“Had her come-out years ago?—”
“Weren’t you still in leading strings, Portney?”
A roar of laughter burst forth.
“And nothing came of her debut season.”
“Probably just did it out of obligation.”
“She might not be the sort who’s interested in marriage,” offered Dev.
Why was he defending her? While he didn’t pretend to know what sort of woman Lady Beatrix was, he did know she was the sort who knew her own mind.
“Oh, she’s definitely that sort.” Portney’s eyebrows crashed together with confusion. “The sort who’snotthat sort.”
“And that’s what the dancing bet was about?” asked Dev in an attempt to steer the conversation toward the information he sought.
“It’s a standing bet at every ball.”
“Has been for years.”
“To see who can convince Lady Beatrix to dance a single dance.”
“And has she ever been convinced?” Dev found he wanted to know.
“Not once.”
“And there’s the father.”
Dev was getting more information than he’d bargained for, yet he couldn’t not ask… “Who is her father?”
“Lydon.”
Dev searched his mind. He knew of only one Lydon… “The marquess?”
“The very one.”
“The Marquess of Lydon is Lady Beatrix St. Vincent’s father?”
“Indeed.”
From what Dev had observed of father and daughter, two more different people couldn’t exist. How was that supremely self-possessed woman the daughter of the dissolute Marquess of Lydon? Every time Dev saw him, the old wastrel was thirty or so cups into his drink and a hundred or so pounds in debt to a dealer.
Thatwas Lady Beatrix’sfather?
“She’s always been a bit high in the instep for us mere mortals.”
Now,thatfit within Dev’s experience of the lady to a T.
A few nods all around, and talk, predictably, turned toward more felicitous conversation—horseflesh.
Dev let it proceed without him, for his mind hadn’t stopped chewing on the previous one.
So, that was Lady Beatrix St. Vincent, all laid out for him. A few surprises, yes, but his overall impression of her remained largely unchanged.
Except he knew one thing more about the lady than did anyone else in this room.
Just as they were observing her and storing up opinions, she was doing the same with them.
