“One might say so,” Lucas admitted with a grimace. “And speaking of the devil...”
His grandparents were arriving, looking very elderly and very stately. Although there was no longer a receiving line at the door to greet late-arriving guests, a kind of hush fell on the ballroom as the majordomo announced the Duke and Duchess of Wilby, and Lord and Lady Abingdon hurried toward them to greet them and find them comfortable chairs together in a place from which they would have an unimpeded view of the dancing.
“I had better go and pay homage,” Lucas said, and strode across the floor to greet them. At almost the same moment, Lady Abingdon brought her daughter to make her curtsy to them, and Lucas found himself leading her onto the floor for the second set with almost every eye in the room upon them.
Including the critical, assessing eyes of his grandmother and grandfather.
The campaign, it seemed, had begun in earnest. The days of his freedom—of person and of choice—were numbered.
—
Jenny always had company, Philippa was glad to see each time she glanced her way. She had been a bit anxious about it, for she was the one who had more or less dared Jenny to come and enjoy herself even if she could not dance. Most of her friend’s companions were members of her family and other close acquaintances, it was true. But one had been Mr.Jamieson, the tall, dark, handsome gentleman who had solicited the first dance with her. He also smiled a great deal and gave Jenny the whole of his attention during that set. Between it and the next set her chair was flanked by two other young men until a third joined them after fetching Jenny a glass of lemonade from the refreshment room. There was a great deal of laughter from the whole group before the young men left to claim their partners for the next set.
Philippa joined her the next time there was a break in the dancing. Jenny was flushed and bright-eyed.
“You were quite right, Pippa,” she said. “I am loving the music and the spectacle of people dancing in all their evening finery. And I have certainly not been neglected. Did you see the men who were with me half an hour ago? Lady Abingdon introduced them to me as a group. I suspect they stay together between dances to give one another courage. They are recently down from Cambridge, though I would swear they have not a whole brain among the three of them. Their conversation was utterly trivial and terribly diverting. I have not laughed so hard in a long while.”
“It is indeed a wonderful evening,” Philippa said, fanning her face in a vain attempt to cool herself after the dancing. “I cannot believe so many gentlemen wish to make my acquaintance and dance with me.”
“You are very funny,” Jenny said. “You have no idea of your beautyand charm, do you? You outshine all other ladies at the ball, Pippa. By far.” But her eyes had moved beyond Philippa and she smiled warmly. “Grandmama. Grandpapa. Are you enjoying the ball?”
The Duke and Duchess of Wilby had risen from their chairs to come and greet their granddaughter. Philippa would have slipped away to give them more room, but the duchess caught her by the hand and squeezed it.
“Are weenjoyinga ball?” the duke said. “Is that not a contradiction in terms, Jenny? Areyouenjoying it? That is more to the point.”
“I am, Grandpapa,” she assured him. “Immensely.”
“Lady Philippa,” the duchess said. “Your mama will be very gratified by the impression you are making tonight. This is your debut ball, I believe?”
“In London, yes, Your Grace,” Philippa said. “Though we have quite frequent assemblies at Ravenswood and occasionally a more formal ball.”
“There must be a story behind the lateness of your debut,” the duchess said. “I would love to hear it sometime. But this year you have arrived in town with poise as well as beauty. Perhaps the delay was prearranged by some kindly fate.”
“Thank you.” Philippa was embarrassed and longed to get away. She wished her next partner would come soon to claim her for the upcoming set.
The Duke of Wilby meanwhile had turned to face the ballroom and was beckoning someone imperiously. His grandson, the Marquess of Roath, appeared at his side within moments.
“Grandpapa,” he said. “May I fetch you something? A drink, perhaps? Grandmama?”
His grandfather ignored the offer. “You have reserved a dance with Lady Philippa Ware?” he asked abruptly.
Oh.
“I have not yet had the opportunity,” Lord Roath said, not looking at her.
“You have one now,” the duke told him.
“I am afraid I have already promised every set,” Philippa said quickly, horribly embarrassed, though at least she did not have to lie. “Except for the waltzes, of course.”
The duke harrumphed.
The duchess squeezed Philippa’s hand again. “Because of that absurd rule that a young lady may not waltz in a London ballroom until she has been given the nod of approval by one of the patronesses of Almack’s?” she said. “That isveryabsurd in your case, my dear. However, I can understand that you would wish to avoid putting a foot wrong at your very first ball. Leave this to me.”
And she turned to look purposefully about the ballroom.
“Sally Jersey to your right, May,” His Grace said, addressing his duchess.
“Horrible woman,” the duchess said. “But she will do.”
