Читать книгу The Christmas Countess - Adrienne Basso - Страница 9

Cameron left White’s in a foul humor. He practically stormed from the club, barely acknowledging the greetings of friends and acquaintances as he stood on the front steps and waited for his horse to be brought around. Once mounted, the earl began the ride home at as fast a pace as he dared, wishing all the while he was at one of his country estates, so he could race home and exercise away some of his edgy frustration.

His marriage had been an arranged affair, a blending of families and wealth, but he had been very lucky. Within a few months of taking his vows, the earl had fallen deeply in love with his charming bride. And she with him. From that point on, their marriage had been passionate and loving and full of happiness. The only blight on their otherwise perfect life was Christina’s inability to bear a child.

Sadly, she had no difficulty becoming pregnant; the problem was that she could not bring the babe to term. On the occasion of her fourth pregnancy, they had journeyed to one of his smaller estates in Devon. The countess’s physician had advised that the country air, quiet daily routine and wholesome environment could prove to be the difference.

Alas, he was wrong. Christina had miscarried the child late in her pregnancy and subsequently sank into a deep depression. Isolated and grieving, the couple had kept the news from their families. Receiving the letter from Mildred Blackwell, a distant relation, requesting that they consider aiding her in finding a home for an illegitimate baby had seemed providential.

The change in Christina had been instantaneous. The sadness lifted and she eagerly embraced the notion of taking the infant girl into their care. Cameron was elated with anything that made his wife happy, and thus they became parents.

Ironically, they had not set out to deliberately deceive anyone that the baby girl was not their natural child. There were few servants at the Devon estate, fewer still who knew the countess had miscarried her child. The initial sad news had not been shared with the family and by the time they brought Lily to London in the spring they no longer thought of how she had become their daughter.

Everyone commented on the baby’s striking resemblance to Christina and it quickly became a notion that neither the earl nor countess saw fit to correct. Even with their closest family members.

Perhaps that might have changed over time, but Christina became ill and the focus shifted away from the joy and excitement of the new baby. The illness lingered, worsened. As Christina’s health steadily declined, it was the presence of Lily that kept them all sane, that brought the only joy and laughter in the household. And when Christina died—Cameron closed his eyes, as if shutting them could miraculously release him from the persistent pain of those three-year-old memories.

If not for Lily, he very well might have gone mad with grief. His little girl was the sole reason he had forced himself to move forward each day. To rise from his bed, to dress, to shave, to make the effort to resume a normal routine.

His love for the child was all encompassing and unconditional. She was his daughter, in all things that mattered, and as he told Tremaine, he would protect her at all costs.

A chilling gust of early December wind hit as Cameron slowed his mount and expertly negotiated the heavily clogged streets. He turned into Grosvenor Square and trotted through the gates of his London residence. Sliding out of the saddle, the earl flipped the reins to a waiting groom.

The front door opened before he reached it.

“Where is Lady Lily?” Cameron asked as he handed over his riding crop, hat, gloves and capped greatcoat to the waiting butler.

The servant opened his mouth to answer, but his reply was drowned out by a squeal of delight echoing from the top step of the winding staircase.

“Papa! You are home at long last!”

The earl smiled at the greeting, silently acknowledging it was a bit dramatic, since he had seen Lily earlier in the morning when they had eaten breakfast together. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the child’s obvious enthusiasm as she bounded down the stairs.

“Lily!” The voice of his sister, Charlotte, standing on the upper landing, invaded the space. “Be careful. The staircase can be slippery.”

Ignoring her aunt’s reprimand, Lily jumped from the final step to the patterned marble floor of the foyer. Recovering her balance, the little girl straightened, curtsied to him, then skipped over for a kiss.

“Oh, Papa, your beard is scratchy,” she complained, but she snuggled closer for a second kiss.

Cameron tightened his hug. “Hey, Puss. How was your day?”

She pulled back and gave him a puzzled frown. “You sound funny, Papa. Is your throat feeling sore?”

Cameron swallowed and shook his head. His voice had become hoarse with emotion as he held her tight. The overwhelming impulse to bar the front doors and have his pistols brought at once nearly destroyed his common sense, so great was the need he felt to protect her.

“It must be the cold that makes me sound so odd,” he replied lightly. “The wind is blowing fiercely.”

She accepted his explanation trustingly, her blond curls bobbing. “You must wear a scarf around your neck when it is so cold. That’s what Aunt Charlotte tells me.”

“Aunt Charlotte is wise in such important matters.”

