Page 99 of Doxy for the Ton
“Mimi?” Alexander said. “Are you well? Is something amiss?”
She shook her head.
He squeezed her hand. “It’s Lady Radham’s turn to sing. Here, allow me.”
Taking her elbow, he helped Mimi to stand. Lady Radham nodded her thanks and slipped along the row of guests, who each stood to make room, until she reached the end, then she made her way toward the pianoforte.
Only after Lady Radham had started to sing did Mimi summon the courage to glance across the room once more. But Earl Mayhew was absorbed in a discussion with his companion, and he did not look in her direction again.
I must be much changed.
Yes—shehadchanged. The naïve young girl who’d believed in honor had been destroyed five years ago, her joy replaced by sorrow, her faith by cynicism, and her capacity to love…
Mimi glanced down at Alexander’s hand, which held hers. Though he was absorbed in the music and Lady Radham’s exquisite voice, he caressed her hand with his fingertips absent-mindedly, as if it came naturally to him. She had long since learned that grand gestures and professions of love were more to satisfy the proclaimer’s vanity than a true expression of feeling. But the small gestures—asking the hostess to change the recital to include Mimi’s favorite composer, a delicate touch of the hand…
They were the true declarations of love.
Stop being such a fool!
He didn’t love her. Hecouldn’t.
A man in his position could never feel anything more for a doxy than physical attraction. But while she sat next to him at a Society concert, almost as if she belonged there, she could indulge in the dream for a little while.
When Lady Radham’s song concluded, the room erupted with applause. Their hostess announced the interval and directed the guests to a buffet in the adjoining room, and footmen appeared with trays of champagne.
“Shall I fetch you something to eat?” Alexander asked. Mimi nodded. “Come, Whitcombe,” he said. “Duty calls.”
“It’s a pleasure, not a duty, to serve my wife,” Whitcombe said. He exchanged a glance with Eleanor, and Mimi’s heart ached at the love in their eyes. “Eleanor, my love, you stay here with Lady Rex.”
Eleanor nodded, and the men left, picking their way through the crowd. The noise and chatter increased, and laughter filled the air. Eleanor seemed to shrink under the weight of the clamor of voices, and she closed her eyes and began to pick at her sleeve and toy with the bracelet about her wrist.
“Eleanor, are you well?” Mimi asked.
The duchess opened her eyes and shook her head. “I-I cannot hear you. The noise…”
“You’re not fond of crowds, are you?” Mimi said.
“I’ll be all right.”
A group of young men walked past, roaring with laughter, and Eleanor flinched. She hid her distress well, but the advantage of Mimi’s profession was that she had learned to understand people. Eleanor’s distress was evident with careful observation—the slight shake of her hand as she continued to twirl her bracelet, the measured rhythm of her breathing, which suggested a deliberate attempt to control her apprehension, and the spark of longing in her eyes as she glanced toward the doors.
Mimi rose, fanning herself.
“Oh dear,” she said, “I’ve come over a little hot. Duchess, would you mind helping me outside? I’m in need of fresh air.”
Eleanor blinked and lifted her gaze to Mimi, who offered her elbow.
“Forgive me for making such an imposition, but I’d be most grateful.”
Eleanor stared at Mimi’s arm for a moment, then she stood and took it. Mimi steered them along the row and toward the doors at the rear of the room, while Eleanor clung to her.
“I dislike crowds myself,” she said brightly as they passed the young men. “I’m of the opinion that if one has nothing sensible to say, then it’s best to remain silent—in which case, most of the guests here would be required to say nothing for the rest of the evening.”
Eleanor giggled, then let out a cry as they collided with a young woman, and Mimi suppressed a curse. Of all the women to encounter, it had to be Sarah Francis.
“Oh! Forgive me, Miss Francis,” Eleanor said.
Sarah arched an eyebrow and stared at Eleanor.
