Karen Harbaugh (13 page)

“Oh, stop it!” I exclaimed. “You know full well that any future connection between us is all in Mama’s head, so I wasn’t piqued at all. I was—was merely relieved that you
were
play-acting and not serious.”

He still smiled, but an intent look grew in his eyes as he gazed at me. I looked away. He said lightly, “I see you aren’t in the way of things yet. Not the sort of thing you should say to a gentleman when he douses you with flowery compliments. A little flirting, a little modest disclaiming, is the answer to it all, you see.”

“I don’t see how—I don’t want to lead anyone to think—” I broke off in confusion.

“Not going to, if you do the thing correctly,” he replied.

“But flirting—! The schoolmistresses at Miss Angstead’s discourage it, you know.”

He rolled his eyes. “Schoolmistresses! That’s all very well if you are at school! No use for it there. I suppose I should really have said judicious flirting,” he reflected as I gazed at him through my lashes. “Don’t want to be thought fast, but you don’t want to look as if you’re going to be giving every man who admires you a rude set-down, either.”

“It doesn’t sound any different from walking the tightrope at Astley’s Amphitheatre,” I grumbled.

“It’s easier than that—promise!” The music ended, and Lucas led me from the floor. He stopped by the sideboard to give me a glass of lemonade, then led me to a seat. “Thing is, you need to know how to deal with compliments— and set-downs, too. Tell me, what would you do if some young buck came up and said your eyes struck him to the heart with Cupid’s arrow, and that he came back for you to pluck it out?”

“I’d tell him not to be so silly,” I said testily.

Lucas shook his head. “If you liked the fellow, you might just give him the impression you didn’t, especially in that tone of voice.” He gave me a keen glance. “You might have lost the opportunity to make a friend.”

I considered this. I conceded it would be agreeable to have more friends like Lucas and Samantha, and to turn away someone like them would be a sorry thing indeed. “Well then, what should I say?”

Lucas thought about this for a moment and absently sipped the lemonade from his glass. He immediately held it away from him and made a face. “Good God, why in the world did you let me drink this stuff?”

“I didn’t!” I retorted. “You picked up a glass for yourself when you gave me one. It’s lemonade,” I added helpfully.

“Dashed well know what it is!” he said. “Can’t stand the stuff.”

“You’re the one who picked it up,” I said reasonably. “I did not know you hated it or I would have said something. Why did you?”

“Too busy talking with you, that’s why!”

I fluttered my lashes at him. “Oh, Lord Ashcombe! I never thought my presence would distract you from your surroundings! If I had known, I assure you I would have put more of a distance between us!” I lowered my head modestly and peeked up through my lashes at him, daring him to laugh.

“So you
can
flirt!” he said wryly.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You mean fluttering my eyelashes and all that sort of thing? Why, I was only funning!”

He grinned. “You would be,” he said. “But it’s what I meant about dealing with compliments in the right way. If you want to encourage a fellow’s attentions, you do just what you did just now. He might come up with another compliment. I’m not sure how to turn off one, though.” He considered this problem. “Samantha might be able to tell you how. She’s had a few admirers already,” he said proudly.

I could see that this must be true. Her fashionable loveliness was sure to win suitors, and her manners were neither too forward nor too aloof. “I suppose I should ask Samantha, then, for she seems to know how to get on very well,” I commented, watching her chattering merrily to a tall young blond man by the pianoforte.
“Then
I shall really know how to get on in the world.”

Lucas held up a hand. “Not even then, I’m afraid.”

“There is more?” I exclaimed.

“Afraid so. All sorts of pitfalls for the unwary,” he replied knowledgeably. “Fortune hunters, rakes, et cetera.”

“Well, I won’t have to worry about fortune hunters, as I only have a respectable portion. So I suppose I shall have to watch out for rakes. Why are they so objectionable?”

“Seducers,” he replied, casting me a dark glance. “Trifling with a lady’s affections without meaning anything serious.”

I thought about this. “But Lucas, you said Sir Jeremy was a rake, and
he
has serious intentions toward Mama. And he is a very good sort of gentleman, too,” I concluded loyally. “Indeed, if all rakes are like Sir Jeremy, I shouldn’t mind marrying one myself.”

Lucas turned red about the ears. “I never said Sir Jeremy was a rake!” he protested.

“You certainly did! It was when you were in love with Mama and found she had gone out with him in his curricle!”

