Grace smothered a laugh. “Yes, that does sound like him,” she said. “You mustn’t take it personally.”
“Oh, I have no doubt but that he intended it to be extremely personal.” The flat, grim monotone conveyed a sort of dark humor she didn’t quite understand.
Charity came weaving through the crowd as they approached. “There you are,” she said. “I had wondered where you’d gone off to.” A polite and gentle admonishment for not having returned Grace to her side promptly upon the completion of the dance.
“Do forgive me, Your Grace,” Lord Lockhart said. “I simply found your sister’s company too enjoyable to surrender as quickly as I ought to have done.”
Charity’s brows arched in interest. “Did you, then, my lord?”
“I have asked Miss Seymour already if I might call upon her tomorrow,” Lord Lockhart replied. “With your approval, naturally.”
“Provided Grace has agreed,” Charity said, “then you may have it.” There was a measure of confusion within her voice, andGrace knew she must be recalling every incident in which Lord Lockhart had complained of Tansy’s frequent intrusions into his garden, or else his home. Of how often Grace herself had grumbled over the character assassination of her beloved pet at his hands.
She would have questions later, Grace was certain.
Lord Lockhart took her hand in his and bowed over it. Not the simple, polite gesture that a lady could expect from any gentleman with whom she had consented to dance, but a deep, respectful one that would no doubt send a flurry of whispers sailing through the room.
Practically an announcement of interest, laid bare for the public to dissect and gossip about. It would be all over London by morning—that Lord Lockhart had paid her such attention as this.
“I believe I saw my aunt only a few moments ago,” he said to both of them. “She is giving a dinner party two days from now. I am certain I can secure an invitation for Miss Seymour. Might I prevail upon you, Your Grace, to serve as her chaperone?”
“I’m afraid I’ve already committed to an event that evening,” Charity said. “Dinner with my husband’s sister-in-law, you understand. It cannot be moved, but—I believe my sister, Mercy, has got that evening free.”
Grace managed to swallow back a sigh of relief. Out of her three sisters, Mercy was by far the one whose notice was easiest to elude. With the right distraction—and with Lord Lockhart’s assistance—probably Mercy would never even notice that a short jaunt to the retiring room had taken a bit longer than it ought to have done.
“I’ll ask Aunt Alicia to send round an invitation.” At last Lord Lockhart released Grace’s hand and sketched a bow. “Until tomorrow, then.”
“Well,” Charity said lightly as they watched him leave,winding his way once more through the crowd toward his aunt. “Do you know, he was rather more polite than I expected him to be, given your mostly acrimonious history.” A shrewd glint came into her eyes. “Is there something you’ve not told me?”
“Am I not allowed a secret or two? Iamfour and twenty, you know.” Officially, she had no need of a guardian, though her sisters frequently stood in as chaperones when necessary. Still, they were rather more protective of herreputation than they ever had been of their own.
“But youdoknow that you can tell me anything?” Charity pressed. “Anything at all.”
Her own secrets? Of course. But someone else’s? Well, that felt rather less certain. Even if she knew well enough her family would be the very last to place judgment for such a thing, she doubted whether Lord Lockhart would be comfortable with them being privy to hissecrets.
Shewasreasonably certain that they wouldn’t approve of stealing on his behalf. Not for any particularly moral reason, but because there certainlywouldbe consequences if she were caught. Though Uncle Chris would likely cheer her on—but only because he took a perverse delight in being contrary and outrageous.
“I do know,” she said. “And when I have got something to say, I will.” When the danger had passed, and there was no longer any risk. When she could determine how best to speak of such things without revealing secrets that were not her right to share.
“Good,” Charity said, and she wrapped one arm around Grace’s shoulders in that sisterly affection that Grace had come to hold so dear. “So. Lord Lockhart,” she said on a sigh. “Bit of prig, if you ask me. Stuffy. Starchy, even.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “It was only a dance!”
“And a morning call,” Charity said in a saccharine-sweetvoice. “And a dinner invitation! Next it will beonlyan engagement—” She laughed as Grace bumped her hip with her own in mute chastisement. “I’m only teasing, dear. I’ll admit he’s not the sort I thought you’d prefer, but if you like him, then we shall endeavor to like him.”
It was one of the things she loved best about her family; their generous, easy acceptance, even of those who would not have seemed to fit amongst them. But it was the oddest thing—shedidlike him. Just a little. More than she had expected to.
∞∞∞
The noise was incredible. Henry had rarely been close enough to the Duke of Warrington’s house to truly appreciate just how loud it really was. Across the street had always been quite close enough for him, and even then the general volume of the sound from within the house had been…perturbing, to say the least.
Henry lifted his hand to knock, cringing as an ear-shattering screech vibrated against the windows on either side of the door. Could a knock even be heard over the din within? No matter—he had to try.
He waited for what seemed to be a break in the cacophony, then slammed his knuckles against the varnished wood of the door several times in rapid succession. A moment later, an aged gentlemen who looked as though he had never smiled in the whole of his life cracked open the door. “May I help you?”
Another shout, and the man did not even flinch. Definitely the butler, then. Henry lifted the bouquet of flowers in his hand and said, “I’ve come to call upon Miss Seymour.” Yet another shriek raised the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. Was someonebeingmurdered? The butler didn’t seem even the least bothered.
“Who may I say is calling?” the man inquired.
