Miss Dower's Paragon (12 page)

Perhaps he was too complacent in concluding that he had little to be anxious about in presenting his suit to Miss Dower. He had assumed that because he was not a callow youth nor an octogenarian he would be one of the most likely gentlemen to catch her interest. Yet what did he know of a young lady’s preferences, and particularly of Miss Dower’s?

Certainly it did not appear that she felt any lack for his company, he thought, a shade grimly. Miss Dower had not been given a single moment off the dance floor. The instant one set ended, a new partner appeared at her side and swept her back as the music again struck up.

As he watched the activity of that evening, he became even more convinced that he had allowed his confidence to betray him into complacency. Miss Dower appeared impartially appreciative of the attentions that were paid her. He could not assume that she would not do the same with himself.

Mr. Hawkins discovered that a streak of jealousy was stirred in him whenever he witnessed Miss Dower bestow a smile upon another gentleman. Though never having experienced the emotion before, he had no difficulty in identifying it. It did take him by surprise, however. He had not thought himself capable of such a base emotion, especially in connection with the high regard that he held for Miss Dower. He knew that it was unworthy, but he could not shake himself of it.

Even more than jealousy, however, he felt a stab of unexpected fear. He feared that the gentlemen he had dismissed so perfunctorily might appear quite different in the estimation of a young lady of untouched heart.

Mr. Hawkins’s perturbed thoughts were not aided when Sir Charles came up beside him.

“The little Dower is quite the flame for the moths this evening. And with some reason,” commented Sir Charles, his dark eyes on the lady in question.

Mr. Hawkins glanced sharply at his friend. “Do not tell me that you are infatuated.”

Sir Charles smiled. He gave the slightest of shrugs. “Unlike Percy, I never fatigue myself with such all-consuming emotion. However, it cannot be denied that Miss Dower possesses an intriguing beauty. Perhaps it is worth pursuing.” He looked at Mr. Hawkins, his hooded eyes gleaming. “You do not dance, Peter?”

“I have not the desire,” said Mr. Hawkins shortly.

Sir Charles nodded. “True, it is an exertion like any other. The effort hardly outweighs the energy one must put into it. Yet, it does have worth, for the ladies, for some peculiar reason known only to themselves, set store by a gentleman’s talents in that direction. At any rate, it seems to greatly appeal to Miss Dower.”

“Miss Dower is naturally like any other young lady just out,” said Mr. Hawkins.

“It is your thought that she might eventually become jaded by the exercise? I do not agree, my friend. Miss Dower is a lively beauty not easily contained. As such, her favor must naturally fall upon a gentleman of social address and grace who can lavish these attentions upon her. This society boasts few gentlemen of our caliber, but I do not rule out the energy of these youthful sprigs, nor the enticement that wafts about a dodder’s bank account. It is not unknown for the older gentleman to possess the dashing young beauty and show a tolerant face at her subsequent indiscretions.”

“Have done with your philosophizing, Charles. It sets my teeth on edge,” said Mr. Hawkins abruptly.

Sir Charles sighed. “How extraordinary that one so unflappable as yourself can admit to excess imagination. You are excessively bad company this evening, Peter. One must in truth wonder why.” With a mocking smile, he excused himself.

Mr. Hawkins nodded. He was not at all put about at his friend’s departure. If the truth were told, he was relieved. He had not cared for Sir Charles’s observations. They had tallied uncomfortably close with his own and only served to underscore his sudden doubts about his chances with Miss Dower.

Chapter Eleven

If Mr. Hawkins could have but known it, his fears were very nearly groundless. Though Evelyn was thoroughly enjoying the admiration of several assorted gentlemen, her eyes strayed more than once after a certain tall figure.

When Evelyn had greeted Mr. Hawkins in the receiving line, she had been struck at once by how elegant he appeared. The exquisite cut of his dark evening coat had magnificently set off his broad shoulders; his stark white cravat flattered the line of his firm jaw and deepened the tan of his face; his silk waistcoat mutely testified to the expanse of his chest; and his close-fitting pantaloons emphasized the long, clean length of his limbs.

Evelyn had felt her pulse leap in response to the sheer virile masculinity that he embodied. It was a pity that Mr. Hawkins was too passive to determine upon his own bride because otherwise he was everything that she had ever dared to hope for in a gentleman.

