An Unlikely Debutante. Laura Martin

woman into an acceptable debutante within six weeks, no matter her background.’

      ‘And your brother-in-law challenged you to do just that?’

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘With me?’

      Lord Whitemore grimaced. ‘It wasn’t you specifically. It was the next woman of marriageable age to walk past.’

      ‘And I’m the lucky girl? What happens if I refuse you straight away?’

      ‘I lose the wager.’

      ‘Why should that matter to me?’

      Lina watched as Lord Whitemore’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and she saw the flicker of a smile on his lips.

      ‘Right now of course it doesn’t, but come and have a drink with me and we can work the details out.’

      Glancing over her shoulder as a ruse to buy a few seconds to make a decision, Lina deliberated. Although she knew she should be working, trying to earn the money she owed Uncle Tom, Lina had been performing at village fairs since she could walk and she was bored. She wanted more in her life than travelling with the same people, working the same jobs. She wanted excitement and adventure, and maybe this was her chance.

      Lord Whitemore was already walking away towards one of the tents serving the local cider by the time she turned to face him again.

      Muttering a string of expletives under her breath, Lina watched him go, wondering when he would realise she wasn’t following him. As much as she complained about her gypsy family and way of life, she couldn’t stand the arrogance of the upper classes. No one in her family would act so imperiously, especially if they wanted a favour. This Lord Whitemore needed her—he’d admitted as much not two minutes earlier—and now he was expecting her to scamper after him like some obedient puppy.

      With one hand lifting her skirts, Lina hopped over a muddy puddle and wove through the crowds back towards the lively country music. She allowed herself a satisfied smile at the thought of Lord Whitemore arriving at the cider tent on his own, joining the small group of young women hovering by the musicians.

      Raul was plucking away at his strings, tapping his foot to keep time for the little group. When he caught sight of Lina he nodded towards the empty space that had been cordoned off for dancing. It was the same at every fair—people would wander about for the first hour or two, enjoying the cider, looking at the different goods to buy and inspecting the livestock, but before long they would gravitate towards the music. Huddles of young women would look longingly at the fresh-faced young men across the open-air dance floor, hoping someone would ask them to dance. Of course no one wanted to be the first to sashay out into the open with everyone watching, and that was where Lina came in.

      ‘Ready?’ she asked a young man whom she was probably distantly related to. John was only a few years older than her, with a mass of dark hair and deep brown eyes. He was popular with the village girls wherever they went. He and Lina always took to the dance floor together, performing for the onlookers before splitting up to entice others to dance. It was a well-practised routine and as Raul saw them come together he motioned to the other musicians to up the tempo.

      One of Lina’s greatest pleasures in life was dancing. As the music washed over her, she didn’t even have to think about the steps, just allowed her body to take over and move instinctively to the music. At these times she forgot about the audience gathered watching her and instead danced this first dance as if she was the only person in the entire world.

      Round and round they spun, their feet barely touching the ground, and only as the music slowed temporarily did Lina catch sight of Lord Whitemore making his way to the front of the crowd.

      ‘My dance, I think,’ Lord Whitemore said as he reached them, catching Lina by the hand. At the same time John winked at a young country girl, beckoning her out to join him, so now there were four on the dance floor.

      ‘Lord Whitemore, I applaud your persistence, but I am working,’ Lina said, pulling away.

      ‘Enticing people to dance?’

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘Then let me help.’

      Before Lina could even open her mouth to protest Lord Whitemore had gripped her firmly around the waist, pulled her in closer so her body was pressed tightly against his and whisked her off across the grassy dance floor.

      ‘I don’t need your help.’

      ‘It is nice to help out your fellow human being. Rewarding.’ He spun her unexpectedly and flashed a flawless pearly white grin.

      Out of the corner of her eye Lina could see her brother looking in their direction. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. The last thing she wanted was for Raul to come hurtling at an influential landowner. One well-placed punch and they would be moved on before the fair was even fully underway.

      ‘Fifteen pounds,’ Lina said, as she was twirled backwards and forward. Lord Whitemore was a good dancer and it was taking all her considerable skill to keep up as he guided her this way and that.

      ‘Fifteen pounds?’

      ‘That’s my price.’

      ‘That might be a slight problem.’

      Lina bristled. ‘You don’t think I’m worth fifteen pounds?’

      ‘Not at all, my dear, I’m sure you’re worth ten times that figure. But one of the conditions of the wager is that I am not allowed to pay you.’

      ‘Then why would I do it?’

      ‘From the goodness of your heart?’

      Lina laughed. ‘My heart isn’t that good. Six weeks is a long time. If I’m with you, becoming the perfect debutante, I’m not working. I’ll lose money.’

      As the last note of the dance sounded, Lina felt Lord Whitemore release his grip just a little. He still wasn’t letting her go, but seemed content to hold her at arm’s length and regard her for a moment.

      ‘I would not be able to pay you,’ he said slowly. ‘But there was no rule against the giving of gifts.’

      Lina tried to hide the flare of hope in her eyes. Maybe this was the solution she’d been hoping for. Uncle Tom might moan, but he would accept payment of her debt in jewellery or other goods, as long as he was paid.

      ‘What would I be expected to do exactly?’

      ‘You would come and live with me for six weeks.’ Lord Whitemore held up a hand just as Lina opened her mouth to protest. ‘I will, of course, ensure you are properly chaperoned during that time. Your reputation will be safeguarded.’

      ‘My brother will still protest. He is rather protective.’

      ‘As all good brothers should be. I will talk to him, man to man, and give him my assurances that nothing untoward will happen.’

      Lina shrugged. If Lord Whitemore could persuade Raul to let her stay with him for six weeks, then she would be mightily impressed. Many people thought gypsies to have loose morals and easy virtues, but in Lina’s experience the same standards were expected of the young gypsy women as every other young woman. They might not live the same conventional lives as everyone else, but if they wanted to find a decent partner to settle down with, they were expected to be untouched and unblemished on their wedding night.

      ‘And whilst I am staying with you for six weeks...?’ Lina asked.

      ‘I will teach you to dance, to converse, how to address people at social functions.’

      ‘Really complicated skills, then.’

      ‘I admit you can dance, but can you dance a waltz? You can converse, but can you impress a group of society matrons with your demure manner and correct forms of address?’

      Lina shrugged. This was why she had always steered clear of the county dances in the towns