Lady A was the most sought-after dance partner at the Marechals’ mansion, wearing a stunning burgundy-colored gown…
Adelia had to hand it to herself. After the wave of unexpected partners had washed over her and she’d discovered her dance card was full, she’d given herself a stern talking to. For Lord Burnley’s sake, she would either ask outright or feign the need for each and every man’s kerchief. Moreover, she’d quickly discovered how to dissuade a gentleman from asking for its return.
As she switched partners, she’d pulled the handkerchief swiftly from her décolletage and stuffed it between the slit in the side of her gown and deep into her pocket. When this became full, she had gone to the ladies’ retiring room and began stowing them in her drawers. It wasn’t entirely comfortable but not awful either.
As soon as she’d arrived home, which, unusually for her, was in the wee hours of the morning, she’d pulled the handkerchiefs out and flattened them prior to refolding each into a small square.
Now, she yearned to know what Owen was up to.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Mr. Lockley announced the viscount’s arrival as soon as polite visiting hours began, at eleven, and she met him in the drawing room. In a nod to propriety, she had Penny in tow, lest her faithful servants start to gossip.
With elegance, his lordship took her hand, bowed over it, and released her.
“I appreciate your seeing me uninvited, Lady Adelia.”
“I was expecting you, my lord. I’ve kept the kerchiefs hidden. Otherwise, my chambermaid would have had quite the wrong impression of me, receiving so many men’s favors.”
He hesitated, then he smiled. “That is the longest string of words I have heard you utter, my lady. Also, I believe you made a bit of a joke.”
She felt her cheeks warm. He was correct. What’s more, she had spoken without worrying about stuttering, without worrying at all, in fact. Each time she met and spoke with Owen, she found it easier to converse.
She gestured to the basket on the side table.
“You may have the basket,” she began, thinking he would take it home with the contents intact. But he pounced upon it and lifted the lid. Swiftly, he undid all the tidying she had done, snapping open each handkerchief with a flick and examining it for the briefest time before tossing it upon the settee. As he progressed through the contents, he sighed.
When he got to the last one, he stared at it for a long moment. It had afleur de lispattern all around the border.
She watched him sink onto the seat cushion amongst the discarded handkerchiefs and close his eyes, still clutching the last one.
Worrying her lower lip with her teeth, thinking he didn’t look at all pleased, at last, she asked, “Is that the one you sought?”
He shook his head. “No.” His tone was flat.
“I’m sorry,” she offered.
He looked up, and then, to her surprise, rather than jumping to his feet as most gentlemen would when a lady remained standing, he brushed aside some of the cloth squares and patted the sofa cushion beside him.
What could she do?She sat. Unfortunately, he was on the side of her bad ear. She had to turn and face him, so his words could reach her easily.
“I must appear to you as a lunatic,” Owen began.
She shook her head.
“That’s kind of you. But if you will allow me, I shall explain.”
She nodded and folded her hands in her lap. If he needed to unburden himself, she would be grateful to know. Otherwise, she would have wondered for the rest of her life.
“My sister,” he began, “did you know her?”
“I’m sorry to say, I did not.”
He nodded slightly. “You were a debutante ahead of her, and she went away to France.”
“I saw her this year,” Adelia added. “She was lovely.”
“Thank you. She would have been always on the dance floor as you were last night.”
