Page 48 of Made for the Marquess (Second Sons of London 4)

Chapter Seventeen

Percy had spentmost of the evening waffling between misery and enjoyment. It had been miserable being dragged about the ballroom by Adalyn, who knew everyone present and constantly stopped in order to introduce him to people. Where the men who served under him had all appeared different to him, despite the fact they all wore the same uniform, these perfectly dressed and coiffed members of thetonall seemed to look alike.

Adalyn did a good job of introducing him to not only his fellow peers but a good number of women, some making their come-outs this Season and others who were unattached. His face got tired of plastering on a social smile, his cheeks aching. And he couldn’t seem to recall a single name once they had moved on. No one, man or woman, seemed to make much of an impression upon him.

One woman deliberately stepped into their path as they made their way about the ballroom. She was in her early forties and had a young girl with her, most likely her daughter.

“Oh, Your Graces,” the woman said, her eyes glittering. “It is so wonderful to see you. Have you met my daughter, Lady Eve? She is making her come-out this Season and would make a perfect bride.”

Percy looked at the sullen girl who stared at the ground as Adalyn said formally, “Good evening, Lady Vickers. Lady Eve. I hope you enjoy your Season.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” the older woman pressed, looking from Adalyn to Ev.

“This is Lord Kingston,” Adalyn said brusquely.

“How do you do?” Percy said, reluctant to engage them in conversation because of Adalyn’s odd behavior.

“Curtsey,” Lady Vickers commanded and her daughter dropped into a curtsey.

“If you will excuse us,” Ev said and led them away.

“Who was that?” Percy asked as they made their escape.

“Lady Vickers is the worst gossip of theton,” Adalyn shared. “She is on the hunt for the highest title she can command. Avoid her—and her daughter—like the plague, Percy. That is one family you do not wish to marry into.”

He nodded in agreement and they paused again, once more making small talk with people whose names he would never recall.

Twice, he looked about, spying Minta as she also was being introduced to other members of Polite Society. Percy longed to stay by her side. If it were up to him, he would have danced every number with her. That, however, was taboo. Adalyn had explained that dancing twice with a partner was quite enough and rarely done, while three times would be considered a terrible faux pas.

At least the dancing had been fun. He had always enjoyed movement, be it running or fencing or riding. While every dance started off awkwardly as he claimed his new partner and tried to think of something casual to say as they moved to the dance floor, the dancing itself was what he liked.

But what he looked forward to the most was waltzing with Minta.

He hated that he had not signed his name beside both waltzes but he had thought that would be too presumptuous. He noticed that she danced every time the orchestra played and supposed her entire programme had filled quickly, as he knew it would. Self-doubt began to plague him and, once again, he felt himself not good enough for her.

When the time came for them to dance, however, his confidence returned as he claimed her. Enveloping her in his arms, he moved to the beat, the count of three echoing in his head as he guided her about. He could tell she had practiced since their session together for she moved with ease. He hoped it had been her uncle who had worked with her and not Viscount Boxling.

The waltz ended far too soon but Percy would remain in her company, thanks to this being the supper dance. Adalyn had reminded him to join the rest of the Second Sons for supper and he led Minta to where they now gathered. He noticed the beautiful flush to her cheeks as he asked her what she wanted from the buffet and then set out with his friends to make up plates for the table.

“Is it as bad as you thought it would be?” Ev asked. “Or better?”

“A mixture of both. Meeting so many people at the beginning was a blur.”

“You actually said a few things. I was proud of you,” his friend praised.

“I am having trouble thinking of anything to say when I meet up with each of my dance partners. Fortunately, the dances are so lively that conversation is all but impossible during them.”

“You seemed to be very relaxed in Miss Nicholls’ company yesterday,” Owen commented. “You didn’t clam up once. I think she is the one for you.”

Percy didn’t say anything and busied himself with collecting two plates.

“The Three Cousins have certainly taken to Miss Nicholls,” Spence added. “Yesterday’s tea was delightful.”

“I thought so, as well,” he admitted. “But I fear Miss Nicholls is far out of my league.”

“What?” Spence asked, confused. “You are a marquess now, Percy. Your title and wealth speak for itself but you are a good man. Any woman, including Miss Nicholls, would be a fool if they did not see who you are.” Spence smiled encouragingly. “I do believe Miss Nicholls sees something in you. Even if you do not see it in yourself.”

Spence was right. He was a marquess, albeit an incredibly shy one. He didn’t seem to be shy around Minta, though, and he thought that a good sign. For a moment at tea yesterday, he had imagined what it would be like if she truly were his wife and they had come to call upon Owen and Louisa and enjoyed tea with all their friends.

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