Compromising The Duke's Daughter. Mary Brendan

still single at twenty-one, having rejected the only proposal that had ever come her way when she was seventeen. At the time Patricia had been exasperated to lose a future son-in-law with so little consideration given on Louise’s part. Her daughter had said she needed no time to think: the fellow wasn’t right for her. As he had gone on to duel over a Covent Garden nun, then flee abroad to escape arrest, Patricia had to admit that Louise—despite her tender years—had been the wiser of the two of them on that occasion.

      ‘Your friend is taking a special interest in the girl, you say?’ Maude glanced through the open dining-room doors. Lady Regan, an influential, veteran hostess, was settled on a sofa with her entourage around her. She didn’t seem to be putting any effort into welcoming the Denby family herself.

      Maude could pull rank on every female present, should she choose to, but she had not long been elevated through marriage to the peerage. She knew that there were those present who resented her good fortune and thought her an upstart. Her husband’s sister was a prime example, as was Lady Regan.

      ‘Is your friend related to the Denbys in some way?’ Maude was keen to understand why a snob would lend her name to nobodies.

      ‘I believe her ladyship’s husband has asked her to be of assistance in the matter.’ Dorothea raised her sparse eyebrows. ‘Mr Stokes is Lord Regan’s friend, I understand.’ Dorothea hurried on. ‘Vouchers for Almack’s have been procured for Cecilia. The little hussy is luckier than she deserves to be.’

      Having listened with mounting interest to the older ladies’ debate Joan realised she felt rather sorry for Cecilia Denby. She was sure the strangers knew they were being gossiped about. There but for the grace of God went she. She’d acted recklessly when a similar age and Joan knew she’d no excuse, other than a hankering for an adventure, for having done so. Cecilia, on the other hand, could claim love as a purer motive for her outrageous conduct.

      ‘Shall we say hello to them?’ Joan suggested with a bright smile. On impulse she set off towards the Denbys and some hissed words of restraint told her that her stepmother and aunt were not far behind.

      ‘I’ve come to introduce myself,’ Joan blurted, giving a little bob and one of her hands to shake. ‘I’m Lady Joan Morland.’ For an awkward second it seemed her friendly overture might be rebuffed, then the older lady extended her gloved fingers.

      ‘How nice of you to take the trouble to speak to us. We know few people here this evening. I’m Mrs Denby and this is my daughter, Cecilia.’

      ‘Mr Stokes at your service, ladies,’ the gentleman trumpeted with a stiff bow.

      After the other introductions had been politely made the silence lengthened. ‘There is a fine selection of dishes on the dining table,’ Joan rattled off. ‘Would you like to sample a few, Miss Denby?’

      ‘I’ve no appetite.’ Cecilia sighed.

      ‘The lemonade is very refreshing, too.’ Maude attempted to keep the conversation going. ‘I should like another glass.’ Her smile drooped when the gentleman present made no courteous offer to fetch it for her. She had hoped to get rid of Mr Stokes for a short while as he seemed to be a barrier to a more informal chat with the Denby women.

      ‘It is very warm in here...might I walk with you, Lady Joan?’ Cecilia flicked open her fan to cool her pink cheeks. ‘I noticed you and Miss Finch were strolling in the ballroom earlier.’

      Joan crooked an elbow in an affable way. ‘Let’s go and watch the dancing.’ Her sympathy for Cecilia increased as she realised the poor thing was desperate for an excuse to escape her guardian’s eagle eye.