to explain if you will listen,” said her mother in a peevish tone. “Belinda has received an offer of marriage from Lord Sneyd! He asked my permission to address her, which naturally I agreed to. He has just left.”
“And how did you reply, Belinda?”
Her step-sister glanced up. “Just as Mama and I discussed. I have neither rejected nor accepted him – I intend to make him wait until Devlyn makes me an offer.”
Lucy drew in a breath. “Don’t trifle with Lord Sneyd! Judging by his expression, he will not be willing to wait long.”
Belinda rolled her eyes heavenward. “You are so stupid, Lucy. I know how to hold a man’s interest. If he is jealous of Devlyn and others, so much the better.”
“There can be no harm in delaying,” said Lady Sinclair. “Lord Devlyn will propose soon and if your sister has several offers to choose from, it is no more than she deserves. Now Belinda, let us decide whether you are to wear your pearls or your diamonds this evening….”
Lucy returned to her room. Her news about the trip to Richmond would wait until later. Belinda was intoxicated by her success, believing herself irresistible. She was determined to queen it over her suitors who she was sure were unable to stay away from her.
But Lucy was worried by the course Belinda and her stepmother were pursuing. Lord Sneyd would not wait patiently while Belinda encouraged his bitter rival.
Chapter Eight
Secret Plans
That evening they attended their first assembly at Almack’s. Lady Sinclair had welcomed news of the Richmond outing, as had Belinda who viewed it as a chance to flirt with Lord Devlyn. She was in high spirits as they arrived at the Assembly Rooms in King Street well before 11 o’clock, after which time the doors were closed.
Lucy recalled Lord Devlyn’s views on Almack’s and found she agreed with them. The Great Room – over one hundred feet long and decorated with gilt columns and enormous mirrors - was opulent but its other attractions were few. Only country-dances and quadrilles were allowed and the refreshments consisted of weak tea, stale cake and bread and butter.
Yet it remained the most exclusive club in London. For Lady Sinclair, attending Almack’s was a long-held ambition. The ballroom and supper room were crowded and Lucy was intrigued to see so many of the ton under one roof, but she kept her observations on their attire, manners and partners to herself. They were under scrutiny here more than anywhere. But Belinda seemed determined to be outspoken and grew worse as the evening went on.
“I never saw anything as ugly as Charlotte Covington’s gown, although I daresay it would look a great deal more pleasing on me. She has the wrong figure for it,” said Belinda loudly, observing that young lady across the ballroom.
“Pray lower your voice!” urged Lucy.
“But it is tiresome to be always considering one’s behaviour. Even Mama lectured me on how to go on this evening, but soon I shall behave just as I please. No one will dare criticise me when I am a married to a leader of the ton .” She gave a trill of laughter. “La, they will probably say I am setting a new fashion for any odd thing I do! How I shall enjoy being above people like Charlotte Covington - she has been odiously condescending toward me all evening!”
Lucy bit back a barbed retort; it would be unwise to fan Belinda’s temper into flames in these surroundings. Her mood was already fractious. She had been engaged for every dance yet some of her beaux did not appear as enamoured as before. Arthur Baillie and Sir Jocelyn Gardner remained among the group following Belinda slavishly, but their numbers had dwindled.
Mr. Brindley-Soames had drifted away and was now expected to offer for Lady Charlotte Covington, a rumour which explained Belinda’s malicious comments.
Lucy was simply pleased not to be a wallflower. She was not rich or beautiful, but gentlemen had hurried to dance
“And how did you reply, Belinda?”
Her step-sister glanced up. “Just as Mama and I discussed. I have neither rejected nor accepted him – I intend to make him wait until Devlyn makes me an offer.”
Lucy drew in a breath. “Don’t trifle with Lord Sneyd! Judging by his expression, he will not be willing to wait long.”
Belinda rolled her eyes heavenward. “You are so stupid, Lucy. I know how to hold a man’s interest. If he is jealous of Devlyn and others, so much the better.”
“There can be no harm in delaying,” said Lady Sinclair. “Lord Devlyn will propose soon and if your sister has several offers to choose from, it is no more than she deserves. Now Belinda, let us decide whether you are to wear your pearls or your diamonds this evening….”
Lucy returned to her room. Her news about the trip to Richmond would wait until later. Belinda was intoxicated by her success, believing herself irresistible. She was determined to queen it over her suitors who she was sure were unable to stay away from her.
But Lucy was worried by the course Belinda and her stepmother were pursuing. Lord Sneyd would not wait patiently while Belinda encouraged his bitter rival.
Chapter Eight
Secret Plans
That evening they attended their first assembly at Almack’s. Lady Sinclair had welcomed news of the Richmond outing, as had Belinda who viewed it as a chance to flirt with Lord Devlyn. She was in high spirits as they arrived at the Assembly Rooms in King Street well before 11 o’clock, after which time the doors were closed.
Lucy recalled Lord Devlyn’s views on Almack’s and found she agreed with them. The Great Room – over one hundred feet long and decorated with gilt columns and enormous mirrors - was opulent but its other attractions were few. Only country-dances and quadrilles were allowed and the refreshments consisted of weak tea, stale cake and bread and butter.
Yet it remained the most exclusive club in London. For Lady Sinclair, attending Almack’s was a long-held ambition. The ballroom and supper room were crowded and Lucy was intrigued to see so many of the ton under one roof, but she kept her observations on their attire, manners and partners to herself. They were under scrutiny here more than anywhere. But Belinda seemed determined to be outspoken and grew worse as the evening went on.
“I never saw anything as ugly as Charlotte Covington’s gown, although I daresay it would look a great deal more pleasing on me. She has the wrong figure for it,” said Belinda loudly, observing that young lady across the ballroom.
“Pray lower your voice!” urged Lucy.
“But it is tiresome to be always considering one’s behaviour. Even Mama lectured me on how to go on this evening, but soon I shall behave just as I please. No one will dare criticise me when I am a married to a leader of the ton .” She gave a trill of laughter. “La, they will probably say I am setting a new fashion for any odd thing I do! How I shall enjoy being above people like Charlotte Covington - she has been odiously condescending toward me all evening!”
Lucy bit back a barbed retort; it would be unwise to fan Belinda’s temper into flames in these surroundings. Her mood was already fractious. She had been engaged for every dance yet some of her beaux did not appear as enamoured as before. Arthur Baillie and Sir Jocelyn Gardner remained among the group following Belinda slavishly, but their numbers had dwindled.
Mr. Brindley-Soames had drifted away and was now expected to offer for Lady Charlotte Covington, a rumour which explained Belinda’s malicious comments.
Lucy was simply pleased not to be a wallflower. She was not rich or beautiful, but gentlemen had hurried to dance
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