Page 52 of Lord of Temptation
It had been ages since Anne had been to a ball and her arrival was causing quite the stir. She did wish that she hadn’t waited so long to return to Society. An awkwardness hovered about as people approached her. Should they mention Walter? Should they not? Should they offer condolences? Should they carry on as though nothing were amiss?
Gentlemen didn’t seem to know if they should ask her for a dance. How did one treat a lady who had the baggage of a widow, but wasn’t a widow?
The only one who seemed at all comfortable with her was Chetwyn, as he expertly glided her over the dance floor.
“My brother would be pleased to see you smiling again,” he said.
It was strange, but she saw little of Walter in him. His blond hair seemed more easily tamed. Not a single freckle dared to mar his skin, where Walter had always been cursed with an abundance that had only served to make him more endearing. Chetwyn’s smile was more stately and sedate. Walter’s had always been filled with fun and mischief. But what really surprised her was that she could think of Walter now without hurting, or feeling guilty, or longing for what could never be. She had been correct that she needed her sojourn. She was ready now to face whatever the future held.
“I’m frightfully behind on the gossip I fear,” she said, smiling warmly, striving to carry the conversation away from the past and their shared loss.
Chetwyn rolled his eyes. “With your brothers—the worst gossips in all of England—about? I rather doubt that.”
She laughed. It felt good to laugh beneath flickering chandeliers while an orchestra wooed the dancers with gentle strains of harmony.
“I should like to see Jameson married this Season,” she said.
“He should like to see the same of you.”
She couldn’t miss the speculation and interest in Chetwyn’s eyes. It wasn’t that he was an awful fellow, but he didn’t make her heart speed up or her body yearn for nearness. But then she suspected few men would have that influence over her.
“I was going to ask if you knew of any prospects with whom I might entice my brother into walking down the aisle,” she said, hoping to direct them off a path she wasn’t ready to travel. Her own possibility of marriage was far from her thoughts. Tonight she simply had to survive her reentry into Society.
“Perhaps I could come to call later this week and provide a list at that time,” he suggested.
Oh, she’d been too long out of the flirtation game, felt as though she’d maneuvered herself into a trap. “Do you not worry that your brother would always be between us?”
“No. He and I were very different. I daresay, my mother often quipped that if she wasn’t present at the birthing, she’d have not believed we were brothers.”
She felt the heat suffuse her face. Not exactly a proper topic, and she wondered briefly if he was slightly nervous about being in her company. It couldn’t be easy to be with a woman who had a past with his brother. “Well, then, I suppose a call later this week would be lovely.”
The music wafted into silence and without another word he escorted her to her aunt, her father’s sister, who was serving as her chaperone this evening. In spite of Sarah’s offer to take on that role, her father thought she needed a more seasoned lady. Especially as he wasn’t here, but had elected to spend the evening at his club.
“He is such a handsome devil,” her aunt Penelope said after the marquess had wandered away.
“Yes, he is.”
“I’ve heard he’s set his cap on you.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“You could do far worse, my girl.”
“That is a ringing endorsement.”
All the wrinkles in her aunt’s face shifted around until she looked rather like a dried prune. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“It just seems that one should set one’s standards a bit higher than simply not going with the worst.”
“You’re close to being on the shelf. You can’t be particularly picky. You had your love, which is more than most women have. Now you must settle in and do your duty.”
“Is one allowed love only once?”
“I daresay, if at all, once is all that one can hope for.”
“That’s a rather sad state of affairs for women, isn’t it?”
“It is the way of it, m’dear. I’m a bit parched. Perhaps you’d like to come with me to the refreshment room.”
