Page 24 of A Brilliant Match
The footman and maid brought in the tea things, and the conversation shifted easily as everything was set up, and Dorothea poured the tea for the guests. When everyone had been served, Miss Stanley turned to her.
“I hope you do not mind that I brought some gentlemen with me this morning,” she said. She tilted toward her as though they were great friends, and against her will, Dorothea responded to the gesture. She was desperately short of friends. There was no time to keep any.
“Not in the least. It is always a pleasure to make more acquaintances in London.” Dorothea clasped her hands on her lap, too nervous to sip her tea. She feared she might inadvertently dump it in her lap from her stress over the first time receiving callers of consequence. Well, Lord Hastings was of consequence, but he was not as close in age to her as these callers and did not make her quite as nervous.
She studied Miss Stanley, whose rich, reddish-brown curls shone in the sunlit room. She could not help but compare her heart-shaped face and sweet mouth to Sophia’s more noble nose and brow. Her sister must be declared the more beautiful, but Miss Stanley certainly had an engaging way about her that Sophia could learn from.
Miss Stanley leaned in again in that confidential way. “Lady Dorothea, I do not wish to be impertinent, but I was wondering if we might dispense with formalities? You may call me Maryann if you wish.”
Dorothea knew that such a thing was for her to propose as the social superior, but the thought of snubbing Miss Stanley so soon did not seem like something she could do. And it did seem as though Miss Stanley had been raised to mingle in Society in a way Dorothea had not, and therefore in that way was her superior. Besides, it would be nice to have a friend who was not related by blood.
“Very well. Please call me Dorothea.”
She listened as Maryann chatted away about thesoiréesshe had been to and the people she had met without seeming to require much in the way of answer. Dorothea did not mind. It took the burden off her to think of something witty to say when all she could focus on was what Lord Throckmorton must think of Everard, who had managed to keep him in conversation, or whether Mr. Weathering must find her family insufferably dull. No, he could not, for he was staring at Sophia in a promising way. She must find out more about his situation. Mr. Pollard had seemed to give up and was happy to intersperse a word with Lord Throckmorton and Everard, while her mother and Camilla looked on in silence.
By the time they took their leave, all Dorothea had managed to learn about Lord Throckmorton was that he was a viscount, but she was not sure if he was one in his own right or if it was a courtesy title. He was handsome, but apart from that first assessing look, he had seemed more intrigued with what Evo had to say than her.
She was beginning to fear she was frightfully dull.
Chapter10
Miles had received the promised invitation to the Answorths’ ball, which showed that Lady Milton had found a way of discovering his direction and had enough sway with Mrs. Answorth to ensure he had been invited. The fact that he lived in rented rooms rather than owning a London house had not deterred Lady Milton from securing a potential suitor for her daughter.
He entered the residence and searched the crowds still in the entryway, hoping to spy a glimpse of Lady Dorothea. Although he had come with the full intention of honoring his promise to dance with Miss Milton, his thoughts had begun to turn to Lady Dorothea in increasing measure. He had not—couldnot—forget the sight of Albert’s carriage barreling away with her in it, a fault he still laid at his own feet despite the fact that she had dealt with the situation admirably.
Somehow, with the instinct he had for understanding people, he had known she would be capable of handling the reins, and that if she weren’t, she would tell him so frankly. But he still should not have put her at risk. Then, to see her turning the carriage and directing the horses to him—her usually cool demeanor transformed by the sparkle in her eye—his profound sensation of relief made way for admiration. She had been anxious to leave his company that day, and he wondered if his admiration had been too obvious. It was only after the opera that he was able to feel they had restored their budding friendship to some sort of equilibrium.
The Answorth residence was smaller than Lady Berkley’s but it did possess a ballroom that was not to be despised for a London house. He glanced around at the modest ivory columns that created alcoves and the broad space for dancing with a black-and-white patterned marble floor. Most of the assemblies had only room for an intimate number of couples, but this event could properly be declared a ball.
The dancing was already in progress, so as soon as he greeted his hosts and thanked Mrs. Answorth for the invitation, he entered the double doors and stood looking around at the guests already assembled. There was Gerry Wilmot, who he’d had dinner with since meeting him in Hyde Park. When asked how the young lady had fared after her incident with the runaway carriage, Gerry only grimaced. He had been unable to calm her hysterics and had gratefully deposited her with her guardian. Next to Gerry was Andrew Barrett, whom he had not seen in years. He walked over to him and stuck out his hand.
“You, here! When did you arrive in London?” Barrett asked him.
“A few weeks ago,” Miles answered. “And you?”
“Yesterday. I’d only been away since Christmas. Otherwise, I’m practically here year-round. That’s why it’s such an oddity to see you here at last. I’d begun to think you’d given up all society, save for what you find in Lancashire.” He said the last word with disdain, but Miles knew him well enough to know it for jest.
“He’s on the hunt for a wife,” Gerry said, too loudly for Miles’s comfort.
That was another thing they had spoken about at dinner, and Miles now had cause to regret his confidence. Mercifully, he had not said who was at the top of his list or Gerry would blurt that out too.
He glanced around to see if the statement had been overheard, and the younger Miss Milton turned her face his way showing that she, at least, had. Her eyes widened, and Miles—who didn’t think he ever blushed—felt his neck heat up.
“Thank you, Gerry,” he muttered, but his friend only laughed. His regard snagged on the elder Miss Milton, who was frowning in a corner. Why had he promised to dance with her? Oh, right. Compassion. It seemed like a heavy price now that he was forced to pay it, especially with Gerry’s ill-timed jest.
He turned back to his friends. “Have you seen Rock?”
“Not coming,” Wilmot said. “He found out about a fight in Islington, and he’s hared off to see it.”
“Shame,” Miles said. He’d been hoping to ask Rock what he thought of Lady Dorothea as soon as he could point her out. He sought her in the crowd of people and found her dancing with Lord Hastings and stood still to watch, wondering if she could be considering the man’s suit. Hastings was almost old enough to be her father. Miles frowned as his eyes sought out Lady Dorothea’s fresh complexion. They would not suit. Then again, a distinguished age was not an uncommon allure for young ladies, especially when the man was reputed to be rich and was titled.
Miles trained his eyes over to the other end of the room again. Well, he had better get it over with. He would ask Miss Bernice Milton to dance before he lost his will.
“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen. I have promised a dance.”
“Of course. There is no time to waste,” Gerry said behind him, snickering. Why had he thought this fellow was a friend?
If he weren’t so annoyed, he would find it funny. In fact, if the situations had been reversed, he would be provoking Gerry in much the same way. It was what they had always done.