An admiring glint in his eyes had told her that he was at least as impressed with her own appearance. She had seen when his glance lingered on the intriguing neckline of her gown before rising to her face. She had hoped that she had not betrayed her perception by too obvious a blush.

She had expected Mr. Hawkins to pay court to her at least once, if for no other reason than it was the conventional thing to do upon a lady’s come-out. She could always depend upon Mr. Hawkins to behave with perfect propriety, she thought with an inner smile. Her confidence had been further underpinned by that singular appreciation that she had seen in his eyes. Evelyn awaited him with close-held breath, wondering whether he would unbend enough to compliment her on her fine appearance. Despite other claims of her, she unobtrusively managed to keep watch for Mr. Hawkins’s approach.

However, Mr. Hawkins had not instantly sought her company. He had instead stood about talking with her friends and then had taken Maria Sparrow off on his arm. Maria Sparrow, who was still in the schoolroom! Evelyn could scarcely believe it. Why, it was a positive insult to be thought of as of less importance than a schoolroom chit. After that upsetting sight, she had not glanced again in Mr. Hawkins’s direction.

Even as she laughed and danced with several partners, she inwardly fumed over the insult that she perceived for herself. Once again, Mr. Hawkins had dealt in an awkward manner where she was concerned. What was more, he did not grant her the courtesy of letting her convey her displeasure to him.

The gentleman was positively impossible, she thought, not really certain what she desired most. The opportunity to give Mr. Hawkins the set-down that he so richly deserved would give her considerable satisfaction. But she was as strongly tempted to prove to him that she was worthy of more than his grandmother’s recommendation as a bride. She had a heart, and she had a right to be wooed. Anyone with the least intelligence could certainly see that others agreed.

As she was escorted from the floor yet again, Evelyn thanked her partner.

“The pleasure was mine, I assure you. Miss Dower,” he said, leading her toward the chair that she had scarce occupied all the evening.

Evelyn glanced up into the gentleman’s face, making a laughing rejoinder as she turned away. As she did so, she practically collided with a second gentleman. Embarrassed, a swift tide of color sweeping her face, she attempted to disentangle herself. “Oh! I do beg your pardon!”

Sir Charles steadied her with a hand under her elbow. He smiled down, his eyes lingering on the soft flush in her cheeks. He said softly, “My fault entirely. Miss Dower, I do assure you. I was in hopes of soliciting your lovely hand for this next set.”

Evelyn was acutely aware of the intensity of his dark gaze. It inexplicably unnerved her, even as on the first occasion that she had met the gentleman. “Sir Charles, I—”

“Miss Dower is fortunately my partner this set.” Viscount Waithe’s voice was cheerful as he appeared beside them. He grinned at Sir Charles in a friendly way, but with a determined glint in his eyes. “Take yourself off, sirrah.”

Sir Charles bowed. “I must yield the field.”

His glance caught Evelyn’s, entangling her in its power. Her heart missed a beat.

“This time,” he said silkily. He sauntered off.

Evelyn turned almost with relief to the viscount. At least she knew where she stood with his lordship. “My lord.”

Her expression was such that Viscount Waithe raised his brows. “What is it, Miss Dower? You appeared a little uncomfortable just now with Sir Charles.”

“I find Sir Charles somewhat... overpowering,” she admitted.

Viscount Waithe laughed as he led her onto the dance floor. “Yes, so he can be to those who are less well acquainted with him than his intimates. Sir Charles is even something of a legend in some circles.”

Evelyn was made curious. “Sir Charles a legend? How do you mean, my lord?”

“Well, as you may have readily observed. Sir Charles is what is known as an Exquisite. I do not think I have ever seen him with a hair out of place or with a crease in his coat,” said Viscount Waithe.

“But that, surely, is not the stuff of legends,” said Evelyn.

The movement of the dance separated her from the viscount and when they came together again he had obviously thought over her observation. “It is Sir Charles’s way with horses more than anything else, you see. He is a consummate whip,” he said.

“Oh well then!” said Evelyn on a laugh. “Sir Charles must definitely meet my friend, Miss Woodthorpe, for I am certain that there is nothing she admires more in a gentleman than a proper understanding of horseflesh. I shall introduce them at the first opportunity.” She smiled warmly at the viscount. “You must meet her as well, my lord, for she is quite one of my dearest friends. I know that you shall like her.”

