Page 6 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

As he strolled through the ballroom, pausing to chat to those he knew, he nodded to Lady Fraughton. She smiled beguilingly at him from where she sat sipping champagne. He wandered over to her. “Alone, my lady?”

She pouted prettily. “As you see.”

“Extraordinary! Where are your devoted admirers? Your husband?”

She shrugged her slender shoulders in her blue dress and waved her painted fan to the left while her gaze remained on Brandon. “Fraughton is amongst the group surrounding the Duke of Wellington.”

“So he is,” he said, quite well aware of where Fraughton was, hanging onto the great man’s words, and being of no value to Brandon at all.

The Master of Ceremonies called from the dais as the musicians took their places.

“Ah, a waltz. Would you favor me with a dance, Lady Fraughton?”

She rose. “Delighted, sir.”

Susan was young enough to be Fraughton’s daughter, and he obviously neglected her. A mistake in Brandon’s opinion, for it drove her into the arms of that nasty piece of work, Marston. Would Fraughton condone their affair? He rather doubted it. The man did not wear his anger on his sleeve, it simmered beneath the surface and was all the more dangerous for it. From what Brandon had learned this morning at the man’s stables, Fraughton had taken a whip to his stable boy and thrashed him within an inch of his young life.

Brandon put a hand on her waist as the orchestra began to play Mozart. As he guided her over the floor, she gazed up at him coquettishly. “Why have you not married, Cartwright?”

“Must everyone be married, madam?”

“It seems the best of both worlds.”

“Does it? Or do you wish to see me suffer the same constraints as you do?”

“Ha! What constraints do men ever suffer? The world is their oyster.” She frowned. “A woman has not the same opportunities.”

He swirled her around, leaving her breathless. “I suspect you make the most of your circumstances. But is it wise?”

Her hand tensed in his. “What do you mean, sir?”

“Some men you can read like a book. Fraughton is not one of them.”

She gave him an arch look. “You are offering me advice, then?”

“Your husband, madam, may not be as compliant as you believe.”

“I declare, you speak in riddles tonight,” she said waspishly. “You are usually more entertaining.”

He bowed his head. “Then I apologize.”

They danced the rest of the waltz in silence. As Brandon led her back to her chair, her hand squeezed his arm. “If you wish to explain those cryptic comments, sir, you know where I live.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Come to your home? I think not.”

“Then send me a note. We shall meet.”

He bowed and left her.

Lady Fraughton might prove the perfect source for the information he required. If he could charm her into providing it. Not an easy task with Marston lurking. No doubt the man, who found himself short of funds after succumbing to the betting tables, might have some plan afoot. At the very least, Brandon imagined Marston would find the fair-haired Susan a most appealing diversion.

As Brandon moved through the crush, Fraughton left Wellington’s side and headed away down the corridor. With a pull on his cuffs, Brandon casually followed.

Chapter Three

Letty was forced to wear the frumpy gown to their next ball, which was held at Lord and Lady Driscoll’s in Grosvenor Square. She feared that had another garment been made at her request, she might like it even less.

This time, her aunt introduced her to more of her acquaintances. Letty danced a quadrille with Mr. Montague, who was of a similar age to her aunt, but quite sprightly. She’d begun to suspect Aunt Edith knew no one under the age of sixty, and again, after sitting for several hours watching the dancers merrily performing their steps, she took herself off to the withdrawing room. Her frowning face stared back at her from the mirror.

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