Read Online The Secret Mistress by Mary Balogh - Free Book Online

of oratory. At which a younger peer had slapped him on the shoulder, winked at Edward, and observed that His Grace had said the same thing of every maiden speech that had been delivered during the past fifty years.
    Edward had joined in a general burst of laughter. It had been, actually, the best moment. He had felt accepted.
    Anyway, it was a huge relief to have that ordeal behind him.
    It would have been pleasant to relax at home for the rest of the day or else to have gone to the theater or White’s Club or somewhere else where he could be a passive observer rather than an active doer. But there was this infernal ball of Tresham’s to attend. And, if that was not bad enough, there was the opening set to dance with Tresham’s sister.
    At least Eunice would be there. He would reserve the second set with her and hope she was content to sit it out with him. Then at last he would be comfortable and could relax in the knowledge that this long-dreaded day was effectively at an end.
    He arrived at Dudley House with his mother and Lorraine. He was happy to see them both in higher spirits than they had been for a long time. They were both out of mourning. His mother had become reacquainted with some of her numerous friends in the
ton
and seemed determined to put memories of her elder son to rest and concentrate her attentions upon her second son. Lorraine had put on some weight and looked the better for it. The color was back inher cheeks and the gloss in her hair. The weight, the color, and the gloss had disappeared even before Maurice’s death. Now she looked her age again. She was still only twenty-three, one year younger than Edward himself. She was a vivid beauty once more.
    Edward wished her well. He had always been fond of her and she of him. She had sometimes, though not often, confided her misery to him while Maurice lived. A few times he had tried to talk to his brother but had merely ended up being called a pompous ass for his pains.
    Edward made his way up the staircase inside Dudley House, a lady on each arm. This was one of the first grand balls of the Season. He doubted there was a person invited who was not here already or else in the long line of carriages outside the doors. The staircase was crowded as guests awaited their turn to pass along the receiving line.
    It still felt strange, Edward thought as they reached the doorway to the ballroom and the majordomo announced their names, to be treated with such deference. Mr. Edward Ailsbury had been able to slip into—and out of—any social event he chose without anyone particularly noticing. The Earl of Heyward was
someone
, even if he was also just an ordinary man or a pompous ass, depending upon who was describing him.
    “There is Lady Palmer,” Lorraine said, smiling. “She informed me that her brother will be here this evening—Lord Fenner, that is. I wonder if he has arrived yet.”
    Edward looked down at her with interest. He wondered if there was any significance in her mentioning Fenner, whom he knew as a pleasant enough man, a few years his senior.
    “It may take you an hour or two to find out even after passing along the receiving line,” he said. “It looks as if this ball is going to be a squeeze to end squeezes.”
    “Well, of course it is,” she said. “Who could resist an invitation to a ball at Dudley House? The Duke of Tresham
never
hosts balls.”
    Except tonight, Edward thought ruefully, for his sister, with whom Edward was going to have to dance. He wished suddenly that he had thought of persuading his mother to sit at the pianoforte inthe drawing room at home while he practiced steps with Lorraine or one of his sisters. But being rusty on the steps of all the most common dances was not his problem. Having two left feet was, and no amount of practice could rectify that.
    The receiving line was short. Lady Palmer was at the near side of it with Tresham next to her. The young lady beyond him was presumably Lady Angeline Dudley, but