Lord and Master (13 page)

Amiable
, Miss Shelby had said? No, his lordship reflected. He was mad. Quite mad.

Chapter Seven

Inside the Pelhams’ town house, there was indeed a crush of people. Lady Pelham had two marriageable daughters, Lady Rachel and Lady Stephanie. She was determined that the ball be a triumph to impress the eligible gentlemen in attendance and had, therefore, ordered the best of everything.

Lord and Lady Pelham had already joined their guests by the time Lord Ravenswood’s party arrived, so they made their way directly into the ballroom.

Daphne entered the massive room and blinked. In her two Seasons she had never seen quite the level of opulence created here.

Crystal chandeliers filled with candles sparkled a rainbow of colors overhead. Hundreds of hothouse flowers perfumed the air from pots placed around the room. Liveried footmen carried gleaming silver trays containing glasses of champagne for the guests’ pleasure. In the musician’s gallery, an orchestra began the strains of a Scotch reel.

It seemed all of the
beau monde
was in attendance. They themselves heightened the lavishness of the spectacle with their flashing jewels and rich satins and silks. Feathered heads nodded, and painted mouths whispered the latest
on dits
behind opened fans.

Upon her arrival in the ballroom with the earl, several gentlemen approached Daphne and secured dances with her. One of these admirers, a young baron named Lord Clifton, wished her to join him in the Scotch reel just beginning.

Flushed from all the unexpected attention, Daphne placed her hand on his arm and turned to Miss Shelby. “Enjoy yourself, Leonie.”

“Heavens, Daphne, all the world and his wife is here. I shall sit with the chaperons,” Miss Shelby said, indicating the rows of gilt chairs set up on one side of the ballroom.

“I shall stand at your side,” Eugene said. They walked off together, leaving Daphne with an eager Lord Clifton and a glaring Lord Ravenswood.

Lord Ravenswood did not know why he thought Miss Kendall would remain at his side once they arrived. It was a crackbrained notion and would hardly be proper. Had he lost his common sense? “A moment, please, before you whisk the lady away, Clifton. Miss Kendall, may I have the honor of the first waltz?”

“I am sorry, my lord, but it has already been claimed,” Daphne said, trying to keep the tone of her voice from revealing the extent of the regret she was feeling.

“The second, then?”

Daphne smiled up at him. “I should be pleased.”

Lord Ravenswood bowed and went to greet his hostess.

For the next hour, Daphne danced and conversed with various partners, none of whom interested her more than casually.

Breathless after a vigorous country-dance, she left the floor and stood fanning herself. She could hardly credit her ears when a low voice said, “I see nothing has changed in my absence from London, Miss Kendall. You are still a Toast.”

Daphne whirled about to face Lord Quinton. This exquisite, languid sophisticate had been one of her most ardent suitors last year during the Season.

He had claimed her for two dances at every ball and party they attended. He had invariably followed this marked attention with a call the following day, always bringing her the loveliest of flowers or the most extravagant boxes of sweetmeats.

She had not been indifferent to him and had hoped their feelings for one another might deepen and result in a proposal of marriage. Alas his attentions had abruptly cooled. She had been overwrought with anxiety when he proved to be yet another gentleman put off by what she had by then, in her own mind, dubbed her Fatal Flaw.

Staring into his familiar blue eyes, Daphne felt a sting of the pain she had endured when his attentions had ceased and his engagement and subsequent marriage to Lady Cecily had been announced. “My lord,” she said, and dropped a brief curtsy. “I never had an opportunity to congratulate you on your marriage.”

Lord Quinton gave a slight nod of his golden head. “Thank you, Miss Kendall. Lady Cecily has proven to be a satisfactory wife. My heir should make his arrival into the world this autumn.”

A sense of inadequacy swept over Daphne. She could be awaiting the birth of her first child if not for ... if not for...
If not for what?
she wondered. She must know.

She raised her chin and looked directly at Lord Quinton. “My lord, I know it is not at all the thing, but I must beg a favor. Would you tell me if there was something I did during the time we, ah, knew each other that gave you an inalterable disgust of me?”

Lord Quinton appeared discomfited for a moment at this forthright request, but gazing into Daphne’s earnest countenance, he yielded to the plea in her eyes. His voice was tender. “You do yourself a disservice, Miss Kendall. It was, er, your companion that caused me to have second thoughts about a more permanent relationship with you.”