His eyes traveled to the staircase where his sister Charlotte was slowly descending, limping awkwardly down each step. She had been born with a malformed hip socket making one leg slightly shorter than the other and her gait always seemed more pronounced on cold or damp days.

“Mrs. James is suffering from a migraine,” Charlotte informed him when she finally arrived at the bottom of the staircase. “I volunteered to look after Lily this afternoon.”

“We had a tea party in the nursery, with lemonade and my favorite cream cakes,” Lily announced. “But it was dull without any male companions.”

“Male companions?” the earl repeated, with a raised brow. “Where on earth did you hear such a term?”

“From my best friend, Jane Grolier. She is nearly eight years old and knows so many important things. Her governess is Mrs. James’s sister. We play in the park together.”

“She is the daughter of Viscount Harding,” Charlotte supplied.

“She sounds like a very bold little girl.”

“Oh, she is bold!” Lily replied happily. “Jane has three sisters and two brothers. I want you to meet her. She told me if she is presented to an earl her eldest sister must come along. And once her sister sees you then she will want to marry you. Did you know you are a brilliant catch, Papa? That’s what Jane says.”

Good God. Cameron sent an annoyed glance at his sister. Charlotte shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “Jane is the youngest of the children,” Charlotte said, as if that explained everything.

“I am not certain that she is fit company for Lily,” the earl whispered back.

“Jane is a tad precocious, but still a polite and well-mannered child. We shall be leaving for Windmere manor next week to begin our Christmas holiday celebrations, so the girls will be apart for at least a month or more. I suppose we can put a stop to the meetings before that, if you wish,” Charlotte said skeptically. “But I do believe it will greatly upset Lily.”

The earl glanced down at his daughter. She was out of earshot, playing a game in the foyer, hopping on her left foot from one black marble square to the next. “We might as well wait. Though I expect you to keep a close eye on this budding friendship for me, Charlotte.”

“Of course, Cameron. You know I want only the best for Lily.”

“I know.” The earl leaned forward and gave his sister a gentle kiss on the forehead. He had overreacted, thanks to his unsettling meeting at White’s and it was hardly fair to take out his bad humor on Charlotte.

His sister was a timid woman, protected and cosseted since birth. Her bodily imperfection had curtailed not only her physical activity, but her social interaction and she usually had difficulty speaking her mind. Even with him.

“Do you have to work now, Papa?”

“For a few hours, but I shall join you for dinner.”

“Will you dress?”

“If you’d like.” The earl grinned. Lily had recently become very interested in fashion and adored the idea of dressing formally for dinner.

“Oh, yes, please. I have a brand-new yellow gown with three ruffles of lace on the bottom that I shall wear.”

“I am sure you will look very fetching.”

“I do hope so.” Her mind preoccupied with her dinner outfit, Lily skipped from the room.

The earl expected his sister would follow her, but as she turned to leave he caught a slight frown on Charlotte’s face.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Charlotte hesitated. “Well, ’tis a bit indulgent for a child of Lily’s age to dress for dinner.”

“Harmless fun,” he countered. “Besides, it makes her happy.”

“Perhaps.” Charlotte lowered her gaze, which annoyed him, because with her expressive eyes hidden, Cameron had no way of telling what she was really thinking.

“Hurry, Aunt Charlotte. I need you.”

Lily’s voice, filled with childish excitement, carried down from above stairs. Cameron watched his sister open her mouth, then suddenly shut it.

“I suppose it would not be an effective lesson to lecture Lily about the inappropriate and unladylike behavior of shouting by yelling back at her to stop screaming,” Charlotte remarked with a self-deprecating grin. “I believe I shall simply tell her that is something Jane Grolier would never do.”

“Brilliant.”

Charlotte looked over her shoulder at him and grinned, then slowly, carefully climbed the stairs. When she disappeared from view, the earl stepped across the hallway to his private study, pleased to find his secretary, Robert Baines, still hard at work. The older man put down his pen and started to stand when the earl entered the room, but Cameron waved him back into his seat.

“I have reviewed the reports and the earning statements for the textile mill in Lancashire, my lord,” the secretary said. “My notes are in the margin, if you wish to read and discuss it now.”

“It can wait.”

Feeling too agitated to sit, Cameron paced behind his desk. “I have a far more urgent and delicate matter I wish you to attend to at once.”

Baines lifted his pen and shifted the clutter on his desk, searching for a fresh sheet of paper.

“I need background information on two people, a brother and sister. Daniel Tremaine and Rebecca Tremaine, respectively.”