“Ah, well, caught up in the passion of the moment,” he said, having the grace to blush. “No doubt I said any assortment of wild things I shouldn’t have. Infatuated with your mother, you see.”

“Yes, I know.” I sighed. “Most men react that way when they see her. They can’t help it, for she
is
beautiful.”

He patted my hand. “You needn’t worry. You’re apt to rival her yourself by the time you’re ready for your come-out,” he said kindly. “In fact, you already—”

“Lucas, old boy! Can’t keep all the ladies for yourself, you know!” cried a cheerful voice behind me. Lucas scowled briefly, and I turned to see a stocky young man as fair as Lucas was dark. “Give over now, cousin!” He grinned.

Lucas rose and introduced us—grudgingly, I thought. I looked at Sir Daniel Bassett and smiled.

I liked him immediately, for he had an open, jovial countenance, well tanned by the sun, and his blue-grey eyes were guileless. His eyes flickered over me in an appreciative way, and his expression seemed to grow warmer. I did not become alarmed as I had when Lucas did this, for I had come to the conclusion that perhaps this was the usual way that gentlemen behaved toward ladies at parties. An ethereal-looking blond girl sat herself down at the pianoforte and drew forth a tinkling melody. Sir Daniel seemed to prick up his ears at this and, after casting a mischievous look at Lucas, said: “How opportune! Miss Canning, if you would honor me with a dance?”

I glanced at Lucas and saw he looked a bit disgruntled. I would have liked continue our conversation but reflected that it would look quite particular if I refused Sir Daniel to sit with Lucas instead. Further, it would be quite impolite to Sir Daniel. I smiled at Lucas reassuringly and extended my hand to his cousin. “I would be delighted, sir.” He threw a triumphant glance at Lucas, and we started on the steps of the dance.

I had a delightful, if energetic dance with Sir Daniel, and from him I passed to sundry other gentlemen. Occasionally, if I knew the steps of a dance fairly well, I would glance around to see how Samantha and her brother were doing. Samantha was usually surrounded by at least three or four young men, and at times I would see her cheeks flushing peach pink with enthusiasm or her eyes lighting in a smile. I would like to say that Lucas, too, was as animated, but when I caught sight of him, he had a bored look on his face despite the fact that the ethereal blonde had gravitated toward him after her musical performance and was casting languishing glances at him. I saw him dancing with her, and I think he danced a few times with some other very eager girls, but I did not notice all that much, as I was watching my feet and attempting to practice my flirting skills.

The evening passed more quickly than I thought it would at its outset. My shyness had fallen from me as I grew more comfortable with the friendly faces in Samantha’s party—so different from what I had imagined it would be;

indeed, a whole world away from Miss Angstead’s Seminary. It was a puzzle to me how I could be treated one way at Miss Angstead’s and a totally different way at the Ashcombes’. I didn’t think on this long, however. Soon the guests were leaving, mostly in pairs, and the room grew more and more empty. I glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, exclaimed at the lateness, and hastily went to take my leave of Lady Ashcombe.

“I am grateful you invited me,” I said, curtsying to my hostess. “I’ve had such a delightful time. I don’t know how to thank you!”

“Tish, child!” She waved her hand at my effusiveness. “We were most happy to have you. This is but a small affair for Samantha, nothing to be excited over. There shall be more, I assure you!”

I put my cloak on at the door, chatting all the while with Samantha. The footman opened the door, and to my dismay, I was greeted by a gust of rainy wind. I forgot that I had sent the carriage back with Betty and would have to wait until a message could be sent home to fetch me back. I did not look forward to the ride back, either; the carriage I came in had been a drafty thing. I hesitated. Perhaps I could ask for an umbrella and servant and then walk—it would take an hour and a half just to send home for the carriage, have it hitched and at the Ashcombes’ door. By that time I would be at home if I walked. I turned to Samantha and asked for an umbrella and a footman or maid.

“But Georgia!” cried Samantha. “Surely you are not going out in that!”

I turned and smiled at her. “I don’t know how else I am going to go home unless I step past this threshold.”

“But it’s raining dreadfully, and an umbrella would be almost useless! But wait! I shall order our own carriage.” She left before I could protest.

