The present Earl of Radcliffe was also single and stricken enough in years that he might not paw too much, but the dratted man was scarcely ever in society. Really most unfair that Sybil had not been given an adequate chance to show him what he was missing out there in the country.
She stood and lifted her arms so Merrier could remove the silk wrapper that protected Sybil’s gown during makeup and hairdressing. She slid one hand lovingly down the gold lace overdress. The Parisian style setters might be advocating simplicity, but men still appreciated grandeur. Kingsley didn’t have a chance.
This past spring, Miss Debenham had reluctantly decided that she might have to accept a viscount, though she still would not stoop to a baron. She had been running out of possibles when Kingsley had appeared on the scene. One saw him everywhere this autumn, and while Sybil knew that some other girls had set their caps for him, there wasn’t one that could compete with her. She had taken her time studying him cultivating his dim little sister Annabelle, observing how he interacted with people.
Kingsley was annoyingly informal, with no proper sense of his own dignity, but that was a minor failing. He was attractive enough to be a credit to her, and surprisingly, he seemed rather shy around women. It must come from spending so much time with a bunch of seagoing ruffians. Perhaps the viscount would return to sea after they were married. Then he wouldn’t be in her way, and he looked to be the heroic sort, which would increase her own consequence. If he did well enough, Kingsley might even be elevated to earl. That would be a good reward for her condescension in accepting a viscount.
Her maid fastened the diamond necklace about her neck and Sybil nodded with satisfaction. It was the perfect touch. Tonight she would bring herself to Kingsley’s attention. Shy as he was, the viscount would be awed by her beauty and dazzled by her favor. By the end of the month, he would make her an offer, there was no doubt of it.
Claudia Debenham nodded approvingly as her daughter came down the stairs, one hand gracefully trailing along the curving banister. It was always good to practice artful gestures; one never knew who might be watching.
“Very good, my dear. That dress suits you very well. Kingsley will be quite smitten.” The two women were co-conspirators in pursuit of the elusive title; in fact, the daughter’s obsession stemmed from the mother’s failure to achieve the social heights she had desired for herself. Claudia had been a well-looking girl but was nothing like the dazzler her daughter was. The older woman had counted herself lucky to catch the second son of a baron. Of course, her husband Leo’s elder brother had been sickly, and she had had hopes that Leo would inherit the title. Instead, the sickly brother was flourishing, with four healthy sons, while Leo had declined into an early grave. It never occurred to Claudia to wonder if she herself had contributed to his premature demise.
“Now, tell me again what you will do,” Claudia commanded.
Sybil rolled her eyes in irritation. “Youknow, Mother,” she said petulantly. “When Kingsley enters with his sister, I wait a few minutes while they get settled, then go over and tell her I have found an outstanding milliner and ask her to go with me tomorrow. Annabelle will have to introduce me to her brother. Then when her court is rushing up to claim dances with her, I put him at his ease. Lord Kingsley will certainly ask me to dance. I will tell him how I adore his insipid little sister, which will please him. And I’ll ask him about his adventures in the navy. Men love talking about such things. It should go perfectly smoothly; he has shown no preference for any other girl.”
“None of them can outshine you, my dear,” her mother said complacently. “Shall we be on our way?”
* * *
“Lord Kingsley and Miss Kingsley,” the footman intoned.
Annabelle looked around the Wincastles’ ballroom in happy anticipation. It was one of the grandest of the autumn’s entertainments, and she had been looking forward to it. Parties were quite enjoyable now that she was dressed well and more confident.
“Enjoy your moment of peace, Belle,” her brother said with a grin. “I see one or two of your admirers looking in this direction, and they will be elbowing me out of the way soon.”
“Oh, Alex, you exaggerate,” Annabelle said with a laugh. “They are always most respectful to you. After all, you are my guardian, and they want to turn you up sweet.”