The secretary peered down at the parchment and carefully wrote a few notations. “Do you wish me to hire a Bow Street man?”

“No,” Cameron said quietly, torn between his need to find the information quickly and the equally important need to keep this matter very quiet. At this point there were only three living people who knew the truth about Lily—himself, Daniel and Rebecca.

The last thing he wanted was a Bow Street man sniffing around this situation. Secrets were far easier to keep with fewer individuals knowing them. “I want you to handle this personally, Baines.”

“What precisely do you wish to know about this pair?” the secretary asked.

“Tremaine is a businessman—a successful one, from what I gather. I want to know where his fortune came from, where and how he made it, and what precisely he has been doing for the past six years.” Cameron leaned against the edge of his desk. “As for the sister, I want as many details as you can find about her family history, where she grew up, where she lives currently, who she has associated with, that sort of thing. Also, if there are any scandals about either of them, widely known or otherwise.”

The secretary jotted down a few more notes, then glanced up. “If I may ask, are you considering hiring Miss Tremaine for a household position?”

“Not exactly.” Cameron furrowed his brow. “I need the information as soon as possible, but discretion is key in this matter, Baines. I do not want you to arouse any suspicions when making these inquiries and above all, I want no one to know of my interest. Do you understand?”

“You may count on me, my lord.” The secretary gathered up his papers and turned for the door. “If you will excuse me, I will start working immediately on this matter.”

Cameron nodded. Baines had been in his employ for nearly ten years and had always done his job with professional discretion. His loyal service was yet another indicator that hiring skilled, competent people and paying them a generous salary was the best way to conduct business. Short of doing it himself, Cameron knew Baines was the right person to handle this most delicate matter.

Once alone, the earl tried to settle down and read the mill report that Baines had left, but it was a useless endeavor. His eyes saw and read the words, but his brain did not comprehend the sentences.

Instead, he replayed his meeting with Tremaine over and over in his mind, trying to decide the best way to move forward. For a few moments, Cameron toyed with the idea of buying the pair off, but if Tremaine were as successful as the earl suspected, money would hold no appeal.

Disgusted, he resumed pacing, then realized he was clenching his hands so hard that his fingers were growing numb. This was ridiculous. He needed a plan. The information Baines would uncover would be useful, but the earl knew from the conversation at the club today that no matter what was discovered, the Tremaines would not easily go away.

He had agreed to give them an answer by Friday, but Cameron was hardly ready to allow this woman to meet Lily. No, she must first meet him and somehow convince him to allow a brief introduction to his daughter. His daughter. Perhaps it was possible to intimidate Miss Tremaine sufficiently so she would drop the notion of meeting the little girl altogether? Or maybe he could find another means to dissuade her interest?

A smile lit his face as an idea formed in his mind. There were few society events of note at this time of year, since many of the members of the haut ton had left London for their country estates. Those who stayed behind would be planning Christmas celebrations, but any holiday events would not take place for several weeks.

Yet he was sure with careful planning he could scare up a sizeable crowd for a society dinner party. His mother would enjoy the opportunity to entertain. Perhaps even Charlotte might be persuaded to join them.

But more importantly, a social evening would mask the true intent of meeting Miss Rebecca Tremaine and, if he were very lucky, intimidate her with his wealth, power and position at the same time. Scaring her off would quickly end this problem to his satisfaction. Feeling far more in control now that he had a reasonable course of action to follow, Cameron stormed from the room to search for his mother, eager to set his plan into motion.

Her new satin evening slippers were silent on the stone steps as Rebecca climbed to the front door of the Earl of Hampton’s town home. With each step she took, she clung tightly to her brother’s arm, her fingers flexing with nerves. Daniel lifted the brass knocker, but before he could bang it, the door swung open.

“Sir, Madame.”

“Good evening. Mr. Daniel Tremaine and his sister, Miss Rebecca Tremaine. We are expected.”

The expressionless butler bowed, then stood aside to allow them entrance to the vast foyer. Servants rushed forward to take their outer garments; a footman wearing a powdered white wig, dressed in black and gold livery, stood at the ready, waiting to escort them upstairs.

“I thought you said this was to be a casual dinner party,” Rebecca whispered to her brother.

“That was how the invitation was worded.” Daniel snorted. “I suspect part of this might be meant to impress or more likely intimidate us. Then again, the nobility never need much of an excuse to showcase their wealth and waste their money.”

“Daniel, please.”

