Page 5 of When the Viscount Seduces
“You’re referring to Evan?” Lazarus asked. “Or their father?” He was a Lord Commissioner of the Treasury and a highly regarded member of Parliament.
“Both of them, I suppose,” Shefford replied. “Poor Miss Price. I imagine she’ll be shuffled back to Bath. Or perhaps home to Bristol. Evan told me her Season has not been going well and that her debut at Almack’s tonight was critical to her success.”
Lazarus hated to think of the charming Miss Price having to flee London in embarrassment. Was there no place in Society for someone who wasn’t entirely coordinated? “After she spilled her drink on Eberforce, she slipped into an ungainly mess on the floor. I rushed to help her up, then I took her to dance so she could hold her head up.”
Shefford fixed his gaze on Lazarus. “That was bloody heroic of you. Careful, or you’ll be seen as a suitor.”
Lazarus shrugged. “There are worse things, and anyway, I’m not.”
“How did the dance go?” Shefford looked at him with sympathy. “She is not the most…graceful.”
“She acquitted herself quite well,” Lazarus said. “I would dance with her again, in fact.”
“Listening to you talk, I would scarcely believe you to be the scoundrel I know you are.” Josephine Harker, the daughter of the owner of the Siren’s Call who oversaw the other ladies and who was dressed in a more conservative gown, sauntered closer to their table and deposited a tankard of ale in front of Lazarus.
Lazarus gripped the tankard. “Evening, Jo. Thank you.”
“Forgive me for eavesdropping,” she said. “I try not to, but it’s deuced difficult to avoid it in here, and I do find I like hearing what you lot have to say.” She laughed, her wide mouthspreading to reveal remarkably even, white teeth. Jo fixed her gaze on Lazarus. “That was most kind of you to help Miss Price in her moment of need.”
“Do you know her?” Lazarus asked. Jo had many friends in Society even if she wasn’t actually a member herself.
Jo shook her head. “I only know what her brother has mentioned of her. I have the impression she struggles to meet Society’s expectations, which, to me, recommends her most brilliantly.”
Shefford laughed. “Because you refuse to meet them, much to your father’s chagrin.”
While Jo’s mother owned the Siren’s Call, Jo’s father was an artist and man of science who’d been taken up by certain members of Society for his intelligence and wit. As far as Lazarus knew, Jo’s parents were estranged, having chosen different paths for themselves.
Jo gave him an impassive stare. “Because Society’s rules are ridiculous. And don’t pretend you follow them either. If you did, you’d be married with an heir and a spare.”
Shefford twitched as a shadow of revulsion passed over his features. “You know me too well, Jo.”
A faint smile teased Jo’s full lips. “I’m just glad to hear you aren’t making fun of Miss Price. That would be too easy to do. Instead, you’re championing her.” She returned her gaze to Lazarus. “Perhaps she’s captured your attention. Or something.” She laughed softly before taking herself off to mingle about the room.
“Has that happened?” Shefford asked, a touch of apprehension in his tone.
“No,” Lazarus assured him. “I’ve not developed a tendre for Evan’s sister. But I do consider her one of our set—by relation—and I couldn’t stand by and watch her flounder.”
“You’re an excellent friend,” Shefford said. “But that has never been in question.” He lifted his tankard in a silent toast, and Lazarus did the same.
“Evening, gents.” Evan Price took the empty chair beside Lazarus. Lean and muscular, Evan was regarded as a sportsman. He was a superior rider, swordsman, marksman, and pugilist. His skill was almost embarrassing. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and the gold flecks in his brown eyes seemed to glitter in the lamplight. He had an intense look about him.
“Evening, Price,” Lazarus said. “Is all well?”
Angling himself toward Lazarus, Evan said, “I understand I’ve you to thank for saving my sister from complete ruin, though I daresay she’s nearly there.” He frowned briefly. “I feel quite badly for her.”
“It wasn’t as bad as all that.” At least Lazarus hoped it wasn’t, but he feared Evan was right.
“I arrived at Almack’s just after she and my mother left,” Evan said. “Upon learning they’d departed, I didn’t bother staying.”
“We must have missed each other in the crush,” Lazarus noted. “I departed a while after.”
“Unsurprising since I was overcome with people asking about my sister and warning me to stay clear of Eberforce, who was still wandering the ballroom ranting about his ruined waistcoat.” Evan scowled.
“Damn, that’s as good as any of Droxford’s scowls,” Shefford said, referring to their friend the baron, who was well known for his sober nature. However, he seemed to have lightened up a great deal since marrying more than six months earlier. It seemed marriage agreed with him most heartily.
Evan grunted. “People should have been warning Eberforce to stay clear ofme.”
Shefford sipped his ale. “Since you did not encounter him, I think you can assume that likely happened. Or that Eberforce is not as foolish as we take him to be. He can’t be stupid enough to pick a fight with you.”
