“It is only a little punch, I am sure it will dry,” he sought to comfort her, but he could see rather quickly his attempt did little. The punch was already trickling not only over his arm but down his trouser leg too. She started trying to pat the napkins on his arm, drying the punch, then she realized what she was doing, and her eyes widened as she stepped back.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again.
“You said that already,” he was still chuckling. “Pray, think nothing of it.”
“How can I not?” she asked as she tried to dry the marks from her own dress. “I have ruined your suit.”
“Well, you can blame me for that,” he said, before leaning toward her and dropping his voice to a whisper, conspiratorially. “I should not have been so eager to get to the punch bowl. Believe me, the accident was much more my fault than yours.” As he stood straight, he could see her worried expression breaking briefly into a smile, before the concern was back.
The brief smile had lit up her features, making Francis concentrate more on the woman. She was very pretty indeed with rather beautiful green eyes, a small and slender nose, full lips and now cheeks that were reddening from embarrassment. Judging by that blush and the way she hung her head, trying to avoid his gaze, he thought her rather shy.
“I was the one who collided with you,” she said, trying to look up at him again. “I am definitely the one to blame.”
“How about we make a deal and say we are both to blame?” he said, patting dry some of the wetness with one of the napkins. “For which you have already apologized for your part, so no more apologies for it. I should be asking forgiveness of you for ruining your dress.”
She looked down at the gown, her body suddenly freezing. The dress did not particularly suit her, in his opinion. The neckline was very high, and the sleeves were long, as though she were hiding from the world.
“Oh no,” she muttered and then gazed through the crowd of guests, as though looking for someone.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, intrigued at her behavior.
“It does not matter,” she said quickly. “Forgive me, you must allow me to pay for a new suit.”
“Ha! No such thing is required,” he was still laughing. Her sheer panic was amusing to him. “Please, let me put your mind at rest.” He assured, stepping toward her as he leaned past to prepare a punch glass. He first took the glass out of her hands, aware that as their fingers touched, she jumped. He had felt the same electric shock but thought nothing of it. “I do not care for the suit or the spilt punch, not a jot.”
“You do not?” she asked, seemingly bemused as he filled her glass first before her own.
“Not in the slightest. All I care about is that you no longer feel bad for our accident,” he tried to convince her as he passed the glass toward her again. He didn’t release the glass just yet, and their dual hold on the item urged her gaze to lift to his.
She really is rather pretty.
“Can I ask the name of the young lady whose dress I have ruined?” he asked, mocking himself with his tone. He was delighted when her face spread into a small smile again.
“Lady Ridlington,” she explained. His eyebrows quirked, having remembered the name being mentioned by his sister on the journey to the assembly in carriage.
“Viscount Ridlington’s wife?” he asked.
“That is correct,” she said, though her smile vanished from her face at the mention of the husband.
That is one of the reasons I shall never marry,he assured himself. He had no wish to ever have a lady bound to him who would then look so perturbed by the mere mention of his name.
“Francis, there you are,” Diana’s voice disturbed the two of them. Francis saw Lady Ridlington turn her head away, though he felt he could not. He was too busy looking at the pretty features of Lady Ridlington as he sipped his punch. “Ah, I see you have already met my friend. Well, this certainly makes this conversation a lot easier.”
“Met and introduced are two different things,” he said good naturedly, turning to see his sister smiling at the side of him. “We have met, and I know her name, but she does not yet know mine.”
“Ah, Lady Ridlington, allow me to introduce my brother,” Diana said, moving to her friend’s side. “This is the Duke of Hayward.”
The small smile that had been playing on Lady Ridlington’s features vanished and she covered her mouth in shock, her eyes darting back down to the punch stains now on his jacket and trousers.
* * *
I do not believe it,Phoebe thought to herself.I have destroyed the suit of the Duke of Hayward!
To her amazement, the Duke merely laughed again, watching her.
“Lady Ridlington, you look as though you have just been introduced to a wizard, or something equally wondrous. I assure you, I am just a man.” He was charming. Phoebe felt somersaults in her stomach as she hurried to do a curtsy. “Please, you do not have to curtsy so deeply.”
“My friend is very proper, Francis,” Lady Dodge said with a clear warning tone.