“Wheredoyou pick up such language, Belle?” Alex said as he led them toward a row of chairs on the opposite side of the ballroom.
“Where else but in the bosom of my family, O brother mine,” Annabelle said demurely.
“If you don’t show some respect for your elders, I’ll start larding my speech with navy terms. If you usethem, you’ll be like the sailor’s parrot. Unfit for mixed company.”
Annabelle laughed as she settled into a chair, then suppressed a sigh when she saw that Sybil Debenham was bearing down on them. Miss Debenham had been most kind in her attentions, but Belle had trouble warming to her. Sybil’s conversation was paralyzingly empty, and her relentlessly fashionable style made the younger girl feel too tall, too gawky, and hopelessly countrified. But it was not in Annabelle to refuse proffered friendship, so she looked up with a smile and said, “Good evening, Miss Debenham. You are in particularly good looks this evening.”
“Please, my dear, do call me Sybil. I’ve asked you a thousand times!” Miss Debenham fluttered her fan, artlessly overlooking Lord Kingsley’s substantial presence. “I want to tell you about thissuperbmilliner I’ve discovered. An absolute marvel! Do say you will come with me to see her tomorrow.” Her gracious invitation managed to convey that Annabelle was in dire need of the ministrations of any and all purveyors of fashion.
Alex was watching the new arrival with fascination; she was the most highly finished piece of nature he had ever seen! Every curl was perfectly placed, every gesture, a study in graceful composition. He was wondering if she practiced her movements in front of a mirror when Annabelle made the introduction. “Alex, this is Miss Sybil Debenham. Miss Debenham, my brother, Lord Kingsley.”
Alex blinked under the force of the aquamarine eyes turned in his direction. Making a bow, he murmured his pleasure at the honor done him. Miss Debenham giggled. “Oh, the honor is mine, my lord. I have beenlongingthis age to meet the hero.”
Alex swallowed uncomfortably and murmured that she must have confused him with someone else. Treating his response as a piece of wit, Sybil giggled again. “And modest too! How naughty of you to have deprived London of your presence for so long.”
Unable to respond adequately to such effusiveness, Alex asked, “Would you care to dance?” A glance at Annabelle showed that she was rapidly disappearing into a circle of admirers and was in no need of his support.
“I would bedelighted, my lord,” Miss Debenham said promptly. Had Alex looked more closely, he might have seen a triumphant gleam in the Incomparable’s eyes.
Alex was grateful that Christa had managed to teach him to dance. Now he enjoyed it, and dancing reduced the necessity of speech to an absolute minimum. He decided that Miss Debenham was a gorgeous widgeon—certainly gorgeous, and decidedly a widgeon. But a man would have to be blind not to enjoy looking at her, so he asked her for another dance later in the evening. And without quite understanding how, the viscount found that he had engaged to take her for a ride in the park two days hence. Well, he had wanted to meet suitable women, and what man wouldn’t be flattered that a stunner like this indicated that she found him appealing?
Chapter 12
Christa looked at her mistress with a frown. Sir Edward Loaming had “happened” on them in the park with great frequency in the last several weeks, and it was obvious to the meanest intelligence that something was afoot. She fell back to a distance out of earshot of Annabelle and her swain, but carefully kept them in sight. Annabelle glowed with infatuation; Sir Edward was merely fatuous, she thought uncharitably.
There was no real harm in their meetings, Christa admitted to herself. Although Sir Edward took every opportunity to touch Annabelle’s elbow or take her hand to help her around the most minor of obstacles—such as large blades of grass—he stayed within the limits of propriety. It was just that Christa had taken a dislike to Sir Edward and wished that Lord Kingsley would tell his sister to keep away from the man.
But doubtless Alex had checked and discovered that the baronet was perfectly respectable. Every woman falls in love with a handsome face at least once in her life; Christa herself had been enthralled with a farrier the whole of her thirteenth summer. She could only hope that Annabelle would recover from hertendrequickly—
