To him, it meant the chance to head for the door, grab a spare horse and rideventre à terrethrough the night, like a highwayman pursued by a troop of angry Dragoons.
Sighing, he looked around for a compromise, only to meetCherry’s expressionless stare. Helpless, he headed toward her.
“Miss Trease.” He bowed.
“Lord DeVarne.” She curtsied.
“A lovely evening,” he said.
“Indeed,” she replied.
“Will you be dancing?”
She shot him a look that spoke volumes. “Unfortunately, yes, I have no choice in the matter. But not, of course, with you.”
He raised an eyebrow in return. “That was understood.”
The musicians tuned up their instruments, and a ripple of excitement ran through the crowd.
Cherry reached out and grasped the arm of a young woman. “Alberta, dear, may I introduce you to a-a friend of mine? Or perhaps I should say acquaintance, since it’s our mothers who know each other. This is Lord DeVarne.” She turned to Garrett. “Miss Alberta Grandison, my Lord. Her mama led the decorating team for this evening’s event. Her papa is our Vicar.”
“How delightful.” Hiding the numerous curses his brain was currently raining down on Cherry’s head, Garrett did everything that was proper, bowing, taking the young lady’s hand and barely touching it with his lips as she curtsied low. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said quietly.
“Oh, my goodness. I mean, my Lord,” stuttered Alberta, clearly taken aback. Her eyes were wide as she darted a quick look at Cherry. “I…never…well, I can’t say as I’ve ever…”
“Oh, listen. A cotillion.” Cherry smiled at Garrett. “Our Alberta is known for her graceful dance steps, my Lord.”
Taking the hint, but sending Cherry a quick look that should have melted her into a greasy spot, he bowed courteously once more to Alberta. “In that case, Miss Grandison, I hope you’ll do me the honour?”
“I…oh…well, yes. Yes, of course. Thank you…”
Knowing he was in for a long evening, Garrett gritted his teeth, darted a quick pretend smile toward his mother, who he knew would be watching, and led Miss Grandison to their position in the set.
It didn’t ease his mind at all to see Cherry also being led into position on the floor by a very short, rotund gentleman who appeared overjoyed to be her partner. At least his enormous grin gave that impression.
Garrett felt a little better at the barely concealed look of resignation on Cherry’s face. If he was going to suffer through this, then she ought to as well.
As they went through the patterns of the dance, (which Garrett, having had these things dinned into his head by numerous dancing masters, could have done with his eyes closed), he had to wonder if all this subterfuge would work, or if they were just being silly and depriving themselves of an experience that might have been quite enjoyable.
Dancing with Cherry would, to judge by the grace she revealed during the exchanges, be a very pleasant way to spend some time.
“What?” He glanced down. “I do beg your pardon, Miss Grandison. My mind was on my steps, and I didn’t hear your words…”
“Oh,” she tittered. “I apologise for interrupting your thoughts, my Lord. I just wondered if you were enjoying your time here in Lesser Banthorpe.”
“Very much,” he managed a smile. “A charming location with delightful residents.”
She blushed and lowered her eyelids, her lashes fluttering a little.
Damn. Now he was giving the poor girl ideas. “Perhaps you will introduce me to your other friends. I know I shall takepleasure in recalling everyone I meet this evening, upon my return to London.”
“Oh.” She sniffed. “Of course, my Lord. Howverygracious of you.”
Hmm. Miss Grandison was, he judged, a bit miffed by that comment. Content with that, Garrett concentrated on his steps and prayed for a relatively short piece of music.
*~~*~~*
“Miss Trease. Will you honour me with this dance?”