Rebecca placed her hand on her brother’s forearm. She knew well her brother’s opinion of the majority of men in society. Vain, foolish wastrels who neither understood nor appreciated the value of honest work, who lived purely for their own pleasures. A blight on the British landscape of industrial success, he often remarked, and a disgrace to the ingenuity and hard work of so many others around the world.

“Sorry.” Daniel lowered his head contritely. “I shall try to be on my best behavior this evening.”

“You will succeed at being utterly charming, well bred and congenial to one and all,” she admonished, feeling a small measure of relief when Daniel nodded in agreement.

Taking her brother’s arm, they followed the liveried servant. As they ascended the winding staircase to the second story, Rebecca’s eyes darted anxiously to the third floor, her head turning quickly in all directions.

“I doubt you will catch a glimpse of the little girl tonight, Becca. Try to relax.”

Rebecca let out a frustrated sigh. Of course her brother was right. The girl, who had been named Lily, would be safely ensconced in the nursery at this time of night, most likely already asleep.

Rebecca let out a deep sigh, hoping to steady her nerves. It had been an agonizing few weeks since discovering the truth about her baby girl and her need to see the child had grown with each passing day. Daniel continued urging her to have patience, but it was becoming harder and harder.

As soon as Daniel was able to ascertain that the Earl of Hampton was in residence at his London home, they had journeyed to the city. Foolishly, Rebecca thought she would be able to see Lily the moment they arrived. Fortunately, Daniel had anticipated that it would hardly be easy to make contact with the child and had formulated a more realistic approach to the problem.

Knowing they would be staying in the city for several weeks, he had leased a lovely mansion in the fashionable Mayfair district. It was far more pleasant than residing at a hotel, but the beautiful surroundings and interesting sights of the neighborhood had been lost on Rebecca. All she cared about was her daughter, all she thought about was finally meeting, and holding, the little girl.

Rebecca had been exceedingly distressed when Daniel recounted the details of his initial meeting with the earl, but hope had blossomed when a few days later the invitation to dinner had arrived. She felt certain if she made a favorable impression the earl’s objections would evaporate. Then she would at long last achieve her greatest desire and set eyes on her child for the first time.

They entered the drawing room and Rebecca was very glad of the support of her brother’s strong arm. The room was filled with a glittering array of people, all beautifully and expensively dressed. They were gathered in small groups, drinks in hand. Conversation was animated, laughter frequent.

For one dizzying moment Rebecca felt as if she had just set foot on the moon. Nothing in her simple life had prepared her for this sort of event. Social gatherings where she had been raised in Taunton were far more simple, casual and understated. In that instant, her lack of society experience and sophistication hit her hard. How would she ever handle this evening without making a fool of herself?

“They are just people, Rebecca. No better than we,” Daniel muttered calmly, as if sensing her sudden insecurity.

For all his vocal disdain of this glittering world, her brother seemed remarkably calm and secure when set among it. Taking her cue from him, Rebecca attempted to place the perfect expression of nonchalant friendliness upon her face.

“Mr. Tremaine. Good evening.”

“Lord Hampton.”

Rebecca battled a surge of panic and lowered her gaze. She had been so preoccupied with bolstering her courage that she had missed the approach of the earl.

“This must be your sister.”

Rebecca lifted her eyes and the pleasant, generic greeting faltered on her lips when she looked at the earl.

Openly looked at him. As if she were struck mute, as if she had never before met a gentleman until that moment.

His eyes held her. Dark brows arched over hazel eyes, accentuated by thick dark lashes. His nose was straight, the nostrils slightly flared above a most sensuous mouth. His firm jaw and strong cheekbones completed the picture of pure masculine beauty.

His long, leanly muscled body was clad in formal black evening clothes, stark white shirt, intricately tied cravat and a black, silk waistcoat.

A tremor ran down her spine. Though she had vowed she would not be, Rebecca felt intimidated by him. She had met only minor nobility before, but there was an aura about the earl that proclaimed him stronger, more powerful, more dangerous than other men, those who held titles and those who did not. He carried himself with masculine arrogance and nearly unnerving personal command.

She knew she must cease staring at him. It was abominably rude, bordering on crass. But then, he was staring at her. After all, turnabout was fair play.

“May I present my sister, Miss Rebecca Tremaine.”

“I am pleased to welcome you into my home, Miss Tremaine.”

His low voice sent a peculiar wash of heat through her veins, making it difficult to execute a smooth curtsy. “Thank you, my lord. I am delighted to be here.”

