Christopher stood, the smile fading from his face. “It was ever so good of you to offer,” the Lady said. “Perhaps at the next ball we can all pair up and dance the quadrille together.” She turned her head to Henry. “We will find you a nice lady to dance with you, and we shall have a full set!” She clapped her hands together and laughed at her idea.
“That would be splendid, would it not, Christopher? He loves the quadrille,” Henry said. It was obvious to Christopher that his brother was being facetious. However, to those around them, he appeared eager.
“Splendid. Did you hear, my Dear? We shall all dance the quadrille at the next ball. Perhaps at the Almack's next Wednesday, what do you say? My Lord Husband, perhaps you can send word to the Duke of Thornmouth to see if he might join us?”
“Of course, dearest. I shall do so after dinner. Ah, well it appears my daughters are arriving. It is either them or a herd of rhinos broken out of the menagerie,” the Earl chuckled once more at his own joke.
“Augustus,” Lady Hazelshire hissed, the Earl’s first name slipping out of her mouth.
However, he was not wrong. Rapid, noisy footsteps could be heard running down the stairs and a moment later, three shapes appeared at the door.
* * *
Christopher’s heart sang with joy when at last he saw her. Lady Rowena was as ravishing as he remembered. Her long dark hair was braided up and wrapped around her head, and small flowers adorned the braid.
The Earl stepped up to his daughter. “Your Grace, I trust you remember my daughter, the Lady Rowena.” She curtsied before him but did not meet his eye.
“Your Grace, an honor to welcome you in our home,” she said. Very briefly their eyes met. He saw an uncertainty in them, almost as if she was afraid to look at him fully.
He on the other hand, reveled in the opportunity to lay his eyes upon her beautiful face. What an extraordinary beauty she was. The moment passed all too soon, for behind her, her sister waited eagerly to be announced.
“And my younger daughter. Lady Catherine,” Lord Hazelshire said, beaming with pride. Unlike her sister, Lady Catherine was eager to meet him again. She stepped before him, curtsied deep and then flashed a bright smile at him.
“Lady Catherine, a pleasure to see you again.”
“And you, Your Grace. Perhaps after dinner I might entertain you with some music? I’ve just studied a new piece by Beethoven. I recall you said you were fond of him?”
Christopher nodded, even though he remembered no such thing. Indeed, he remembered nothing of the conversation they’d had at her ball, for he’d been entirely occupied with thoughts of her older sister. When Lady Catherine stepped aside to greet his brother, Christopher saw the third young woman before him.
He recalled her vaguely as one of the people who’d exited the carriage when he’d first set eyes on Lady Rowena that morning.
“This is Miss Elizabeth Carmichael. Our ward. She will be leaving us shortly to take appointment with Lord Portsmouth,” the Earl explained as the young woman curtsied.
“Lord Portsmouth, you said?” His attention focused on the young woman before him. She nodded once, as she eyed him with an odd curiosity.
“Indeed, I am to be their governess. Have you met their children, Your Grace? Ever so darling.”
He swallowed. “I have not had the pleasure, although I know Lord Portsmouth. We were at Eton together.”
Her eyes lit up. “Perhaps you may give me some advice and pointers before I take my new position, then.”
He nodded at her graciously and she rushed to Lady Rowena’s side, excitedly whispering to her. The Lady looked up at him, a small smile on her lips.
Christopher suddenly had an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. It was easy to see the bond between the two young woman and he wondered if it was wise of him to tell them the truth of Lord Portsmouth.
He was a well-known rake. Despite being married to the beautiful but shy Viscountess Portsmouth, he was known in the gambling rooms of London for the high-stake games he enjoyed, and for his roving eye. And hands. He’d heard a tale that he’d made a maid with child and then put her out of the house. This was of course theon dit, and perhaps best not shared with either of the young women.
The party moved into the dining room, which was as lavishly furnished as the drawing room, albeit much more masculine.
In this, it reminded him of the Earl’s study. The furniture was heavy and mahogany, and the dining table which could easily have seated a troop of ten. For tonight, however, the chairs had been spaced out to have room for just the six of them. It was covered in white tablecloth and covered with dishes.
He spotted soups, fish, bread, and various serving bowls.
The Earl took his seat at the head of the table and indicated for Henry and Christopher to sit on either side of him. To his great delight, Lady Rowena was seated beside him, next to her mother. Her sister and ward were across from her. He soon found that his delight was short lived, for she still did not look at him and sat in a stiff manner, hands folded in her lap.
Why is it that she cannot even look at me? Have I done something to offend her?
Around him, dinner plates were being filled and glasses raised. Yet he could not help but continue to stare at the woman beside him. He decided he had to break the awkwardness and leaned toward her.
