Paterson made a sputtering sound. He straightened, shoulders thrown back. “Now, see here, I am not a coward and I won’t stand for being called one.”
Robert slapped Paterson on the back, hard enough to rock him forward onto his toes. “Wonderful. I knew I could count on you. Come along, then. We’ll go stand near the dance floor.” Where he could keep an eye on Campbell. “So she won’t miss us when they’re done with their set.”
He led the still sputtering Paterson back to where he’d introduced Miss Glasbarr to Campbell. They spoke idly while they waited for the set to conclude. Paterson was every bit as boring as Robert recalled.
After an interminable length of time, during which Robert concluded the musicians had seen fit to play lengthier pieces than usual, her set with Campbell ended. He proffered his arm with a familiarity Robert couldn’t approve of and escorted her back. They chatted brightly as they approached. As far as he could ascertain, their conversation was, of all things, about horse breeds.
“Miss Glasbarr,” Robert said as soon as they drew near. “This is Mister Paterson. He’s requested the next set.”
“M-Miss…G-Glas…” Paterson concluded his stuttering with a bow.
Miss Glasbarr gave no reaction to Paterson’s inability to properly address her, and she curtsied. “That would be lovely, Mister Paterson. Thank you.”
He offered his arm. Miss Glasbarr cast Robert a quick smile before permitting Paterson to lead her back toward the other dancers.
“Well put together little piece, isn’t she?” Campbell said as he watched her go.
Robert shrugged. He tried to tamp down the anger sparked by Campbell’s too-familiar scrutiny of Miss Glasbarr’s retreating form.
“I can see why Dunreid claimed her,” Campbell continued. “And why she doesn’t want him. She’s got an active mind, too, does that one.”
“You expect me to believe you assessed the quality of her mind while dancing and staring down the front of her dress?”
Campbell grinned. “If God didn’t want gentlemen to look down ladies’ fronts, he wouldn’t have made us the taller sex.” He gave Robert a slap on the back and chuckled at his own joke.
Robert made no reply, attention on the dancers. The set was a collection of slow, careful dances. As impossible as it seemed, Miss Glasbarr appeared to speak with Paterson quite amiably throughout. This strange circumstance was confirmed when the third dance in the set ended and he escorted her back. Robert could hear them conversing on the British Museum as they returned. Even worse than Paterson’s newfound ability to put more than three words together was the besotted look he leveled on Miss Glasbarr.
The situation only grew worse after that. Apparently other men thought that if Paterson could ignore Dunreid’s claim and dance with Miss Glasbarr, any gentleman could, the cretins flocked to her. Robert was soon relegated to the fringe of the group of men that engulfed her. Campbell, immune to Robert’s glower, took up his role and introduce her to newcomers.
Finally, near midnight, Robert decided Miss Glasbarr had met enough gentlemen for one evening. He was sick near to death of watching so-called men, who’d been too fearful before, dance with her now. Even after so brief an acquaintance, he was certain she deserved better than a coward. Worse, the majority of the men who’d approached her were complete oafs. If she couldn’t have brave men, she should at least have the pleasure of skilled partners.
He resisted to urge to escort her out a second time, to show the lot of them how to properly dance with a lovely young woman. He wouldn’t do her any good by partnering with her twice in one night. Not if she wanted to find a husband among the assembled gentlemen, though not a one of the louts deserved her. Of course, who she settled on wasn’t truly his concern, so long as she didn’t settle on Dunreid.
The next time she was escorted from the dance floor, Robert circled the waiting group of men and met her before she reached them. He offered his arm. With a quick farewell to her partner, she placed elegant fingers on his sleeve. Robert steered them away from her admirers.
“It’s nearly midnight,” he observed in a low voice.
“So soon?” She glanced about, a slight frown marring her features.
“Shall I escort you to the front hall?” Robert nodded in the direction many of the other young women were headed. Pastel ruffles swishing about them, they resembled nothing so much as one of Mary Moser’s acclaimed paintings.
“That would be very kind of you.”
Relieved at her ready acquiescence, he angled them toward the front of the ballroom. “Did you enjoy your evening?”
“I did, and thank you for your assistance.” Her dispirited tone belied her words.
“But?” Her obvious displeasure reassured him. He was pleased she realized the unsuitability of the flock of gentleman, rather than being buoyed by their unworthy attentions.
She shrugged delicate shoulders. “They danced with me, which really was delightful, but I don’t believe a single one will pursue me. They’re still afraid of him.”
Robert nodded. She was likely correct, which only proved their lack of worth, but he was there to find her a gentleman. He meant to meet that obligation. He wouldn’t consign her to choose between Dunreid or no man. What more could he do to thwart the viscount? “A carriage ride.” The offer was out before he could restrain the words. He hadn’t taken a carriage ride in the park since Cinthia’s betrayal.
“I beg your pardon?”
He contained a grimace. Apparently, he enjoyed making himself miserable. “Let me take you for a carriage ride tomorrow afternoon. A few turns about the park. You can meet a greater variety of gentlemen. He can’t have cowed every man in Edinburgh.”
She smiled up at him, too sweet and too young for any man he knew. Why, with her only just completing finishing school, he must have seven or so years on her.
