Page 36 of A Victim, A Viscount, And Miss Mifford
"You, Miss Mifford," Lord Crabb replied solemnly, "Are the most important person in the room, in my eyes."
Then he held out his gloved hand and Jane took it in her own, and allowed him to lead her to the dancefloor.
As with all country assemblies, the dance was a group one—a lively quadrille—though it felt as romantic as a waltz to Jane. Despite the fact that they switched partners frequently, the viscount's eyes never left Jane's. His touch when they were reunited felt like fire, their parting an aching sorrow. The quadrille was, Jane decided as the music came to an end, probably the most romantic of any dance.
Lord Crabb escorted Jane from the floor to her parents, who were both flushed from their own dance.
"Aren't you a handsome couple?" Mrs Mifford commented, with all the subtlety of a brick, as they approached.
"Thank you, Lord Crabb," Jane said, pointedly ignoring her mother, "That was tremendous fun."
"We shall do it again, before the night is over," the viscount replied, and for a moment Jane feared that her mother was about to swoon.
"I'm coming back for you, Miss Mifford," Lord Crabb whispered, as he left Jane in the safe embrace of her family. He then crossed the room to greet Sir Charles, and the other villagers of note.
"Heavens, Albert," Mrs Mifford whispered, her eyes on the departing viscount, "You must prepare the banns, so you can read them at service tomorrow."
"A tad presumptuous, my dear," Mr Mifford replied, lightly, "He has not asked her yet."
"A second dance is tantamount to a proposal," Mrs Mifford huffed, annoyed that her plan was being thwarted.
"And yet, in the eyes of the law, it really is not," Mr Mifford placed his arms around his wife's shoulders, "Come, you have two other daughters you may annoy, leave Jane in peace."
With that, Mr Mifford escorted his wife across the room to pester Emily and Eudora. Jane gave a sigh of relief, glad to be free of her mother. Her dance with Lord Crabb had been heavenly and she wished to savour it, not have it tainted by meddling.
Hoping she did not look too dreamy, Jane began a promenade of the room. Mrs Canards and Mrs Wickling eyed her speculatively as she passed, while Miss Morton—much to Jane's delight—wore the expression of one who had just sucked a lemon.
Jane procured a glass of watery ratafia from the refreshment table and idly watched the dancers perform their set. Mrs Lacey was accompanied by Mr Adonis, whose breeches really were far too revealing to dance in, Sarah was dancing with a farmer from another parish, and even James—Nora's brother—was partaking.
It was a very happy scene, Jane thought, feeling a surge of affection for the villagers of Plumpton. This affection was only slightly dimmed by the arrival of Miss Morton and her sister, followed by several other village ladies, who immediately began to press Jane on her connection to the viscount.
"He walked straight up to you, he'd eyes for no one else," Mrs Buckle remarked.
"That's not surprising, when the viscount has not been introduced to anyone else in the village," Miss Morton sniffed, "Any port in a storm, as they say. I have the sampler I stitched for the late Lord Crabb in my reticule, perhaps I shall present it to him now."
"I believe he would be touched by your kindness," Jane remarked, her happiness allowing her to be magnanimous to even Miss Morton.
"Oh, because you know him so well," the other girl huffed, before flouncing off in Lord Crabb's direction.
"Jealousy is an unbecoming shade on any lady," Mrs Buckle chuckled, "She should stitch that on a sampler."
Jane bit her lip to keep from laughing at poor Miss Morton. Luckily, the other ladies were full of gossip about this and that, and there was no need to reply to Mrs Buckle.
After a short while, Sarah approached the group, her brow creased in a frown of worry. She tugged on Jane's arm to pull her away.
"I cannot find Prunella," she whispered, her worried gaze scanning the room for her cousin.
"She must be around here somewhere," Jane hissed back, "She hardly decided to walk to Hillside House in the dark."
"She might have," Sarah fretted, "She seemed most out of sorts."
"Do not panic," Jane instructed, for Sarah looked about to do just that, "She will be close by, perhaps she wanted a moment alone. She might be overwhelmed by the crowd."
As the assembly room was heaving with bodies, and was hot and noisy as a result, it was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. So much so, that Sarah visibly relaxed and nodded her agreement.
"I shall check outside," Jane decided, "You have a look in the ladies' retiring room—if she's anywhere, she's there."
Sarah complied and flitted off, while Jane pushed her way through the crowds to the door. She traipsed down the stairs and out the door to the village square, which was filled with waiting carts and carriages. There were few about, but light shone from the windows of The Ring, which was doing a roaring trade with gentleman who had slipped away from upstairs.
