‘Whatever can you mean?’ Mrs Hunter said, a sharp note in her voice. ‘He is everything a girl like Sarah could wish for, I am sure.’
‘But what do you know of him—except that he is a duke and wealthy?’
‘He is received and respected universally,’ Lady Tate said. ‘There is no doubt of it, Tilda. He would be an excellent match for Sarah.’
‘Perhaps.’ Tilda was unconvinced, but did not continue her protest. She might have more to say at an appropriate time. The duke must be at least twenty years older than Sarah, and she was sure in her own mind that the girl was in love with John Elworthy. She for one would not like to see Sarah forced into marriage just because the man was rich and well born.
Sarah had not given the possibility a thought. She was enjoying herself far more than she had thought she would, meeting lots of new friends and receiving many compliments on her gown, her appearance and her manners. In fact, it could be said that the only other girl in the room to receive as much attention was Julia, whose dance it was.
They had by now become firm friends and had promised to meet to go walking or shopping together as often as it could be managed, though with the Season beginning to get truly under way both had invitations for all manner of affairs. Picnics, dinners, musical evenings, card parties and dancing were just a few of the ingenious ideas the influential hostesses had come up with—to say nothing of the outdoor events, carriage drives and outings to the race meetings that the gentlemen enjoyed so much.
At the end of that dance, it was time for supper and as she left the floor she was approached by several eager gentlemen. However, they parted as a deep voice claimed her, allowing the duke through to offer her his arm.
‘Miss Hunter. I believe we are promised for supper?’
‘Yes, thank you, sir.’
Sarah laid her hand on his arm, allowing him to lead her through to the supper room, where she discovered that a table awaited them. It was already laden with several platters of the choicest delicacies and two servants hovered, waiting to serve them. Sarah knew that most of the ladies and gentlemen had gone to the buffet to serve themselves, but she was being treated as though she were someone special. It was because she was partnered by the duke, of course.
‘Is everything to your liking?’ he asked. ‘Please say if there is something you would prefer. I am certain it can be brought.’
‘I think I should be hard to please if I could not be pleased with this, sir,’ Sarah said and looked at the servant hovering. ‘I should like a little salmon and some green peas, if you please.’
‘Will you have some wine? Or would you prefer champagne?’
Sarah smiled at the duke. ‘I think champagne, if it is no trouble.’
‘Of course,’ he said and nodded to the other waiter, who went off at once to procure it for her. ‘I understand you have been travelling in Italy until recently, Miss Hunter?’
‘We returned home a few weeks ago,’ Sarah said. ‘We stayed there for more than two years.’
‘You like living abroad?’
‘I made many friends,’ Sarah said. ‘But I am quite happy to be home again.’
‘I understand that you went away for your health?’
Sarah felt her cheeks become slightly warm. ‘I was very ill at one time, sir. Mama thought it best to take me away.’ She touched the wing of white at her right temple self-consciously. It was a constant reminder of a time that she had tried hard to forget.
‘I trust you are better now?’
‘Yes, thank you. I am quite well.’
‘I thought so,’ he said. ‘I think you will be a success this season, Miss Hunter. I may even say that you will be the latest rage. You have something about you that is uncommon.’
‘You are very kind to say so, sir.’
‘I never say what I do not mean.’
Sarah looked into his eyes and felt a tingle at the base of her neck. He seemed a very pleasant, charming man, but there was something about him that made her uneasy.
‘Then I shall thank you for the compliment, sir.’
The duke continued to make small talk throughout supper. However, as the guests began to make their way back to the ballroom, he took his leave of Sarah and Mrs Hunter, who had come to join them.
‘I am pleased to have made your acquaintance, ma’am—and yours, Miss Hunter. I shall hope that we meet again soon.’
‘We have just been given vouchers for Almack’s next week,’ Mrs Hunter said, looking rather like the cat that has stolen the cream. ‘I believe you attend sometimes, sir?’
‘Yes, I do,’ he said and inclined his head. ‘But I dare say we shall meet everywhere, Mrs Hunter.’
She watched as he walked away from them, her eyes glowing as she looked back at Sarah. ‘That means we shall be invited everywhere. Mark my words, Sarah, the invitations will pour in now.’
Mrs Hunter was proved right; if they had received a nice flow of invitations before, they were inundated with them now. When there was more than one affair on a certain night, it was only possible to attend them all by leaving one event after an hour or so to move on to the next. It became a mad social whirl and Sarah’s feet seemed to hardly touch the floor as she went from one large, prestigious affair to another. If it was not a private ball or soirée, it was a card party, masked rout or a visit to Vauxhall with a party of friends. Sarah found it exciting but also tiring, and sometimes wished for more leisure to spend with her true friends.
Mrs Hunter, however, had not stopped wearing a smile since they had been invited to a dinner and cards at Lady Mountbank’s house, for she was one of the leading hostesses of the Season, and a lady known to ignore those who did not come out of the top drawer. While the Hunters were a good county family and well respected, they were not titled and had not expected to be invited into the homes of the most influential hostesses. Mrs Hunter had hoped that the invitations to the large balls might come their way, but now they were being asked to the more intimate affairs that she had not dreamed of. It was, of course, the Duke of Pentyre’s influence, something she never failed to impress on her daughter.
‘He is taken with you, Sarah,’ she told her daughter on the morning of his own ball. ‘I dare say he is not yet ready to speak, but if you are sensible he will do so by the end of the Season.’
‘You cannot be sure of that,’ Sarah said, avoiding her mother’s gaze. She was already aware that the duke had shown her considerable favour and that because of it several rather haughty hostesses had gone out of their way to be more than kind to her. She was, as he had predicted, becoming all the rage, and could not enter a drawing room without being immediately surrounded by both ladies and gentlemen. ‘We should not take his intentions for granted, Mama. After all, he might have married before this had he wished.’
‘Gentlemen often prefer to wait to take a wife,’ her mother told her. ‘I think he has it in mind to set up his family, Sarah. No doubt he feels it is time to make sure of his heir.’
Sarah did not argue further. She had hoped that this would not happen, that she would be given time to discover if there was a gentleman she particularly liked among her new acquaintances. However, it seemed that Mrs Hunter had recovered from her disappointment that Sarah had not taken the Conte and was now set on her becoming a duchess.
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