An older woman, wearing an enormous diamond choker, bustled between them, giving them a friendly, appraising glance.

“My mother, the dowager countess,” the earl said. “This is Mr. Daniel Tremaine and his sister, Miss Rebecca.”

“A pleasure to meet you both.” The older woman smiled pleasantly and Rebecca was impressed by the tone of sincerity in her voice, especially given the thick, ripe tension that filled the air.

She wondered if the dowager countess knew the truth about her connection to Lily and decided it was unlikely. Her manner was too open, too friendly. A marked contrast to her son, who seemed to pause and measure each word before it was uttered.

Further introductions were made to those guests closest around them. Rebecca was grateful that Daniel received the majority of attention and interest. Several of the men were familiar with his business achievements and many of the women were impressed by his handsome countenance.

They next moved slowly about the room, so they could be introduced to the rest of the crowd. Rebecca could not help but note how most of the guests seemed anxious to have a moment to engage the earl in private conversation. A select few were overt with their fawning efforts to garner his attention, most notably the younger women. Or their mothers.

’Twas either his ignorance or arrogance that made the earl seem oblivious to that fact, though secretly Rebecca suspected it was his arrogance.

There were so many people to meet it was difficult for Rebecca to remember which names went with which faces, but one woman dressed in a striking gown of blue watered silk with a round neckline that emphasized her graceful neck made a lasting impression. She was introduced as Lady Marion Rowley, Viscountess Cranborne.

“Hampton is my first cousin,” the pretty young viscountess confided to Rebecca as they stood alone together. “Our mothers were sisters. Yet I fear he claims the relationship only when hard-pressed. I have a terrible habit of allowing impulse to rule my behavior. Truth be told, I’m a bit of a family scandal.”

“The earl strikes me as a man filled with pride,” Rebecca mused, feeling sympathy for anyone who dared to annoy him.

“My yes, it is excessive. Have you known Hampton long?”

“Goodness, no. I just met him this evening.”

“Impressive, Miss Tremaine. You show great insight into a man’s character on such short acquaintance.” Lady Marion signalled a passing footman and procured two glasses of chilled champagne, one for each of them. “Fortunately for all of us, Hampton is also blessed with a streak of unequivocal integrity. It does help temper that arrogant pride of his. Most will freely acknowledge that he is not only strong and capable, but honest and forthright as well. Though I tease him mercilessly for his devotion to protecting the family name and honor, his support and loyalty have kept me alive socially on more than one occasion.”

“You are fond of him?” Rebecca asked with surprise.

“Exceedingly.” She took a long sip of her champagne. “Though I will be the first to confess his arrogant attitude can be maddening at times.”

“He seems to possess that in abundance.”

Lady Marion laughed. “Oh, I do like you, Miss Tremaine.”

The object of their conversation stood on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by a group of simpering women. Rebecca hazarded a look in his direction, one he returned for half a heartbeat before deliberately looking away. Her cheeks heated slightly.

“If I may be so bold as to offer a touch of experienced advice, do not waste your time and effort setting your cap for Hampton,” Lady Marion said. “He was devoted beyond measure to his late wife, Christina. Those of us who know him well doubt he will ever re-marry, even for the sake of his title.”

Rebecca felt her face flush even more. “I assure you, Lady Marion, I have no romantic interest in the earl whatsoever.”

“Oh, dear, now I have offended you.” Lady Marion frowned. “I spent far too many years searching for the right man to marry that I easily forget all women do not have a burning desire to land a wealthy, well-connected husband. Forgive me.”

“Of course.” Rebecca took a small sip of her champagne, deciding she was secretly flattered that the viscountess thought she would be able to bring any of these men up to scratch. For so long, Rebecca had thought of herself as a spinster, firmly set on the shelf.

“’Tis a burden of womanhood, I fear, to devote so much of our time and energy to securing our futures through marriage,” Lady Marion continued. “Why I know of at least four women who are currently wrestling between the choice of family duty and personal happiness. And one, poor dear, who is in the worst predicament of all—the need to marry a fortune.” She leaned close and whispered merrily, “Amazingly, I was the most clever of all. I fell in love with Viscount Cranborne, who was richer than Croesus, and was thus able to marry for love and money.”

Lady Marion seemed so genuinely pleased with herself that Rebecca found herself smiling back at her. The two women chatted a few minutes longer before Lady Marion excused herself to greet some of her husband’s relatives.

When she left, Rebecca realized under different circumstances she might have enjoyed this opportunity to meet new people, to have a glimpse into this fascinating world of wealth and privilege.