“I will be honored,” said Viscount Waithe, smiling down at her. His thoughts had nothing to do with the pleasure of becoming acquainted with Miss Dower’s friends, however.

Standing off to one side in order to observe the country dance, Mr. Hawkins could readily interpret the expression that he glimpsed on the viscount’s amiable face. His mouth tightened momentarily, before he gave a barely perceptible shrug of resignation. He had not really expected his road to the winning of Miss Dower’s heart to be an easy one, after all. His cousin’s newfound infatuation was simply part and parcel of the whole.

If he was fortunate, and he had always thought of himself as being so, the viscount would follow his habitual pattern, and the present feverish infatuation that his lordship felt for Miss Dower would swiftly cool to friendly indifference. That would be the least complicated outcome in regard to the viscount.

Unless, of course, Miss Dower was inclined to take Viscount Waithe’s present devotion in too serious a vein.

In that instance, Mr. Hawkins thought that even at the risk of encroaching upon his friendship with his cousin, he must try to somehow turn the viscount’s thoughts elsewhere. If he did not, then his lordship’s furious flirtation would more than likely bum itself out at cost to Miss Dower’s sensitive heart. Mr. Hawkins felt that if it was in his power to do so he would shield her from such disillusionment, but at the moment he did not perceive what he could do.

“Mr. Hawkins, such a prodigious frown! I do hope that you do not find the evening disagreeable.”

Mr. Hawkins turned to find his hostess surveying him with a somewhat anxious expression. He smiled, effectively lightening his countenance. In an expression of ruefulness, he said, “Not at all, Mrs. Dower. It is only that I seem to be neatly cut out each time I detect an opportunity to pay my compliments to the lady whose evening it is. I shall confide in you, ma’am, that I have hopes of persuading Miss Dower to accept my escort in to dinner.”

Mrs. Dower smiled up at the gentleman’s twinkling eyes. “It is very bad,” she agreed. “You are, after all, quite one of our favorite acquaintances.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial fashion. “Leave it to me, Mr. Hawkins.”

The set was at that moment coming to an end. Mrs. Dower slipped her hand into Mr. Hawkins’s arm and urged him forward to intercept her daughter and the viscount as they left the floor.

“Oh, Lord Waithe! There you are. You must forgive me for not visiting with you already this evening. Pray, will you be so kind to allow me to make up for my deficiency by adjoining with me to the refreshments? I discover that I am parched with thirst,” said Mrs. Dower.

“Certainly, ma’am,” said Viscount Waithe courteously.

In almost the blink of an eye, Mrs. Dower had whisked the viscount off, leaving behind with Mr. Hawkins the laughing admonition to see that her daughter was well looked after.

“I assure you that I shall do my utmost best, ma’am,” he said on the ghost of a laugh. He was still smiling when he looked down at Miss Dower. “At last I have the opportunity that I have been awaiting all evening, to tell you how very lovely you are tonight.”

Evelyn blushed, caught by surprise at the unexpectedness of his gallantry. She wondered at his unusual forwardness as she met his intent glance. “That is a vastly pretty compliment, sir.”

“But only the first of many, if you will but consent to do me the honor of joining me for dinner,” he said.

Evelyn hesitated as the unbidden thought came to her mind that Lady Pomerancy must surely have coached him for days in just how best to approach her. But perhaps she was not giving the gentleman credit when it was due. Perhaps, she thought, he had not needed any prodding in this instance.

“You do not yet have a dinner partner, Miss Dower, I hope?”

“No, but—” At his quizzical look, Evelyn gave a small laugh. She yielded to the curiosity that had risen in her at his invitation. What lady could reject the prospect of being paid court. “Thank you, Mr. Hawkins. I would be delighted with your escort at dinner.”

With a lopsided smile, as though he had guessed the reason for her reluctance, Mr. Hawkins offered his arm to her. Accepting it, Evelyn allowed him to lead her into the dining room.

Chapter Twelve

Mrs. Dower had rejected the notion of a formal table and had instead arranged that the room adjoining the small ballroom to be set up with several seatings and a buffet supper, so that as her guests were inclined to do so they could adjoin to the impromptu dining room where they could be served in intimate groups. The result assured an air of comfortable intimacy to the large gathering and was greatly admired, as was evidenced by various comments that could be overheard.