Page 53 of To Dance with a Devil

“But you have gone to the devil, love,” Jerome whispered, waggling his eyebrows at her. “You just haven’t realised it yet.”

The two of them laughed and wandered off to talk to some of their other guests and Matilda watched them go, smiling, for their happiness was so very infectious.

“They’ll do very nicely, I think.”

Matilda looked around to see Lady St Clair had returned and was also watching them with approval.

“Yes, I agree,” Matilda said, allowing Lady St Clair to guide her to a seat by the window. “You must be very proud, not to mention relieved, to see both your sons so happily settled.”

“I am,” Lady St Clair replied, looking rather smug. “I’ll admit, Bonnie would not have been my first choice, but I think now that perhaps that was rather short-sighted of me. Jerome would have been wretched if he had no one to laugh with, and there’s not been enough laughter since their darling papa died.” She gave a wistful sigh and Matilda reached out and took her hand. “Such a man he was,” the countess said, her eyes growing misty. “Everyone told me not to marry him. Such a shocking reputation he had. But I never regretted it, not for a moment.”

There was a heavy silence before the countess shook off the past and turned back to Matilda with a laugh.

“And, did you know, Morven doubled Bonnie’s dowry? When he discovered she’d married the Earl of St Clair’s brother, he was heard to remark he’d not be disparaged for being a blasted nip cheese by an English earl, and that was that. Isn’t that precious?”

Matilda gave a snort of laughter. “Oh, how like Bonnie to land on her feet, and how richly she deserves it. I am glad for her.”

“And what of you, Tilda, dear?”

“Me?” Matilda echoed, alarmed by the sudden gleam in the woman’s eyes. It occurred to her then that, now her sons were happily married off, the countess might decide to turn her attention to other interests… like finding Matilda a husband. “What of me?”

“Well, I know you have Mr Burton dancing attendance on you, not to mention Montagu trailing in your wake. I heard he was very attentive at Mrs Manning’s rout party.”

To her horror, Matilda blushed scarlet and quickly changed the subject.

“Sadly, I’ve not seen Mr Burton since I came back to town. He was supposed to have returned at the beginning of the month but was delayed. He’s called twice more but we’ve missed each other on both occasions.” Thank heavens, Matilda silently added, thanking providence for keeping them apart for she was no nearer reaching a decision on what she ought to do about the man.

“Hmmm,” Lady St Clair replied, her blue eyes a deal too keen for Matilda’s comfort. “Well, just so you are not caught unawares, I shall have to invite Montagu to the ball. Perhaps I shall invite Mr Burton too,” she added, studying Matilda, who endeavoured to keep the dismay from her expression at that idea.

“You must invite who you wish,” Matilda said, aware she sounded somewhat brittle.

“Oh, come, come,” the countess said, chuckling. “Don’t be like that. I shall invite all the eligible young men I can think of who might make a good husband for you.”

Matilda snorted. “The ones with pockets to let, you mean,” she said, not without bitterness. “For I cannot think who else you would invite who would fit the bill.”

Lady St Clair shrugged. “Whether or not you marry one of them, it will amuse me to see Montagu watch you dance with a dozen potential suitors while he simmers in a corner.”

“Oh, please.” Matilda made an incredulous sound and wondered if happiness had addled the woman’s wits. “Montagu does not simmer. There’s ice in his veins and in his heart and, if his temperature ever rises above tepid, I’ve yet to notice it.”

“Then,” the countess said with a small smile, “you’ve not been paying close enough attention.”

Chapter 18

Dear Papa,

Dear Matilda

Dear

Whatever am I to say to them? What manner of madness has possessed me? I feel I am two entirely different people contained in the same body.

I think I may run mad…

― Excerpt of a letter from Mrs Ruth Anderson, never completed.

5th December 1814. Mr and Mrs Cadogan’s celebration ball, The Earl of St Clair’s London Residence, St James.

“How splendid it is.”