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CHAPTER ONE

From the diary of Miss Jane Middleton, April 21st, 1814:

‘Dearest diary,

I have discovered since my arrival in London that attending a fashionable ball is rather like being a player in a theater production. 

To begin with everyone is expected to know their character and their precise stage directions.

Older gentlemen, who are notoriously hard of hearing, are placed well away from the orchestra so they may bellow at one another without disturbing the dancers.

Matrons and Dowagers are situated in a prominent position so that they may comfortably dispose of the reputations of the various guests.

The young, dashing blades and debutantes blessed with natural grace and beauty are allowed their privileged place in center stage as they flirt and twirl about the dance floor.

And last, and perhaps least, the unfortunate wallflowers are gathered together in a discrete, shadowed corner, rather like a forgotten, ill tended garden.

Woe be it to any player who does not meekly submit to their proper role…’

Miss Jane Middleton was frankly miserable.

She hated London.  She hated the thick, black air.  The narrow, crowded streets.  The endless noise.  The arrogant, utterly shallow Ton.  And most of all, she hated the painful, torturous humiliation of what was politely termed ‘The Marriage Mart.’

Who could have suspected that it would prove to be as delightful as having a tooth drawn? 

Without a mother to warn her of the pitfalls, she had simply presumed that all maidens traveled to London and were introduced to a number of gentlemen anxious to discover a wife.

She possessed no great expectations.

She knew she was plain of feature and far too outspoken for a lady.  She was also three and twenty, well past the age of a proper debutante.

But she did possess a sizeable fortune as well as an unentitled estate in Surrey that would surely be a temptation.  It seemed reasonable that she could discover a kindly disposed gentleman who would welcome such material possessions.

How could she have suspected that she would be so swiftly judged and found wanting?  Or that because she was not a Diamond of the First Water she was expected to politely remain in the corner, ignored and forgotten by the various gentlemen?

Really, it was enough to make any woman screech in frustration.

And it did not help to have her obvious failure made the source of amusement by those maidens who had achieved social success.

Shifting uneasily upon the hard, uncomfortable seat, Jane stoically attempted to ignore the two pretty maidens who had halted next to the clutch of wallflowers that had been thrust into a darkened corner.

Over the past few weeks she had endured any number of snubs, insults and cruel taunts from Miss Fairfax and Miss Tully.  They seemed to take particular delight in torturing those poor maidens already suffering beneath society’s disdain.  She had swiftly learned the only means of enduring their rude taunts was simply to pretend that she did not notice them.

Almost on cue, the tiny blond haired Miss Fairfax loosened a shrill giggle as she pointedly glanced toward Jane.  “Really, Marianna, is it truly not pathetic?  To just imagine an entire evening spent without one gentleman asking for a dance or even bothering to make his bow in your direction.  How utterly embarrassing it must be for them.”

The taller, raven-haired Miss Tully wrinkled her nose as if she had caught whiff of some particularly nasty odor.  “You would think that they would eventually realize that they are unwelcome.”

Jane clutched her fan until she feared it might snap.  Inwardly she allowed a delightful image to form of the two maidens being tumbled into a large, putrid midden heap.

Or perhaps roasting over a fire.  Slowly.

“If only it were possible to ban them.  It would be for their own good after all,” Miss Fairfax twittered.  “Surely they cannot enjoy an evening of being snubbed and ignored?”

“Perhaps they do not possess the wits to realize that they are so ill-favored that they will never attract the notice of an eligible gentleman?  After all, they are desperately persistent.” 

“True enough, although I fear that persistence will not be enough to lure a partner to this dismal corner.”

Miss Tully gave an unpleasant laugh.  “Well, perhaps Pudding faced Simpson.  Or poor, doddy Lord Hartstone.  It is said he requested a potted plant to honor him with a waltz last week.”

Miss Fairfax gave a dismissive sniff.  “Not even he is so doddy as to desire a dance with that lot.”

Jane bit the side of her lip until she drew blood.  Oh yes, she definitely wanted them roasting over a slow, hot fire.  With an apple stuck in their shrill mouths.

It was not that she often concerned herself with what others might say.  After all, she had been flouting convention since her father had insisted that she be trained to take over his numerous business concerns.  But the scandalous disapproval had never struck a nerve.  She had known deep within herself that she was perfectly capable of performing as well as any man.

This, however…

This disdain struck far too close to the truth, she grudgingly acknowledged.  After several weeks she still had not attracted the attention of a respectable gentleman.  Or any gentleman, for that matter.  If the truth be told, they avoided her as if she carried the pox.

At the moment it seemed more likely that she would sprout wings and fly as to find a husband.

“True enough,” Miss Tully drawled, and then thankfully, she was distracted by a movement across the crowded dance floor.  “Oh, oh.  Look, tis Hellion.”

With a nerve-wrenching squeal Miss Fairfax was bouncing on her toes to catch sight of the current toast of London society, Mr. Caulfield, a devilishly handsome gentleman who managed to send every woman in London fluttering like a batch of witless butterflies.

“Are you certain?”

“I am hardly likely to confuse him with any other gentleman, am I?” Miss Tully demanded in tart tones.

“No,” Miss Fairfax was forced to agree with a dramatic sigh.  “What other gentleman could possibly be so elegant or so handsome?”

“Or so rakishly charming.”

“How utterly delicious he is.”

“A pity he never pays heed to debutantes.  That is the sort of husband I desire.”

The blond slid her companion a sly glance.  “My mother says that a clever female could capture his elusive attention.  He is, after all a man, and as capable of tumbling into love as the next.”

Predictably Miss Tully frowned in a sour fashion.  It did not appear that friendship could be allowed to interfere in the all-important hunt for a husband.

“I suppose that you believe you are clever enough to win his heart?” she scoffed.

“We shall see.”  Miss Fairfax gave a shrug before wrapping her arm through Miss Tully’s.  “Come, he will certainly never stray towards these wretched creatures.  Let us stroll closer to him.”

Together the two maidens set off in determined pursuit of Mr. Caulfield and Jane allowed herself to glare at their retreating backs.

Really, it was bad enough to endure being ignored, shoved aside and at times given the cut direct.  But to be taunted by two maidens without a breath of sense between the two of them was beyond the pale.

She was in control of a vast fortune, she managed her own estate, and she had earned the respect of hardened businessmen who would have sworn that a female was incapable of caring for their own pin money.

It was unbearable that she should be judged less worthy than those twits simply because she did not possess a scrap of beauty.

In dire need of a moment’s respite from the choking heat and ill-disguised glances of disdain from the vast crowd Jane rose to her feet. 

Gads, she would give up half her fortune for the opportunity to return to the quiet peace of Surrey.