Page 31 of A Fake Courtship with the Marquess
The young lady giggled and turned in a graceful whirl. “You are wicked, Lord Milford, as always.” Her keen eyes fell upon Henry. “I apologize, sir, I do not believe we have been introduced.”
“Ah, then I shall take the role of Master of Ceremonies.” Seth straightened up. “The Lady Olivia, eldest daughter of the Viscount of Hedfield, it is my honor to introduce you to Henry Finch, Marquess of Haskett.”
Recognition flickered across her face. “The Duke of Wright’s son?”
“I see my father’s reputation precedes me,” Henry said dryly.
She gave an awkward laugh. “I was merely trying to place you, Lord Haskett. Indeed, I am surprised we have not encountered one another before, for I am a very dear friend of Lord Milford’s sister, Lady Arabella.”
“She has not mentioned you.” Henry assessed her coolly.
Another awkward laugh followed. “I have been absent from her company for much too long. Perhaps, she has forgotten me.” She looked back at Seth with a somewhat pointed expression. “Is your sister not attending tonight?”
“She is supposed to be here,” Seth replied, giving Henry a sharp nudge in the side. “How much champagne have you had, Haskett? You have not yet kissed Lady Olivia’s hand.”
Henry took the swiftly offered hand and pressed it fleetingly to his lips. “My apologies, Lady Olivia. I was rather distracted by the crush of this hall. It is difficult to catch one’s breath, much less find a hand when there are so many nudging into me.” He shot a withering look at Seth, who smirked.
“It is awful, is it not?” Lady Olivia agreed, apparently not caring who heard her. “I just heard that they are serving supper in phases of a quarter hour—if you are not finished in that time, you will be forcibly ousted. Outrageous, really.”
Henry nodded. “Mmm… I suppose so.”
“With so many ladies present, and barely enough gentlemen, I am beginning to worry that no one will ask me to dance.” Lady Olivia sighed, obviously performing.
To Henry’s horror, Seth chimed in with, “Haskett will dance with you.”
“Pardon?” Henry stared at his friend.
“It is in your best interests to garner some knowledge of your future wife’s only friend,” Seth replied. “There is no better time than when you are in a ballroom. It is far quieter in there, I hear, as they could not fit many tables inside, and they have limited the number of dancers.”
Lady Olivia waited patiently for a reply. For several moments, Henry contemplated striding out of the house and spending the rest of the evening out in the gardens. Or, perhaps, he would simply refrain from asking the young lady to dance, considering he was technically betrothed to someone else. However, as time stretched on, he could see her beginning to panic.
“Might I request to dance the next set with you, Lady Olivia?” he said, feeling sorry for her. Besides, he figured it might be good to learn more of Arabella from someone who was genuinely close to her.
Even if I have never heard a word about you.
Lady Olivia seemed to shrink with relief, fanning herself wildly. “Of course, Lord Haskett. It would be my pleasure. Shall I await you in the ballroom?”
“Where else would you await me?” He meant it in jest, but Lady Olivia looked wounded.
With a curtsy, she slipped away, back into the crowd of people. Despite the suffocating swell of guests, her disappearance made Henry feel like he could breathe again.
“You realize you are going to get me in trouble, do you not?” Henry remarked, tugging at his collar.
Seth frowned. “How so?”
“For someone who professes to care about his sister’s feelings, you are being exceedingly dense, my good friend.” Henry rolled his eyes and gestured to the crowd. “I am not meant to dance with other ladies, given my circumstances. What will people think?”
Seth grimaced. “I did not think of that.”
“No, I daresay you did not.”
And now, I have to dance with this woman, though my eyes will be searching constantly for another.
* * *
In rather unladylike fashion, Arabella seized hold of her skirts as she mounted the steps to Viscount Mawdesley’s manor. She was in a rush to get inside, for she was already atrociously late, and feared she might trip.
“Arabella!” her mother bellowed from behind. “You will not embarrass me in such a manner!”
