage mart so successfully when you… well, when your own debut was less… fruitful.”
“How fortunate that you have such a devoted sister,” the third woman added. “Though I imagine it must be rather painful, seeing her capture the attention of so many eligible gentlemen.”
They let the implication hang in the air, their expressions masks of concern that fooled no one.
“I find great joy in my sister’s happiness,” Samantha said, her voice steady despite the heat rising in her cheeks.
“Of course,” Lady Foxdale agreed with mock solemnity. “Though one does wonder what it must feel like to be… overlooked. Repeatedly.”
The women exchanged meaningful glances, clearly savoring Samantha’s discomfort.
“I appreciate your concern, but I believe this is my business, mine alone, and you ladies have much more important topics to discuss,” Samantha smiled, failing to rise to their bait.
Both women colored fiercely, bringing Samantha some satisfaction of her own as they grew bored and drifted away.
Samantha drew a shaky breath, composing herself before scanning the room for Jane. Lord Ashford approached from across the room, carrying two glasses of lemonade and wearing a confused expression.
“Lady Samantha,” he said, looking around uncertainly, “I seem to have lost track of your sister. She said she needed to refresh herself but that was some time ago.”
Samantha’s blood chilled. “How long ago?”
“Perhaps fifteen minutes? I thought perhaps she’d returned to you.”
She forced her expression to remain calm while her mind raced. “I’m certain she’ll return momentarily. Thank you for your concern, Lord Ashford.”
He nodded uncertainly and moved away, leaving Samantha to scan the room with growing alarm.
No sign of Jane anywhere.
She considered approaching her uncle, but he was deep in conversation and had never been particularly helpful in crisis situations.
A new worry struck her. She searched the crowd for Lord Stonehall and found no trace of him either.
Oh no.
The implications were immediate and devastating. If the impulsive young viscount had somehow managed to lure Jane away from the gathering… if he had compromised her reputation through some misguided romantic gesture …
The consequences would be disastrous.