Daphne was all at sea. “Do you mean Miss Oakswine?” At his answering nod she asked, “What did she say about me?”

“Only that you were extremely fond of one another and could not be parted. Any man that offered for you would be getting the old horror in the bargain. The woman made sure this fact was quite clear and well-known among the gentlemen of the
ton
.”

Daphne could only gape at him, her eyes nearly starting from her head.

Lord Quinton reached out a gloved hand to chuck her under the chin. “Goose. What could you have done to put off any gentleman? The very idea is ludicrous.”

Shock was giving way to indignation. Daphne’s eyes flashed. “I never once discussed with Miss Oakswine her remaining with me should I marry. Indeed, I cannot think that under any circumstances I led her to believe such a farrago of nonsense.”

Lord Quinton looked grave. “Lud, you have been the victim of duplicity, my dear. Heard the old frump had been laid in the dust recently, but one cannot too much deplore such a loss. We all thought the Odious Oakswine—that is what fellows called her—probably had another ten years left on her plate to bedevil us all. More than any man could take, don’t you know? Gentlemen will be beating a path to your door now that Odious Oakswine is gone.”

It was true. Never had her popularity been greater. Daphne stiffened her spine. She felt some of her long-dead confidence in herself return. “Well, I did not know, but I am more grateful than I can say for this enlightening conversation, my lord.”

“Obliged enough to favor an old acquaintance with a dance?”

They smiled at each other, much in charity. Daphne nodded her agreement and placed her hand on his arm. Lord Quinton flirted outrageously while gracefully leading her through the steps of the dance.

Daphne felt lighthearted. The world seemed a friendlier place. Naturally any gentleman would have been daunted by the prospect of living with Miss Oakswine, she reflected, while holding up her end of the conversation and chuckling over Lord Quinton’s witty remarks about some of the assembled guests.

Although if a gentleman truly loved her, she mused, would he allow such an obstacle to come between them? Daphne eyed her fair-haired partner and deliberated whether Lord Quinton had loved her, or was, in fact, capable of strong emotions.

She recalled his comment about his wife.
Lady Cecily has proven to be a satisfactory wife.
No, this was not the sort of marriage her parents had enjoyed and not what she envisioned for herself. She found it in her heart to be a tiny bit sorry for Lord Quinton.

Perhaps it had worked out for the best that Miss Oakswine’s trumped-up story had driven him away along with the others.

Perhaps, as Leonie would say, fate had played a hand in the matter, and the stars had another plan for her.

Her gaze sought Lord Ravenswood. He was standing alone, watching the dancing. At precisely that moment, his lordship happened to glance her way, and their eyes met. Daphne felt heat flood her cheeks, and she quickly turned back to Lord Quinton. “Will you be in Town long?”

Lord Quinton observed the exchange between Miss Kendall and Lord Ravenswood with a knowing eye, but kept his comments to pleasantries.

At the other side of the room, Lord Ravenswood just managed to restrain the scowl that threatened to darken his face. Devil take it! The minx was flirting with Quinton. George always was a bit of a rattle. Their friendship went back to Eton days. He had heard marriage to Lady Cecily had settled him, but from the way George was ogling the bodice of Miss Kendall’s dress, Anthony could only surmise the leopard had not changed its spots.

The dance ended, and Anthony was toying with the idea of taking himself off to the card room until his promised dance with Miss Kendall, no other lady having caught his interest, when Mrs. Blenkinsop and Elfleta wormed their way into his path.

“My lord,” Mrs. Blenkinsopp cried with the air of one relieved to see a savior. “This ball is a positive crush. My Elf is dying for some lemonade. Champagne is not for one of her delicate constitution.”

Eyes cast down, Elfleta dropped a curtsy and murmured a greeting. She wore a shiny satin gown that’s very brightness seemed to drain what little color Elfleta had.

Anthony bowed to the ladies. “I should consider it an honor to procure a glass of lemonade for Miss Blenkinsopp.”

Mrs. Blenkinsop’s lips spread in a wide grin. “I knew I could rely upon you, my lord,” she gushed, and instantly disappeared into the crowd.

