Page 41 of Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman

By the end of the meal, energised by the discussions around her, she’d even grown bold enough to make an enquiry here, or ask a question there, earning an approving nod from Trowbridge—and drawing upon herself so intense a scrutiny from the only other young man present that she felt a blush heat her cheeks.

Finally, to Amanda’s disappointment, the covers were cleared and her hostess rose, signalling the ladies to withdraw. ‘We’ll grant you gentlemen one brandy,’ Lady Ravensfell said, ‘but with the ball soon to follow, we’ll expect you shortly in the salon.’

Still glowing with enthusiasm, Amanda followed her hostess out of the dining salon. To her delight, for she hoped to hear more political discourse before the ball began, by the time the ladies returned from freshening themselves and their gowns in the retiring room, the gentlemen were filing into the parlour.

From across the room where he’d gone to greet his mother, Lord Trowbridge spied her and walked over, Lady Ravensfell on his arm.

‘Miss Neville, I hope you weren’t too bored by the dinner discussion,’ her hostess said. ‘These gentleman will talk nothing but politics.’

‘On the contrary, my lady, I found it fascinating!’ Amanda exclaimed. ‘In fact—and I fear Lord Trowbridge must confirm this—I was so absorbed in listening to the discussions that I was a very poor dinner partner.’

‘Miss Neville, you cannot believe I would be so unchivalrous as to assert any such thing!’ Lord Trowbridge protested. ‘Mama, she is the most charming dinner partner imaginable.’

Lady Ravensfell gazed at her for so long, Amanda felt alarm spiral in her belly. ‘I believe she is,’ her hostess said at last.

At that moment, the butler beckoned to their hostess. ‘I hope you will enjoy the ball as well, Miss Neville. If you’ll excuse me, I must attend to some matters before the other guests arrive.’

Lord Trowbridge was called away also. Unwilling to approach any of the senior officials or their wives on such slight acquaintance, Amanda stepped towards the wall, out of the flow of guests, waiting for Lady Parnell to finish conversing with a sombre-looking older gentleman she identified as Lord Melcombe.

Oh, how pleased and excited Mama and Grandmama would have been to have attended the dinner tonight! Smiling, Amanda let her mind run through again all the fascinating snippets of information she’d gained from the very lips of the men responsible for creating policy.

‘Pressed into silence by all this weighty discourse, Miss Neville?’ a voice at her elbow enquired.

She whirled around to find herself facing the young man who’d nearly stared her out of countenance at the dinner table. From Lady Parnell’s whispered commentary before dinner, she recalled that he was a cousin to Trowbridge.

‘Not at all, Mr Hillyard. I found the discussions fascinating.’

‘Ah. You’ve passed the test, then.’

‘Test?’

‘If you want to retain Lucien’s favour, you must be up to snuff in the political arena. From what I saw at dinner, you performed brilliantly. Trowbridge was certainly watching you like an Oxford don with his prize pupil. I must confess, I was impressed myself. Seldom do I find a chit worthy of the hyperbole when I hear some new nonpareil praised to the skies. In this case, you may deserve the accolades.’

Some ‘new nonpareil’—did he mean her? Amanda frowned, not sure she liked being discussed in such irreverent terms. Were the gentleman not related to her hostess, she’d give him a sharp set-down, but since that was impossible, she said coolly, ‘I’d prefer the “weighty discourse”, if you please.’

Hillyard merely laughed. ‘Most young ladies would be thrilled to have set the ton buzzing even before their first appearance at a society ball. I predict the speculation will increase even more after your attendance at dinner tonight. Poised and intelligent, as well as beautiful and well dowered? I might have to enter the lists myself.’

‘Please don’t go to any unaccustomed trouble,’ she flashed back, wishing he would leave and skirting as close to insult as she dared.

‘Ah, a razor wit as well—better still. But you needn’t fear I will plague you. Lucien would never have let his mama invite me if I were considered a contender for your favour. For one, I’m not a marrying man. Even should I be tempted to join the fray, Lady Parnell would never countenance your dallying with a man of my inadequate funds and…scandalous reputation.’

Was he trying to shock her with his unsettling conversation, as he’d tried to rattle her by staring at her during dinner? Torn between anger and exasperation, she said, ‘I might be only a simple country miss, but even I know Lady Ravensfell would not have invited a man who was truly a rogue.’

