Page 75 of Doxy for the Ton
“Lady Rex, how delightful!” she said. “I’d almost given up on your coming.”
Mimi dipped into a curtsey. “Lady Walton—Countess—forgive me for being late.”
“Only fashionably so,” came the reply. “You’ve arrived at precisely the right time, for the first dance is about to begin, and I would very much like you to lead it—if I’m not being too forward.”
Mimi glanced about, apprehension in her eyes. Then Walton appeared at his wife’s side and extended his hand.
“Lady Rex, would you do me the honor of partnering me for the first dance?”
Alexander stared at their host. For what purpose was he honoring Mimi—a woman he barely knew other than by association to Alexander himself, a man whom he detested?
But rather than show surprise, or discomfort, Mimi took the earl’s hand and nodded.
“Perhaps you’d care to name the first dance,” he said.
Shit. Would she betray herself—her ignorance of Society parties and dances?
But, after a slight hesitation, she nodded. “Captain Cook?”
“Excellent choice,” Lady Walton said, and she glided across the room toward the lead musician, who nodded and began tuning his violin. Then Lord Walton led Mimi to the top end of the dance floor and the melee of guests shifted into focus to form a line that stretched toward the opposite end.
As Lady Walton returned, Colonel Reid approached her, but she shook her head and placed a protective hand over her belly.
“My dancing days are done, I’m afraid, colonel,” she said. He nodded and moved toward two ladies standing nearby. Shortly after, he escorted one onto the dance floor, joining the end of the line. Alexander caught Lady Portia Hawke watching them, arm in arm with her brother, Foxton. She whispered in his ear and Foxton shook his head. He released her arm then strode across the floor, while she frowned and sat, waving away a footman who approached with a tray of champagne glasses.
The dance began and Mimi moved, forming a figure-eight pattern with her partner as they circled the couple next in line. Then she took his hand as they glided along the line in time to the music.
How the devil had she learned how to dance?
“Perhaps you might ask Lady Portia to dance,” a female voice said, and Alexander turned to see Lady Walton staring at him. “She’s in want of a partner, now her brother’s abandoned her. And it’s the height of bad manners for a man to remain standing at a ball when there are ladies without partners.”
He let out a laugh. “What—and be refused?”
“I daresay Lady Rex wouldn’t refuse you,” she said, as Mimi moved along the line of dancers with the fluidity and grace that was, most likely, the envy of every female in the room. “And,” Lady Walton added, “given that every man is now looking at my husband with envious eyes, your association with her might render you a little more desirable among the company.”
“Is that why you asked her to lead the dance? To makemea little more desirable among the company?”
She wrinkled her nose. “You always were the most insufferably arrogant man,” she said. “I cannot think why Lady Rex associates herself with you.”
“Perhaps because she, unlike the rest of Society, judges me on my current behavior, rather than past sins that I have striven—and failed—to atone for.”
“For that alone, she deserves to be honored,” came the reply. “She must possess a degree of compassion the rest of us lack.”
“You’re very kind, Lady Walton.”
“Not at all.” She smiled. “Lady Rex dances well. Remarkably well—I’m afraid my husband is unfamiliar with this particular dance.”
“How can you tell?”
“See there?” She gestured toward the leading couple. “Peregrine took a wrong turn, but Lady Rex steered him on the right path—almost as if she anticipated his move. I wonder what other accomplishments she has. Do you know?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Does she sing, or play the pianoforte? She might entertain us at supper.”
Alexander shook his head. “I’ve no idea.”
“I thought you were a family friend.”