But the lively conversation she had just shared barely distracted her thoughts. Lily was here, beneath this very roof. Safely tucked away in her bed? Or perhaps she was hearing a story or saying her prayers. Rebecca closed her eyes and said a quick prayer of her own, knowing she needed all the help she could muster to survive this evening.

When she opened them, she felt a shiver rush through her, the overwhelming sense that she was under observation. A quick glance confirmed her suspicions. The earl’s dark head was tilted and his eyes fixed intently on her, making her feel decidedly uncomfortable.

He started toward her and the urge to flee grew strong. But Rebecca remained in place, trying to stem the nervous quivering of her stomach.

“Afraid I am going to pinch the silver, my lord?” she asked as he drew near, firing off the first shot.

“You can have the silver, Miss Tremaine. And the crystal, if you so desire. There are other, far more valuable items in my care to protect.”

His brows rose over his intriguing hazel eyes. They were really more green, she decided; green flecked with gold and brown. Beautiful eyes to be sure and decidedly unfriendly and challenging.

He slanted her a hard look, which she met directly. Damn, there it was again—a ridiculous flash of heat that sparkled between them. No man, not even Philip, had ever made her body stir with more awareness.

The dowager countess and a few other ladies joined them, breaking some of the tension. Ignoring her attraction to the earl was difficult, yet not impossible. Ignoring her feelings about Lily, however, was quickly becoming an impossibility.

Her daughter was here, somewhere inside this very house. So close, and yet so far away. The need to search for her was almost a physical compulsion. Rebecca slowly exhaled, worrying that her heart was unable to take the building stress, that her emotions would somehow unleash and burst forth and she would do something utterly disgraceful.

Rebecca cleared her throat and spoke loudly enough to be heard over the chattering conversation of the other women. “I understand you have a granddaughter, my lady.”

“Oh, my, yes. Lily is the light of our lives.” The dowager countess smiled fondly. “She is upstairs in the nursery of course, though I don’t believe she has yet been put to bed.”

“I bet she is a lovely child.”

“Delightful, but what else would a doting grandmother say?” A glint of love and joy lit the older woman’s eyes. “In fact, I might be able to persuade my son to allow her to come down and say hello to the guests. She does so enjoy seeing the ladies and gentlemen in their evening finery.”

Rebecca’s thoughts froze in place at this unexpected opportunity. It was almost too perfect to imagine and confirmed that the dowager countess was unaware of Lily’s true parentage. “Is she not shy of strangers?”

“Heavens no.” The dowager countess laughed. “Even when she was very young we noticed when other children slipped behind their mother or nurses’ skirts, Lily always boldly put herself forward.”

“How charming. I for one would very much enjoy meeting her.”

“Not this evening.” The earl covered his mother’s hand with his own, his smile pleasant, even as eyes bore darkly into Rebecca’s. Drat! She did not realize he had been listening so intently to their conversation.

“Are you certain, Cameron?” the dowager countess asked.

“Yes. Her nurse said Lily had a touch of the sniffles this afternoon. I think it best for everyone if she stays in her room.”

“Another time perhaps,” Rebecca said, her heart clouding with disappointment.

The earl’s displeasure was almost a physical entity. She could sense the level of mistrust he felt for her rise higher. But she had not been able to stop herself; the chance to finally see her daughter had been too tempting to resist.

“Tread carefully, Miss Tremaine,” he whispered in her ear.

Startled, she nearly dropped her empty glass. Mustering her courage, she lifted her chin and stared at him. He gave her a disarming smile, that she quickly realized was for the benefit of any who might be watching. Then he inclined his head and left to play the amiable host to the rest of his guests.

Rebecca sagged a little as he strode away, slowly letting out a long breath. That was a close call, far too close for comfort. Yet in her heart she knew she would do it again.

She drew her hand across her brow, then realized she had been twisting the tiny pearl button on her glove so hard it had come loose. Seized with a sudden idea, Rebecca yanked the thread until it broke, then eagerly went in search of Lady Marion.

“I seem to have met with a slight mishap.” Rebecca held out her hand, showing the viscountess where the small pearl button was missing from the top of her glove. “Miraculously, I have located the button. Is there somewhere I can repair the damage before dinner is served?”

“Yes. There is a smaller parlor three doors to your left. I will instruct one of the footmen to have a maid sent in with a sewing kit.”

“Thank you.”

Heart thudding with excitement, along with a touch of guilt, Rebecca quietly left the room.