‘A reasonable assumption on the face of it,’ he replied, ‘except that, being not only kin to the Trowbridges, but wholly dependent upon them, they believe me intelligent enough not to alienate the providers of my income by trying to debauch a girl Lucien favours right under his nose.’

By now, growing more accustomed to his frank speech, she observed, ‘Since when do rogues respect any boundaries?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘And what would a “simple country miss” know about rogues?’

She’d opened her mouth to deny any knowledge…until the memory of Greville Anders pleasuring her in the shadow of the Neville Tour flashed into her head, momentarily stilling her lips.

Lamentably astute, Hillyard noticed her hesitation. ‘Not quite such an innocent, then!’ he declared, grinning. ‘Though if you’re beautiful and naughty, I’m not so sure I shall retire from the lists. Trowbridge doesn’t deserve a truly wicked miss. Too serious by half, you know.’

For a moment she teetered between amusement and anger. Humour winning out, she laughed aloud. ‘Are you always this outrageous, Mr Hillyard?’

‘Generally not with virginal young ladies, who either have no idea what I’m talking about or blush with horror at my candour. I’m delighted that you do neither. Perhaps we would suit.’

‘Indeed! Whatever leads you to that conclusion?’

He shrugged. ‘Something tells me you’re more attracted to a rogue than to an upstanding gentleman like Lucien.’

Maybe not a true rogue…but she’d found one former rogue, now battling his way towards redemption, compelling indeed. She returned from that reflection to find Hillyard staring at her, pure sensual assessment in his gaze.

Feeling her face flame, she protested, ‘Now you are casting aspersions on my character as well! I should probably cut you completely.’

‘Too late for that,’ he said, having the effrontery to chuckle at her outrage. ‘If you keep company with the Trowbridges for long, I’m bound to turn up, like clots in a bowl of cream. Besides, I can offer one thing Trowbridge will surely not, something you may find invaluable.’

‘Indeed? And what might that be?’

‘The truth. About myself and everyone else in society, including my very proper cousin. Besides…’ He hesitated, burning her with another smoky, assessing look, ‘you are not always prudent, are you, Miss Neville?’

Memories of when she had been far from prudent once again invaded her mind. Before she could dispel them and summon some prim rejoinder, he continued, ‘In any event, Lady Parnell will shortly rescue you; I believe she’s about to conclude her chat with the doleful Lord Melcombe. I’ll take myself off before she has a chance to chastise me. Despite your disapproving chaperon, I hope to see much more of you, my divine Miss Neville.’

Before she could tartly reply that she was neither divine nor his, he bowed and walked away.

An inclination towards rogues, indeed! she thought, shaking her head ruefully as she watched him slip from the room. Though she was honest enough to admit, after her initial shock, she’d begun to feel a sense of ease with Hillyard that she still didn’t feel with the much more proper Trowbridge.

At that moment, Lady Parnell turned back to her. ‘My dear, let me present Lord Melcombe, who’s most anxious to make your acquaintance.’

After an exchange of courtesies, Melcombe said, ‘You seemed quite immersed in the conversation at dinner, Miss Neville—a rather singular reaction for a lady of your tender years. Do you truly follow events in Parliament, as Lady Parnell claims?’

‘Yes, my lord. My grandmother was an acquaintance of the Duchess of Devonshire, who inspired in her an abiding interest in political matters that she passed on to my mother and me. I found the discussions fascinating.’

He nodded approvingly. ‘I hope you ladies will each save me a dance.’

‘We would be honoured, my lord,’ Lady Parnell replied for them. After Melcombe bowed and walked away, she snared Amanda by the elbow and walked her into quiet corner.

‘I couldn’t be more pleased,’ she said in an undertone. ‘Jane told me Lord Ravensfell was quite impressed and intended to convey to Lucien his hearty approval of you. And if that were not coup enough, you’ve attracted Lord Melcombe’s interest as well!’

‘Might your fondness for me have you reading too much into this?’ Amanda asked, a little alarmed. She wasn’t sure she wanted the powerful Ravensfells urging on their son’s pursuit. ‘As for Melcombe, we exchanged only a handful of sentences.’

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