Marquesses at the Masquerade(58)

“I’ll put down ten pounds that she’ll be engaged in six days,” the dandy said in an affected bored drawl. “She has tolerable looks and possesses a very tolerable dowry.”

A gentleman with reddish-gold hair and dry skin spotted with pale freckles wrote down the wager. Their friend, a slight man with dollop-like blond curls that fell over his eyes, put forth another name. “Miss Poplin. Let us discuss, gentlemen.”

Exmore returned to his cards. He accepted another from the dealer. A seven. He had overplayed. He laid down his cards, took another sip of brandy, and waited for the next hand to be dealt because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. Going to the theater or another party seemed like too much effort.

The name Miss Van Der Keer seemed to pop from the conversation behind him.

He spun around.

“You are cracked, Ronald,” the curly blond said. “Don’t you know who she is? Let me enlighten you.” The man launched into tales of Annalise’s previous Season, either embellished or plainly false. Exmore’s fingers balled into a fist.

“No one will ask for her hand,” the curly-haired man concluded. “I’m betting ten pounds Miss Van Der Keer won’t be accepted in any homes by next week, let alone receive a proposal. Write it down, Simon. Write, man. Seven days to social disgrace.” Delighted maliciousness filled his laugh.

The dandy waved his hand dismissively. “That’s too easy, my boy. She’s already been cut by the Danverses tonight.”

“What?” Exmore exclaimed.

The men’s faces brightened from Exmore’s attention.

“Good evening, Lord Exmore!” said the freckled man recording the wagers. “We were placing bets on the fates of this year’s crop of ladies. Care to wager?”

Exmore bit back the retort to put him down for one hundred pounds that his fist would bloody their faces within the next five minutes. “What did you say about Miss Van Der Keer?”

“She’s been cut by the Danverses.” The dandy’s mouth was twisted in the smug smirk of a man who knew a piece of news before anyone else. “I was there myself not fifteen minutes ago. The old girl was in tears because no gentleman of any consequence had asked her to dance. I recall you weren’t very fond of her. Warned your cousin off that wild hoyden. Care to wager?”

“Go to hell.” Exmore headed for the door.





Chapter Six





* * *



“I’m terribly sorry your niece is suffering such a headache and must go home,” Mr. Danvers told Aunt Sally. The Danverses had herded Aunt Sally, Phoebe, and Annalise into a corner. The host wore a stiff smile, trying to disguise the unpleasant conversation. Annalise didn’t have a headache. It was merely a flimsy excuse cooked up by the host to politely expel her.

All of Mr. Danvers’s delicate diplomatic work was undone by his wife, who wept into her lacy handkerchief. “But I planned this ball for months, my love,” she wailed. “All the food, flowers, musicians. She’s ruined it.”

Mr. Danvers rested his hand on his wife’s arm. “Dearest, please, contain yourself. Others are watching.”

Annalise felt the prickling heat of the guests’ curious glances like hot ants crawling along her skin. She wanted to shout at them, You mean nothing to me. In a few weeks’ time, she hoped to board a ship to Holland and put miles of cold, turbulent ocean between herself and this snobbish city. Its shine had been tarnished. But she had to maintain her civility for Phoebe’s and her aunt’s sake. They had to continue to swim in these infested waters.

“Come away, Aunt Sally.” Annalise beckoned her aunt quietly, hoping to escape without creating an even bigger scene.

“Mr. Danvers, she is like my own daughter,” Mrs. Sommerville implored. “Let her stay.” Aunt Sally’s pleading tones were edged with hysteria.

“I understand that this is a delicate matter,” Mr. Danvers said. “I assure you I’m only thinking of Miss Van Der Keer’s well-being.”

Annalise stifled a bark of bitter laughter.

“This is cruel,” Phoebe cried. “I shall tell Papa.”

Annalise couldn’t see how that would improve matters by any measure.

“Phoebe, you can remain and enjoy yourself,” Annalise said, trying to remain calm. “My feelings shan’t be hurt. I assure you that a quiet evening of reading in my chamber would do wonders for my, um, headache.”

“I shall speak to Mr. Sommerville tomorrow,” Mr. Danvers said. “Of course, this little incident will not lessen my esteem for the gentleman. These things do happen from time to time.”

Annalise bit back the desire to say, Oh yes, it’s always unfortunate when you must humiliate someone because you have no backbone and always bow to Society’s whim. Well, I would rather have the approval of innocent daises in the fields than yours. No wonder her father had preferred animals and plants to people. Of course, he had always been far wiser than she.

“Let my niece stay,” Aunt Sally pleaded. “My husband will be so vexed. He has such a temper.” Aunt Sally pressed her hands together as if praying. “Doesn’t Annalise look lovely? I know her gown is a few years old, but she has done her hair differently for your ball. You can’t turn away someone so lovely.”