“Yes, but half an hour after we’d left,” responded the gentleman, in less than gentlemanly tones.
Lucas sighed and looked the other way, happy once again that he’d not married. Apparently such a permanent arrangement most often brought dissatisfaction along with it. At least that’s what he’d seen more often than not.
Finally reaching the top of the stairs, he could see the massive chandeliers, almost blindingly brilliant, sending twinkling sparks from the many jewels on display. The ballroom already held a very large number of guests, making him frown at the prospect of trying to locate Alastair.
Complicating matters was the sound of the orchestra, a clarion call to everyone that the first dance was about to start. Barely avoiding being run over by eager participants, Lucas eagerly sped to the safety of a large pillar on one side of the room.
From there, he was able to survey the dancers, and also those ringing the floor. And there, at last, he spied Alastair.
It only took about five frustrating minutes to circle the dancers, avoid being bumped, dodge the fantastically decorated gowns that swung wide with the steps of the waltz, and cleverly avoid servants carrying trays of glasses, some filled with what looked like champagne, others obviously already emptied.
At last, with a massive sigh of relief, he reached the corner where Alastair Pembroke had set up shop for the evening. The elderly man’s face lit up with a smile when he spied his friend.
“Thank God, Lucas,” he grinned. “I was despairing of meeting anyone tonight who could manage a decent conversation.”
“Well, there’s an easy solution to that problem. Don’t host balls, Alastair. You’re asking for trouble when you do that.”
Alastair laughed. “I am so glad to see you in person. Our conversations through the CCE never really satisfy.”
The two men shared a glance of understanding.
“It’s delightful to be here,” Lucas said, aware of the public environment. “I am honoured that you invited me.” He bowed and smiled, the perfectly proper guest.
“I have seen a few surprised faces already, my friend. My suspicions are that you’ll be besieged before the evening ends. The prodigal son and all that...”
“Yes. And I anticipated it. Doesn’t mean I’m going to like it, but...” He glanced at his host. “I had to come.”
Alastair nodded, keeping a social smile fixed firmly on his face. “I know.”
“Perhaps we could...”
Lucas got no further as a loud blast of music from the orchestra’s dais drew everyone’s eyes.
“Ahhh.” Alastair rose. “Here’s our young lady. The amazing girl who has assumed responsibility for this evening, along with any number of other charitable causes. And she’s damned good at managing ‘em, too.” He nodded to where the crowd was parting. “Here’s where I have to go make an idiot of myself.” He shot Lucas a smile and rolled his eyes. “Don’t let anyone take my chair.”
“I won’t.” His gaze was fixed upon the woman forging a path through the crowd, and then waiting at the corner of the dais. She looked strangely familiar...
Alastair walked to the front of the dais and cleared his throat.
“Good evening, good evening.” He nodded and smiled as the chattering and shuffling decreased. “I just want to make sure I wish you all a wonderful time tonight, since you’ll all be far too busy to say hello to an old man...”
Laughter and a few calls of “noo” and “hello” answered Alastair’s humourous comment.
“Anyway,” he continued, “At this moment I must perform the most pleasant of duties by introducing the true heroine of this evening. Many of you are familiar with her good works on behalf of the children of Arcvale. Many more might know of her other forward-thinking ideas concerning education and the health of our youngest citizens. So I must say that it is with great pride that I present this evening’s hostess...Lady Verity Turner-Yardley.”
Applause rang out, growing in intensity and—to judge by the faces—it was genuine, surprising Lucas, who waited for his first glance of this person held in such high esteem by his old friend.
A woman in a perfectly tailored grey silk gown stepped up onto the dais beside Alastair, and put her hand on hisarm. Her smile was warm and affectionate, her style elegant, and confidence lingered about her like the finest perfume. She leaned in and dropped a soft kiss on the older man’s cheek, saying something beneath her breath that made him chuckle and shake his head.
Then she moved forward slightly, allowing Alastair to step back to his chair.
The room quietened, and Lady Turner-Yardley removed a small piece of paper from her reticule. Then she lifted her chin and smiled...
And Lucas’s jaw nearly hit the floor as he got his first good look at her.
It wasthatVerity. The poor girl who’d been thrust at him as a suitable bride by parents who hadn’t cared she’d barely turned seventeen.
*~~*~~*