Anthony held out his arm to Elfleta and led her away into the adjoining refreshment room. Here a long table had been set up with an assortment of fruits, cheeses, and nuts along with punches and lemonade. A full supper would be served around midnight, but many of the guests were partaking of a little food now to lessen the effects of all the champagne they consumed.

Anthony handed Elfleta a glass of lemonade. “Are you enjoying the ball, Miss Blenkinsop?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Do you prefer the gaiety of Town life with its parties and soirees to the country?”

Elfleta knew all about his lordship’s love for his country estate. Mrs. Blenkinsop had made it her business to find out everything she could about Lord Ravenswood and had then drilled the information into her daughter’s head. Even though Elfleta thought she would die of boredom inside of a week in the country, all her interests being confined to the fashions and the fashionable, she replied, “I adore the country.”

Anthony promptly began a long monologue—it turned out to be that way because Elfleta had not the knowledge nor the inclination to ask questions and partake of the conversation in depth—regarding Raven’s Hall.

Elfleta confined herself to a look of fascination, long practiced in her mirror, at Lord Ravenswood’s words. An expression of absorption when a gentleman spoke was guaranteed to impress him, her mama had often told her.

The ploy apparently succeeded as Lord Ravenswood eventually led her from the refreshment room and into the dance, feeling again the satisfaction of having singled out a very possible candidate for his countess.

Oddly enough, though, Anthony reflected, he felt no real need to keep Miss Blenkinsop at his side and gladly turned her over to her next partner, an aging dandy with a protruding stomach.

He stood watching the two dance with none of the unpleasant sensations coursing through him he had experienced when watching Miss Kendall with another partner.

“Anthony! I have not seen you this age. Heard you had buried yourself in some tomb in Egypt.”

Anthony turned to see Lord Quinton at his side. He held out his hand. “George. Good to see you. And I was not burying myself in Egyptian tombs but digging myself out of my father’s debts.”

“You were successful, I am sure. Always managed to obtain anything you set your mind to,” Lord Quinton said amiably.

“I did well enough. But who would have thought, George, that I would be standing here today congratulating you on an excellent match? Thought you would avoid the parson’s mousetrap as long as possible. Not that I can blame you for snapping up a suitable bride like Lady Cecily,”

Lord Quinton’s face took on an expression of boredom. “Yes. Very proper Cecily is. Handsomely dowered, good bloodlines, already breeding. I expect to hold my heir cradled in my arms by the time the leaves turn color.”

Lord Ravenswood smiled on his childhood friend. “You must be the happiest of men, George.”

A shadow crossed Lord Quinton’s face. “Cecily is all that is pliant and agreeable. ’Tis one of the reasons I married her But, depend upon it, Anthony, a man needs a woman with vitality and a certain zest for living.”

Anthony noticed his friend’s gaze was following Miss Kendall as she danced with Sir Tredair. If he was not seriously mistaken, George’s face was pained with regret.

He had heard George’s Cecily was a bit wooden and found himself at a loss for words.

Lord Quinton suddenly clasped his friend by the shoulder and looked directly into his eyes. “Rumor has it you are often with Miss Blenkinsop. Do not make the same mistake as I, Anthony.” He dropped his hand. His expression became bland once more, and he walked away before Anthony could respond.

The dance ended, and the musicians began the strains of a waltz. It was the second of the evening, and therefore the dance was promised to Miss Kendall.

He located her promenading about the room with Sir Tredair and bowed low before her.

“Tredair, I fear I must take the lady from you. She is promised to me for the waltz.”

“You wrest this enchanting goddess from me above my protest, Ravenswood,” Sir Tredair grumbled good-naturedly. “Miss Kendall, you must allow me the next country-dance, else I shall die of a broken heart on the spot.”

“Good heavens,” Daphne declared lightly, although her color heightened. “I suppose I must agree. Sir Tredair, if only to prevent a scandal for Lady Pelham.”

Anthony barely noticed the peer move away. His gaze was focused on Miss Kendall. He felt a particular excitement every time he saw her face that he had never experienced with any other lady.

The feeling discomforted him. He judged it perilous and did not wish for it to continue. Despite his friend’s warning, Anthony held firm in his conviction that beautiful and intelligent women were nothing but trouble. His stepmother, Isabella, had taught him this lesson, and he had learned it well.