A slight clearing of the throat to his right attracted his thoughts away from family matters and he turned his head slightly to see Miss Kitty Ridlington suppress a wince as she stretched her spine a little in a movement just short of a fidget.
He sympathized. These chairs were bloody uncomfortable for a lengthy piece of music. He doubted that situation would change even if the great Johann Cramer himself were sitting at the piano playing the same piece.
Finally, his patience was rewarded by the final bars of the sonata, and Max found himself rising and applauding along with the other fifty or so people in the room. Most of whom, like him, were probably welcoming the chance to stand and stretch, rather than expressing enthusiasm for the performance.
The murmur of conversation grew as the audience began the tedious process of filing out of the ballroom and into the reception hall where food and beverages would be served. With his customary adroitness, Max easily found himself beside his prey.
“Good evening, Miss Ridlington.” He glanced around. “And Miss Hecate? I believe I saw her earlier…”
Kitty dropped a slight curtsey. “Good evening, Mr. Seton-Mowbray. Yes, my sister is speaking with friends, I believe.” She looked off to her right. “Just over there.”
“Ah yes.” He noted the group was absent one Dancey Miller-James, and heaved a sigh of relief. “In that case, I declare my intention of seizing this opportunity to offer my arm as support and guidance through the starving throng.” He raised his bent arm, holding it out to her, his expression daring her to accept.
“How eloquent, Mr. Seton-Mowbray. And yet a simplemay I escort youwould have worked just as well.” She shot him a somewhat scornful glance. “I’m hungry too.”
“Good.” He merely grinned as she placed her gloved hand on his sleeve and allowed him to steer them to a couple of empty chairs. “Wait here, don’t let anyone take that seat, and I’ll fetch us a couple of plates.”
“Don’t forget the lobster patties,” she said as he turned to leave. “I adore them. Miss those and I will never speak to you again.”
“A terrible threat.” He chuckled. “Lobster patties it is.”
Adroitly balancing two plates, he returned minutes later, pleased to observe that Miss Ridlington had indeed managed to defend their seats from other guests.
“Your refreshments, Ma’am.” He bowed, gave her a plate and then took his own seat. “You will note the preponderance of lobster patties.”
She was surveying the mountain of little pastries with approval. “You certainly took me at my word, sir.”
He munched appreciatively for a moment. “The thought of being cut from your list of acquaintances struck terror into my soul. By the way,” he munched again. “You’re right about them. They are quite delicious.”
Both ate appreciatively, the silence between them oddly comfortable as they watched the ebb and flow of people in the room.
Then Kitty swallowed, and spoke. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” He turned his head and looked at her.
“Being quite unlike yourself.”
He blinked. “In what way?”
She barely restrained a snort. “Mr. Seton-Mowbray. We have crossed paths now more times than I can recall, at a variety of events, over what has to be close to a year or so. In all that time, in all those encounters, you have never revealed any desire to be charming or attentive. In fact, you have mostly appeared to be uninterested, often intimidating, and seldom conversational.” She considered the contents of her plate and carefully selected another treat. “And yet this evening, here you are, waiting on me, fetching me lobster patties, and generally acting in a most unexpected way.” She popped the confection into her mouth and murmured in delight for a moment. “I should add that I am not complaining.” She licked her lips. “But it is quite out of the ordinary.”
Max had a difficult time pushing aside the results of watching her tongue leave a sheen on those full lips. “Really.”
“Yes. Really.” She set her plate aside with a sigh. “So I shall repeat myself. Why are you doing this?”
“Because it gives me pleasure?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m sure there are many things that give you pleasure. But you had ample chance to explore this particular behaviour before now, and you didn’t. So no, I won’t accept that reason.”
He shrugged. “You have found me out, Miss Ridlington.” He too set his plate on the small table behind them. “I have something of import to discuss with you.”
“Better,” she nodded.
He narrowed his eyes. “That is the truth, you know. It is important. And I’m not sure how to begin the conversation.”
“Well, when you decide, do let me know?” She sighed. “I can’t say I’m averse to missing the second part of the evening’s entertainment. Señor Bonatello must be having an off night.”
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