Almack’s was where Philippa had been introduced to Lord Edward Denton, one of her favorites, though she was not at all sure he was in search of a wife. It was where she had met several other ladies in her own age range who had since become close acquaintances. It was where she had met several other young men who danced with her regularly at balls, conversed with her at parties, and drove her in the park.
Tonight she was greatly looking forward to going again. Her mother was going to the opera with Uncle Charles and AuntMarian, Aunt Eloise and Uncle Vincent. Ben was going to stay at home with Stephanie. They would play with Joy and read her stories before putting her to bed. But Gwyneth and Devlin and Nicholas were coming to Almack’s with her. And Jenny was going to be there with Lady Catherine Emmett—and perhaps the Marquess of Roath?
She tried to tell herself that she hoped not. She had felt herself weakening at the garden party. Since hearing his story, she understood why he had said what he had in Sid Johnson’s barn after he learned her identity. It had still been a horrid thing to say and certainly not easy to excuse. But... Well, had it really been an unforgivable sin? Even after more than four years? Despite all the havoc his words had wreaked in her life?
They could not possibly have a close relationship, however. That incident would always hang like a cloud between them. And there would always be the awareness that her father and his mother had dishonored their marriage vows with each other and conceived a child. It would always be a dark secret neither of them could share with their families.
He was the first person she saw at Almack’s as she followed Gwyneth and Devlin into the assembly rooms on Nicholas’s arm. He was standing at the opposite side of the room beside Jenny’s chair. It was Jenny’s waving arm that had drawn Philippa’s attention their way.
“Lady in green across the room in a wheeled chair,” Nicholas said. “The friend you have spoken of, Pippa? It seems to be you at whom she is waving.”
“Yes,” Philippa said. “Come.” And fortunately he came with her, a sort of bulwark against the effect of having to come face-to-face with the marquess so early in the evening.
“Jenny.” Philippa leaned over her friend to hug her. She waswearing a shimmering gown in a shade of pale moss green. It complemented her hair, which was dressed smoothly at the front and in a cascade of curls at the back. “I am so glad you really did come. May I present my brother Major Nicholas Ware? Lady Jennifer Arden, Nick. And the Marquess of Roath, her brother.”
Nicholas bowed to Jenny and shook hands with the marquess. There was a brief exchange of pleasantries before one of the patronesses came to take Nicholas off to introduce to a young lady she described as the eldest daughter of a retired colonel. She looked inquiringly from Philippa to the Marquess of Roath.
“Yes,” the marquess said. “I am about to ask Lady Philippa for the opening set.”
Well, Philippa thought as she watched her brother walk away, his slight limp hardly noticeable, his most charming smile directed ahead to the colonel’s daughter.Well!
“You must be very happy to have Major Ware with you, even if it is for but a short while,” Jenny said.
“Yes, we all are,” Philippa said. “I just wish he did not have to go back.”
“It will be soon?” Jenny asked.
“Yes.” Philippa nodded. “Within the week, I am almost certain.”
“I daresay he is eager to be back with his men,” the Marquess of Roath said.
“He is,” she said. “He would never forgive himself if the battle was fought while he was still away.”
Jenny was smiling at Sir Gerald Emmett and two other young men who were approaching.
“Willyou dance the opening set with me?” the marquess asked Philippa.
“I will,” she said. What choice did she have? “Thank you.”
The three men were chatting with Jenny—all at once, itseemed—until one of them asked her if he might sit with her during the first set since he was wearing new dancing shoes and feared he might already have blisters on his toes.
“Not to mention my heels,” he added.
“And not to mention the fact that he has two left feet when hedoesdance, Lady Jenny,” one of the other men said.
Lines were forming for the opening set of dances, and the marquess led Philippa onto the floor to join the ladies before he stepped back into the line of men facing them. Nicholas and his partner were a little farther along, Philippa could see, and Devlin and Gwyneth were just beyond them. She was going to enjoy the evening, she told herself. The Marquess of Roath was a good dancer, after all, and why should she not enjoy dancing with him? She smiled at him and he raised his eyebrows. Were his eyes smiling? She thought they might be.
The orchestra played a chord, and the dancing began.
—
The Duke and Duchess of Wilby were not late arriving. They came just before the opening set finished and were shown to a couple of vacant chairs at one end of the room. Lucas could have wished they had waited a little longer, for now they would see that he was dancing with Lady Philippa Ware, and that would put ideas in their heads again—ifthose ideas had ever left their heads, that was.
Actually he wished they had not come at all. His grandfather had been complaining all day of an upset stomach and shortness of breath, but when Aunt Kitty had suggested that he spend the rest of the day quietly at home, he had snapped at her and reminded her that he was not going to Almack’s in order to dance and frolic. He could sit quietly there as easily as he could at home. They had comehere, of course, to see what eligible young ladies were in attendance and to make sure Luc was introduced to any he had not already met. Though Lucas was perfectly sure Lady Philippa remained their clear favorite.
“Shall I take you to Jenny?” he asked when the set ended. “Or would you prefer to join Lord and Lady Stratton? I must go and pay my respects to my grandparents even though I saw them at dinner a few hours ago.”
She was not given a chance to answer him. His Grace had raised an arm and was beckoning imperiously—to both of them, it seemed.
