Falling for the Marquess - Julianne MacLean Page 0,65
of it.”
“A marquess? You needn’t wonder if I will approve. Handsome or not, I will adore him.”
Beatrice Wilson did, of course, adore him. Clara watched her mother meet Seger in the ballroom with a look of pure wonder—a look that had more to do with how handsome he was than the simple fact that he was an English lord.
After their engagement was announced publically, everyone seemed to suddenly share her mother’s opinion. It had been many years since Seger frequented society ballrooms, and Clara guessed that most of these people were finally admitting to their fascination with him, for he was like no other man in London. He had always been a novelty, and now the powerful Duke of Wentworth had welcomed the fallen marquess into his family, and people were at last free to admire him. He was accepted.
Clara stood off to the side alone, watching Seger dance with his cousin, Miss Flint, and watching his stepmother beam with happiness. The woman appeared pleased to see her son moving about in good society again. Clara was proud to have played a part in that.
Just then, an attractive woman wearing a dark crimson gown, with rubies sewn into the skirt, approached her. She was Lady Cleveland and she was exceptionally beautiful.
“You mustn’t stare,” Lady Cleveland said. “Everyone else is doing a fine job of that, and you shall have him all to yourself soon enough.”
Clara turned to face her, and the woman raised a coquettish, arched eyebrow.
“You must tell me how you did it, Miss Wilson.”
Clara tried not to squeeze her champagne glass too tightly. “And you are referring to…?”
“How you snared him. He doesn’t need your foreign money, so however did you manage to turn a man who has such a great predisposition toward bachelorhood into the marrying kind?”
Clara could barely swallow as she gazed at the woman beside her, whose eyes raked over Clara with a sneer. “I didn’t snare him.”
The woman smirked. “Well, whatever you did, I could kill you for it. I only hope you will allow him some freedom eventually and won’t become one of those jealous wives.”
Clara had to fight to breathe over the fury welling up inside her. “If you would make your meaning clear, Lady Cleveland.”
The woman kept her gaze on the dancers as she sipped her champagne. “I thought I already had.”
The dance ended and Seger escorted Miss Flint to Quintina, then immediately made his way across the floor to where Clara stood with Lady Cleveland.
“My lady,” he said, bowing over her hand and placing a kiss on her gloved knuckles. “It is a pleasure, indeed.”
“The pleasure is all mine, my lord,” she replied in a low voice that held a dozen-and-one hidden meanings. It was more than clear that these two had a history together and Lady Cleveland wanted it known. “I believe congratulations are in order.”
“Yes, I see you’ve met my fiancée.”
The woman gave Clara a haughty look down the length of her nose. “I have indeed. She is very sweet, Seger. Not your usual type.”
The intimate manner in which she spoke his given name made all the tiny hairs on the back of Clara’s neck stand up. She would have liked to empty her champagne glass over the top of the woman’s head, but resisted the urge, tempting as it was.
Seger merely watched the dancers. “It’s been awhile, Lady Cleveland,” he said.
“Indeed, it has. Where have you been hiding, Seger? Besides the usual haunts.”
“I haven’t been hiding at all,” he replied.
“Then why haven’t I seen you?”
He paused. “Because I’ve been occupied lately. But I expect you’ll see more of me, now that I am ‘out.’”
Lady Cleveland threw back her head and laughed. “And a magnificent debut it was, Seger.” She gave his arm a little squeeze as she moved around him to take her leave. “I hope I will see you later,” she said quietly in his ear. “These things can be so frightfully dull. I may be in need of some entertainment after supper.”
Clara watched her fiancé’s eyes follow the other woman across the room, then he picked up a glass of champagne from a passing footman and turned his attention back to her. “Clara, I feel your ire like a cold North wind.”
“Can you blame me?”
He glanced back at Lady Cleveland. “Don’t worry about her. She’s just bored, that’s all, and she enjoys a little competition.”
“She said she hoped I wouldn’t be a jealous wife, and that I wasn’t your type.”