The Royal Conquest(16)

Not that it was much of an escape. Twin turquoise eyes swung in her direction. If Payton had not known better, she would have thought someone had died. The room seethed with disquiet. Her mother, Mrs. Katherine Peppiwell, and her Aunt Florence, the Countess of Merryweather, bore a similar appalled countenance.

“You were trapped in a cabin with a commoner. This must never come out,” her mother snapped.

There were absolutely no polite preliminaries or even the chance to seat herself before the start of the attack. The sharp retort hovering on Payton’s lips died. Oh, Mama.

When would this desire to marry her to a lord end? Father had made several connections with prominent families since their sojourn to England, taking the Peppiwell family closer to the heart of the social elevation they desired. Before her sister Phillipa’s marriage to Lord Anthony, it had not been so. But Lord Anthony was referred to as a lion of commerce with a golden touch for investments, and her father was more than thrilled with their connection. It infuriated Payton that her family still insisted she needed to wed, and to a titled man.

“Did you hear me, young lady?” her mother demanded fiercely.

Payton almost rolled her eyes, but caught herself in the nick of time. Another lecture on propriety would not be welcome. “Yes, Mother.”

“My nerves are still unsettled to know you were alone with a commoner,” her aunt fretted.

Exasperation rushed through Payton and she sauntered over to sit in front of the table by the window. “I am a commoner, Aunt. And as secluded as Sherring Cross is, I fail to see how society would discover my unintentional faux pas. Mr. Konstantinovich did rescue me from being seriously injured and acted as a true gentleman in assisting my return to the main house without being seen.”

“Did he touch you or act inappropriately in any manner?” her mother demanded with narrowed eyes.

“Of course not! He is a respectable acquaintance of His Grace.” Her mind flitted to the caress against her lips, and the potent desire on his face when he had inhaled her scent. For a heart-stopping moment, she had thought he would truly kiss her. And Payton had been unsure of what her reaction would have been. She was grateful he had pulled away and released her from the mesmerizing effect of his dark sensuality.

Aunt Florence sighed. “We have been most fortunate to receive an invitation to the duchess’s intimate house party. There will be many suitable titled gentlemen in attendance, who are closely acquainted with such a wonderful family. The season is drawing to a close, my dear, and you need to snag a gentleman before they all retire to the country for hunting. It would not do for you to be presented for a third season.”

Payton had not been presented anywhere. Her entry into society had been unremarkable, and she was only remembered as the jilted. Not as someone to whom a promise had been broken, but as the jilted, as if such a sobriquet defined her. While she was happy to be a part of the select few the Duchess of Calydon called “friend”, Payton still found mixing with lords and ladies unpleasant. She’d resolved to spend the next two weeks soaking up Sebastian and Jocelyn’s kindness and hospitality, but Payton was more interested in visiting the twins and reading them stories they were too young to understand, than husband hunting as her mother and aunt wished. Only the finest lords would be in attendance, and of course it was her duty to snare one. “Please, Aunt. Not today.”

“This disdain you show for society cannot continue,” Aunt Florence snapped. “It has been several months since Lord Jensen St. John…”

A look of discomfort crossed Aunt Florence’s face, and Payton smiled tightly. It had indeed been several months since he had walked away after publicly announcing their engagement to the haute monde. “I feel no disdain for society, Aunt, I am simply indifferent.” Payton would never admit pain still twisted her heart when she remembered how young ladies she’d believed to be friends cut her after Lord Jensen walked away.

“Well,” Aunt Florence said, clearly flustered. “This indifference cannot continue. It has been made known that your father has doubled your dowry. I believe even St. John may be persuaded to walk with you again, my dear, and that would certainly make society look favorably on you.”

Now was not the time to let it be known that he was already pressing his suit. “I have been jilted, and all of London blames me for it. I still cannot understand how a broken engagement suggests inferiority on my part, when it was the man who was inconstant. I do not care if I find favor with the haute monde.”

“Let’s not refer to that unpleasant time,” her mother said. “Have you looked through the list of gentlemen your aunt left with you earlier? Lord Danbury is at the top of the list. I find him to be exceedingly pleasant, and he is not too old. We believe the earl to be only forty-five, and he is actively seeking a wife. ”