Daniel smiled at this. He did like a woman who wished to explore her options. Penelope had always struck him as someone who’d go her own way one day, and it seemed her friend was not unlike her.
“I see nothing wrong with a lady knowing how to handle a saber.”
“Neither do I. Alas, my father thinks it unsuitable and thus I suppose I shall keep to dancing and riding. And tending to my cat, although she does not like being tended to, it seems.” She raised a hand and he noticed rather large scratch on the back of her hand.
“By Jove, it looks as though she does not! Is she a wild cat?”
Miss Hughes shook her head. “She is a kitten. A large kitten, almost a stone already! I called her Polly but I think Roly-Poly is a better name.” She giggled and Daniel smiled politely as she continued to chatter on. “I rescued her from the barn two months ago. I heard a cry upon returning from my ride and went to investigate. I discovered her wedged behind a bale of hay and set out to save her. I managed it and talked my father into allowing me to keep her, but she seems rather ungrateful.”
“I dare say I agree.”
“Perhaps when you and Mr. Mavis come to visit Amberley Hall, I can introduce you. From a secure distance, of course.”
She beamed as they danced and he could see why Penelope liked her. She had a sparkling personality and was rather chatty. Chattier than Daniel usually liked. However, he had to admit she was entertaining.
They made another turn on the dance floor and found themselves twirling past Penelope and Alistair, the latter of whom winked in their direction. Then he turned his attention back to his dance partner who chattered away.
“Oh la, Mr. Mavis is dangling after Penelope, I declare,” Miss Hughes chuckled. Daniel found himself not at all amused by this comment. In fact, his nostrils flared as he glanced at his friend.
“I should hope not. Alistair is a marvelous friend, but he is not a suitable match for Penelope.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. Miss Hughes frowned at him.
“Is he not? He appears a rather upstanding young man, and he adores her, that much is obvious. In any case, she seems to enjoy herself, which is lovely to see.”
Daniel looked down at his dance partner. “Does she not usually?”
Miss Hughes flinched. “Not at balls. Penny is not one to dance much. Nor does she enjoy the attention of lords. She is reserved. I feared she’d never find a man to capture her interest, but here is to hoping Mr. Mavis may.”
Daniel stole another look toward the couple. Alistair was in his London mode. When they went to balls there, Alistair was always the star, always the swell of the first stare, pinkest of the pink—a shining focal point for all to look upon. Unless Beau Brummel or Lord Byron were in attendance, of course.
Alistair, old chum. Please do not use your charms on Penelope. She is much too pure and kind to be turned into Alistair Mavis’ obsession of the moment.
No, she deserved so much better. A sudden wave of darkness descended upon him. Despite the joyful music and the eager company, he could think of nothing but Penelope and the ruin he might bring upon her should he allow Alistair to enchant her, as it seemed he already did. To his great relief, the music ended and Miss Hughes took ahold of his arm, walking him off the dance floor and toward the edge of the ballroom. A moment later, Alistair and Penelope joined them there. He noticed at once how flushed her face was, her cheeks rosy from the exercise.
“Daniel, you never told me you were acquainted with the best dancer in all of England. Keeping her a secret from me and stashed away in the countryside is a true crime, my friend.”
“You flatter me, Mr. Mavis,” Penelope said.
“Not at all, I speak nothing but the truth.”
Daniel cleared his throat. “I am inclined to agree. You have always been a wonderful dancer, Penny.”
She blinked and looked at him. “Thank you, Lord Carlton. I imagine you remember our dance lessons from our childhood days.”
He nodded, fondly remembering their attempts at mastering the country dances and the quadrille together in this very ballroom. He flashed his brightest smile at her, for the fact that she spoke to him directly gave him hope that perhaps she did not hate him quite so deeply, after all.
“I recall the assault upon your poor feet. I apologize on behalf of my one-and-ten-year old self. Perhaps you might allow me the opportunity to show you that I eventually mastered the quadrille.”
Her face darkened at once and she shook her head. “I am afraid I promised it to Mr. Mavis here.”
Two dances? Two? Does she not know that is all but an engagement in the London circles? She must.
He was about to speak up when Alistair placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do not fret, old chum. We’re in the country, nobody will think anything of a couple dancing together twice. In fact, I suggest you dance the quadrille with Miss Hughes here. You make a smashing pair on the dance floor.”
Daniel felt his hands curl into fists and a red wave of anger overcame him. One dance. That is all he wanted. An opportunity to converse with her in private, to explain—well—to apologize, for he could never explain his true reasons for staying away. But no. Alistair was set against any such thing to take place. Realizing that this reaction, this anger he felt was not rational, he recalled the words of Mr. Percival. He’d all but told him his father had suffered from the same strong emotions for much of his life—and look where it had led him in the end.
No. I must control myself. I cannot allow this to become my path.
He turned to Miss Hughes. “My dear Miss Hughes, I…”
