Debutante in the Regency Ballroom: A Country Miss in Hanover Square. Anne Herries

I thought it was you,’ Mary said. ‘Are you thinking of buying a new bonnet? I shall be making several purchases soon …’ She looked coy. ‘I cannot name the gentleman yet, though you may guess—but it is not official, you know.’

      ‘I see. I must wish you happy,’ Susannah said. ‘Excuse me, I must go home. I am expected …’

      She walked away, head high, trying not to show that she was feeling agitated. She could only imagine that Mary Hamilton was speaking of Lord Pendleton, for it was he she had been thinking of when Susannah had overheard her at a dance a couple of weeks earlier.

      Susannah’s heart was heavy as she walked home, accompanied by her maid. It was foolish of her to feel like this, because, kind as he was, Harry Pendleton had said nothing to her. He had never suggested in any way that he found her more enchanting than any other lady of his acquaintance. It was quite ridiculous of her to feel disappointed or let down. Indeed, she was not. Truly she was not … but it did hurt just a little that the gentleman she thought of as her particular friend should have been intending to make Mary Hamilton an offer all the time.

      Susannah decided that she must put a brave face on it. She knew that she would meet both Lord Pendleton and Mary at the dance that evening. She would not let them or anyone else see that she was suffering from a heavy disappointment.

      She happened to be wearing white again that evening. It was not a new gown, but one she had worn several times before. Glancing at herself in the mirror as she left Amelia’s house, she knew that she looked very well. However, when Mary arrived, she looked stunning in a gown that took Susannah’s breath. It was obviously very expensive, the silk sewn with diamonds across the bodice and trimmed with Brussels lace at the hem, and the necklace of rubies and diamonds she was wearing was worth a small fortune; she also wore a stunning ring on the finger of her left hand. It was hardly any wonder that she had a look of triumph in her eyes! Susannah’s heart sank as she heard the news circulating. Mary Hamilton had been right to anticipate a proposal and, when it was made, she had accepted.

      Susannah had not seen the party come in, but she caught sight of Harry moments before she saw the triumph on Mary Hamilton’s face. It was little wonder that she should look so proud—she had claimed for herself one of the best matches of the season!

      Susannah would not let herself listen to the gossip. Instead, she threw herself into the evening, flirting with her partners and laughing at their jests. Her heart was aching, for only now had she realised how much Harry meant to her—but it was too late. He had made his choice and it was not her.

      It was not until more than an hour had passed that Harry came to her. She thought how handsome he looked, dressed immaculately in the style made fashionable by Mr Brummell, once the Regent’s favourite, his coat and breeches black, his shirt pristine white and his cravat a masterpiece set off by a diamond stick pin that sparkled in the light of the candles. His simple elegance made him stand out from many of the other gentlemen, who appeared overdressed by comparison. He smiled ruefully. ‘I am late,’ he apologised. ‘I suppose it is too much to hope that you saved a dance for your best friend.’

      ‘I fear that it is,’ Susannah said in a reserved manner. ‘I did not think you would wish it now—and so I gave them all away.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ Harry was puzzled, but before she had time to answer, her next partner was there asking her to dance. He watched as she was whisked away and stood frowning as she laughed up at the young man. Devonshire was the heir to a duke, but it was unlikely he would look at Susannah, for he needed an heiress to support his expensive tastes.

      Harry took up a position next to the French windows, watching Susannah as she went from partner to partner. He could not understand what had happened to her. She was always a lively girl, but this evening she seemed almost reckless. Yet he would swear that her laughter was not her usual carefree mirth. She was upset about something and she blamed him—but for the life of him he could not think what he had done to distress her.

      Could it be that he had been deceived in her? He had thought he was gaining ground, but now it seemed they had gone back to the start. Harry shrugged. He did not care to stay and watch. He would go to his club or perhaps visit the lady who had been his mistress until a few weeks previously. He had finished his affair with Elaine, for it no longer pleased either of them, but he could talk to her—and he was in need of some female advice at this moment. Advice that he would never dream of asking from his mother or his sister.

      Susannah did not see him leave, but she became aware that he was missing just before supper. Glancing round the supper room, she thought he might be found there, but he had disappeared. However, she saw Mary Hamilton, Lady Hamilton and a gentleman of about fifty years she recognised as the Marquis of Stavely. He was wearing a puce coat, tight breeches that showed off his rather large stomach and a black wig that was really rather odd. As if aware of her interest, he lifted a gold lorgnette to his eye and looked her way. Susannah blushed and hastily averted her gaze.

      She had turned her attention to the food and was deciding what to eat when Mrs Hampton came up to her. ‘It is good news concerning Miss Hamilton, is it not, Susannah? Have you taken the opportunity to wish her happy?’

      ‘No, Mama—I met her this morning. She told me she expected a proposal, but I did not expect it this evening …’ Her voice quavered a little and her mother gave her an odd look. Her look of distress was plain and Mrs Hampton frowned. ‘He said nothing of her to me even this evening …’

      ‘Are you thinking …?’ Mrs Hampton smiled all at once. ‘Susannah, my dear—Miss Hamilton is engaged to the Marquis of Stavely.’

      ‘The marquis …’ Susannah stared in dismay. ‘But I thought … I knew she had thoughts of … another gentleman.’ How could Miss Hamilton have accepted an offer from a man nearly old enough to be her grandfather?

      ‘I imagine that is the reason for your behaviour this evening.’ Mrs Hampton looked a little disapproving. ‘I knew there was something. I told you once I did not think Pendleton was interested in Miss Hamilton. I believe you should go and congratulate her, Susannah. It may look as if you are jealous of her good fortune if you do not.’

      ‘Yes, Mama, of course,’ Susannah said. She went at once and said everything that was proper, ignoring the smirk on Mary’s face. It was clear that the young lady was very pleased with her bargain—indeed, the marquis was wealthy and titled—but Susannah did not envy her one little bit. She would rather remain a spinster than marry the man Mary Hamilton had accepted.

      After congratulating her, Susannah went back to the ballroom. She looked for Lord Pendleton, but could not see him. She ventured to the open door of the card room and glanced in, but he was not there. Obviously he had left at some time earlier and she had not seen him go. What must he think of her?

      ‘If you are looking for Pendleton, he is visiting his mistress,’ a harsh voice said behind her. She swung round to find herself looking at the Marquis of Northaven. ‘I heard him give the address to a cab driver as I got down from one myself.’ Northaven sneered. ‘I know the lady well. She is not particular in the company she keeps.’

      Susannah bit her lip. She would not trust herself to answer such a remark, for it was said spitefully and not worthy of notice. ‘Excuse me, I must find my mama.’

      She walked away from him, her heart racing. It was not her affair if Lord Pendleton had gone to visit his mistress. She regretted refusing him a dance when she might have given him a choice of two had she wished, but it would not have made any difference if he wished to spend the evening in the arms of his mistress. Susannah felt close to tears, because she had been foolish. She should have made sure of her facts before sending Harry Pendleton away. He must have thought her most rude, as she had been, a fact she now bitterly regretted.

      Susannah did not see Harry the following day. He called while she was out walking with some friends and left her a posy of flowers. He renewed his promise to see her at her dance, but nothing more. She knew that she could not expect more. Indeed, she had not expected as much after her behaviour the previous evening. He must think