Page 55 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess
“I thought of that, actually,” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “But Neil is so ill at the moment. It’s bad enough that LadyMorendale is not being treated respectfully. I don’t want him to have to worry about me, as well. I’m a grown man, I can manage.”
Lucy considered this for a long moment. “I think that Lord Morendale might not like to be treated as a child. I’m not saying that youintendto do so, but wouldn’t it be better to let him decide for himself what he will worry about? You ought to tell him, Harry.”
“Perhaps you’re right. But not tonight, I think.”
He settled himself down on the floor beside her and poured out two glasses of champagne. “The food, however, is spectacular. Can I tempt you?”
Lucy took a glass with a smile. “I think you might.”
***
The ballroom was immensely crowded. Patrina often bumped against other guests, smiling and apologising over and over again. Her cheeks ached from smiling. Names and meaningless pleasantries buzzed round and round in her head. As well as that, she found that Neil was always in the back of her mind.
Is he comfortable? Does it look odd, him sitting down and not mingling? Well, it must, but there’s hardly anything that can be done about that. Is he feeling nervous? Am I doing enough? Is he embarrassed by my behaviour or not?
The next time she glanced over at the chair they’d placed in the corner for him, Patrina saw that Harry had disappeared somewhere. Clayton was nowhere to be seen, and nor was Thomasin. Emma and Cynthia were both off entertaining important guests.
Drawing in a breath, Patrina crossed the room towards Neil. The Evans couple had descended upon him, this time with their daughter in tow.
As Patrina moved closer, she heard snatches of their conversation.
“… just one dance, Lord Morendale! Of course, you’ll be opening the dance with your bride, naturally, but I’m sure you can spare a set or two for Geraldine. It will do her prospects much good to be seen with a gentleman of your calibre.”
Neil cleared his throat, shifting and looking uncomfortable. “I… I am not myself this evening, Lady Evans. You’ll see, I won’t be dancing with anyone tonight. Even Lady Morendale. I won’t be standing up with anyone, so please, don’t worry about a snub to your dear…”
“Oh, butoneset won’t kill you, will it?” Lady Evans pushed. “Here, let me write your name on her dance card.”
Patrina stepped up beside Lady Evans, smiling blandly. “What’s this about dance cards?”
Neil looked exhausted. His skin was losing what colour it had, and there were rings around his eyes. He looked anxious, too.
“I… I was trying to explain to Lady Evans about my health…” he began, blinking helplessly up at Patrina.
She smiled. “Of course, dearest. Lady Evans, Miss Evans, I’m afraid it will not be possible for my dear husband to dance on this occasion. Another time, perhaps.”
Lady Evans pursed her lips. “Well, really. It’s most irregular, Lady Morendale.”
Patrina’s smile widened. She shuffled closer to Neil and took his hand.
“You aren’t intending to steal away my husband on our very first soiree together, are you?”
Lady Evans flushed. Miss Evans, to do her credit, did not seem to care much whether she danced with Neil or not, and was currently smothering a yawn.
“Well, n-no,” Lady Evans muttered.
“I thought not. Do excuse us, Lady Evans, Miss Evans. I require a breath of fresh air, and my dearest husband is going to escort me.” Patrina glanced down at Neil, lifting her eyebrows. He scrambled to his feet at once, looking relieved. She noticed that he did not have the walking stick, and bit back a frown.
Lady Evans was obliged to back away, and they slowly cut their way through the crowds towards wide French doors at the side of the ballroom. Outside the doors was a long balcony, which Patrina was sure would be quiet and deserted at this stage in the evening. The heat had not yet gotten so bad in the ballroom that guests were forced to flit outside to cool down. Once the dancing had started, of course. it would be another matter entirely.
There were rules, naturally, to whether or not ladies could step out onto balconies. Unaccompanied? No, certainly not. It mattered little whether a lady and a gentleman were in full view of the entire ballroom – they could not be on a balcony together, unaccompanied. It was shocking, and the scandal would reverberate through a whole Season.
But Patrina was married, and so could go more or less where she liked. The newfound freedom thrilled her. Even something so simple as stepping out onto a balcony during a ball was something new and exciting.
Arm hooked through Neil’s, she glanced up at him as they made their way through the crowd. It was too loud to talk much, but she guessed that he was feeling hot and uncomfortable too, just as she was.
When they finally freed themselves from the crowd and stepped through the doors, the cool air outside was truly delicious. Patrina gave a sigh, closing her eyes and tilting back her head, letting the night breeze cool her clammy skin.
“I was going mad in there,” she murmured. “Everyone is kind – at least,mostpeople are kind – but it’s rather too much, don’t you think?”