Obediently I waited. The Ashcombes’ coachmen were quick; I could hear their carriage draw up before twenty minutes passed. I wondered if a servant would fetch me out, but then Samantha came back with an umbrella and Lucas in tow. “Here, now!” she exclaimed. “Lucas shall escort you home and carry the umbrella for you.”

“Really, Samantha!” I said hastily, “I shall do just fine with the umbrella. Lucas need not escort me at all.”

“Not a problem, truly!” asserted Lucas, looking a little harassed nevertheless.

“Yes, and besides, your maid has gone, and you must have someone accompany you,” added his sister. She looked at me earnestly. “We would not be doing our duty as hosts and would be quite put out if we didn’t have you escorted home. It would be a terribly long time before your own carriage arrived here, and ours is already at the door—and you mustn’t worry, for it is closed and will keep the weather out.”

I had not thought of this, that weather and darkness would make a difference or that I would cause an inconvenience to my hosts by refusing, so I bowed to Samantha’s superior knowledge of such things. I did not want to offend their sense of hospitality. I nodded then and took Lucas’s offered arm. I turned one more time to wave goodbye to Samantha, and it seemed I surprised a smug look on her face before she smiled and waved back; there was no trace of it as we moved toward the carriage, however, so I dismissed it from my mind.

As we stepped out, Lucas let out an inarticulate noise that sounded suspiciously like an oath. “Samantha
would
order the wrong one! At least most of the repairs have been made on it. Well, it’s too late to change, and I suppose we shall have to make do. Fortunately, it’s in working condition.”

I looked up to see that though the carriage was indeed closed, it was a small coach, and we would have to sit side by side in it. I cast a surreptitious look at Lucas. He looked quite put out.

“I do not mind it, Lucas, if you do not,” I said hesitantly. I felt a little uncomfortable, but then, I did not know what to think of this new unease I had with him. It was the newness of the social experience, I told myself, and felt comforted. Lucas had been like a brother to me. Why should I feel uncomfortable?

Lucas looked down at me and smiled. “I don’t,” he said.

It was dim within, but the carriage lamps lighted it enough so that we could still see each other. I sighed happily as I sat down on the carriage seat. “Oh, Lucas, this party must be the best thing that has ever happened to me! I have never had such fun in all my life, I am sure! It was so kind in Samantha and your mother to invite me! Everyone I met seemed so agreeable, and everything so beautiful, too!”

Lucas shrugged. “It’s all right, if you like such halfling affairs.”

“I refuse to think it a bore, however unfashionable it may be! I liked it.” I cast him a mischievous look. “Besides, I would hardly call Sir Daniel a halfling. He was very kind to me.”

“You mean he flirted outrageously with you!” he retorted.

“But did you not say I ought to practice flirting, just to get in the way of things?”

“You were doing quite well by yourself, I think.”

I wrinkled my brow. “But how can I do well by myself? I don’t see how I could flirt alone.”

“Oh, you know what I mean!” he said, then caught my eye. I grinned at him, and he returned it reluctantly. “Oh, I suppose Samantha’s party wasn’t so poor.” He was silent for a while, then said proudly: “Samantha did very well, too, I think;

not too bad looking, if I may say so.”

“Oh, yes!” I exclaimed. “I was so flattered that Lady Ashcombe decided to copy my drawing of your sister’s hair.” I sighed. “Samantha is very beautiful.”

“So are you,” said Lucas.

I blushed lightly and laughed. “I thought you said that I only looked ‘quite the thing.’“

“Nothing of the kind.”

“What!” I sat up straight. “After Samantha came in, you said—”

“Oh, well, ‘after Samantha came in’!” he said as if that event made all utterances thereafter null and void. “You must remember
before
she came in, I greeted you like this.” He took my hand and kissed it, grinning. “Then I said, ‘You look quite— quite grown-up.’“ He drew closer, and I think I drew in my breath as he continued. “‘Quite the lady! Very—’“ He stopped, his grin fading, and stared into my eyes so long, I finally looked down into my lap. I felt a finger under my chin and was compelled to lift my eyes again to his; suddenly his face was closer than ever. “Lovely,” he breathed, and I felt his lips on mine.

His mouth was as soft and light as butterfly’s wings but grew more firm as I sat still, so very still. There was a strange tingly dizziness that flowed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes—rather like a muted and continuous version of the shock one gets after rubbing one’s feet on a carpet. It seemed all I could do was close my eyes to keep the dizziness at bay.