Page 22 of The Duke of Seduction
“I am. You must save me a dance.”
She must? It wasn’t as if she could refuse. Unless… Would he believe she already had enough partners? Too bad she didn’t. She prompted herself to say, “I should be delighted.”
Irritation burned across her shoulders. She strained her eyes to see Fanny arrive and join Sarah, feeling a sharp pang of jealousy. They looked in her direction, and Sarah gave a small, obscure wave. Though Lavinia couldn’t discern their precise expressions, she imagined they were empathetic.
“Do you have a favorite dance?” Lord Fielding asked.
She barely had a chance to reply, “Not particularly,” before he began a lengthy comparison of country dances and which parts were better than others. By the time they turned to go back to her mother, Lavinia found she’d increased their pace in an effort to end the promenade as quickly as possible.
They passed another couple on the path, and Lavinia realized a moment too late that the young lady was Miss Lennox. Lavinia turned her head, slowing.
“Is something the matter?” Lord Fielding asked.
“No, I was just—”
He didn’t seem to hear anything beyond “no” and continued his monologue about dances, telling her that his favorite was the minuet. Blast, she’d really wanted to speak with Miss Lennox.
At last, Lord Fielding returned her to the countess, but Lavinia was to be disappointed again because she was instantly set upon by another gentleman for another promenade. She sent a longing stare toward her friends, then squinted hard enough to see they gazed at her with something akin to pity.
Inwardly groaning, Lavinia accepted Mr. Barkby’s arm, and they followed the same path she’d just taken with Fielding. “Did I see you at the Fortescues’ last night?” he asked.
“I was there, yes.” She hadn’t seen him, but she wouldn’t say so.
“I didn’t particularly enjoy it, did you?”
“I did, actually.”
“Indeed?” He sounded quite surprised. “What did you like about it?”
“They were all very accomplished. The guitarist displayed amazing skill.”
He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I didn’t care for it. But then I prefer listening to a soprano if I must attend a musical performance.”
She turned her head toward him. “Why attend last night’s, then?”
His gaze met hers without a touch of irony. “Because that’s what one does during the Season.”
Mr. Barkby spent the remainder of their promenade telling her about his favorite sopranos. By the time they returned to her mother, Lavinia felt like a wilting flower desperate for water and sunlight and considered weeping with frustration.
Already there was another gentleman waiting to walk with her. Lavinia wanted to scream, but just then, her gaze caught Lord Northam nearby. Near enough that she could see him without straining her eyesight overmuch. She sent him a pleading look—if there was ever a time to play the role of defender, it was right now.
He seemed to understand, because he strode toward her. She exhaled with relief as her mother drew her focus to the gentleman who was already there. “Lavinia, this is Lord Devaney. Lord Devaney, allow me to present my daughter Lady Lavinia.”
He bowed as she curtsied just as Northam arrived.
“Good afternoon,” Northam said with a smile.
Devaney was a few inches shorter than Northam, who had to be an inch or two over six feet, but was perhaps five years older. Devaney’s nose was a trifle long and his lips on the thin side. He turned and greeted the marquess. “Afternoon, Northam.”
Lord Northam hesitated, and Lavinia recognized his affliction, for it was the same one she’d suffered earlier—not recalling someone’s name. “Lord Devaney, are you enjoying the park today?” Lavinia said, not because she was trying to be polite, but because she wanted to say his name so the marquess would know it.
“Afternoon, Devaney,” Northam said. His left eye, which was closer to her, sent her a quick, grateful glance.
Devaney sniffed as he directed his attention to Lavinia. “The park is quite fine today, Lady Lavinia. It will be even finer if you walk with me.”
“Actually, she already planned to walk with me—we arranged it last night at the Fortescues’.” He offered a bland smile as he edged closer to Lavinia.
Oh dear, that was a fib her mother would certainly ask about. Lavinia could hear her now, “Why did you tell me you didn’t have plans to see the marquess today when clearly you did?” Hopefully, Lavinia could believably plead forgetfulness.
