Page 41 of Dropping the Ball

“It was black and red,” the unfortunate lady wept, still dancing around. “It had a long tail and legs and pointy claws. Oh, it is going to bite me and I shall die,” she wept.

Bernadette spotted the lizard under the woman’s easel. It was as long as her forearm, yes, but it was thin and entirely harmless.

“Allow me,” she said, bending to pick the lizard up.

That set off a round of squeals and clamoring to get away among the ladies painting near her.

“It’s horrible!” one of them shouted, clinging to her friend and smearing paint across her bodice without being aware.

“They’re such wretched things,” one of the others wept.

“Keep it away from me,” the lady who had believed the lizard would bite her said, then wailed, “I want to go home!”

“So do I,” the one who was weeping said. “I cannot marry a man with snakes.”

Bernadette huffed an impatient sigh and searched around for an answer to calm the impending storm.

She caught sight of Alden as he strode forward, saying, “Do not worry, ladies. This magnificent species is called a fire skink, and they are completely harmless.”

The ladies paid no mind at all to Alden’s insistence that the lizard was harmless. They clustered to the side, clutching each other, as if for safety, as Alden came to take the skink away from Bernadette.

Bernadette caught her breath at the slip of Alden’s hands against hers as the skink was transferred. If it meant she could touch the man she loved openly and without censure, she would find and retrieve all the reptiles Alden owned.

“Fire skinks are natives of West Africa, but I acquired this feisty boy from a colleague of mine who could not house him any longer. Would you like to pet him? He is actually quite sweet.”

The ladies all squeaked and shuddered as Alden tried to approach them, holding out the skink.

It was then that Bernadette was struck by the perfect idea to both entertain and alleviate the fears of Alden’s guests, and perhaps make some of them more open to sharing Lyndhurst Grove and their lives with Alden.

“Why do you not offer the instructional tour of the terrarium that you had in mind now?” she asked, resting a hand on Alden’s arm. She turned to the ladies. “Would you not like to learn more about Lord Alden’s daring exploits in South America and the Caribbean and discover interesting things about the species he has brought back with him?”

The ladies all shook their heads emphatically, but Bernadette knew the idea was sound.

“Yes,” Alden said, turning to smile at Bernadette. “I think that would be an ideal afternoon activity. A tour of the terrarium would be just the thing.”

“I shall arrange it at once,” Bernadette said, her organizational mind going to work.

She stepped away from Alden, intent on making the ladies of the party less wary of Alden’s creatures, but even as she did, she wondered if doing so would spell the beginning of the end for whatever connection the two of them might have.

Chapter Fourteen

As Bernadette ventured off into the perplexing crowd of ladies–who Alden was increasingly certain were questioning their mothers’ wisdom in accepting an invitation to vie for the hand of a zookeeper–Alden took the fire skink into the terrarium to prepare for the lecture.

Part of him found Bernadette’s plan of educating the fear of reptiles out of the young ladies to be brilliant. Understanding often alleviated fear, and he was certain that if he adjusted the intended topics of the tour so that he could impress upon his guests how harmless and fascinating the majority of his specimens were, the small outbursts of panic that had marred his party so far would end.

The other part of him simply had a headache.

Alden had never minded large groups of people. Indeed, he had enjoyed parties and festivities of all sorts, from elaborate London balls to tribal celebrations in the Amazon. But having his home invaded by dozens of ladies who would never havecome anywhere near Lyndhurst Grove without the promise of marriage to a wealthy man to goad them was more of a trial than a delight.

His only consolation was that, just as he reached for the handle of the door that would let him into the terrarium, he spotted Lady Gladys on the other side of the garden, searching the area with a frown of irritation. She was searching for him, he was certain, which made slipping discreetly into the terrarium a sort of victory.

That feeling as if he’d gotten away with something was snapped when Waldorf’s voice demanded, “Why are you sneaking about your own estate?”

Alden jumped and turned to his cousin. As soon as he realized he was not about to be accosted by a matchmaking mama, or hounded by someone demanding he explain why he was tormenting half thetonwith snakes, he relaxed. “Why are you lurking in my terrarium when you should be outside, helping me organize my guests?” he asked in return.

Waldorf smirked. “Is that not why you hired the beguiling Lady Bernadette?”

Just the mention of Bernadette tugged at Alden’s insides with equal parts excitement and frustration. He delayed answering by crossing to a low-hanging branch of one of the terrarium’s trees and depositing the skink where it could run off and find a place to nap.

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