“What are the rules?” the American asked bluntly as soon as they found a place to stand in front of the draperies. Chairs were lined up along the walls, but it was too early to want to sit.
“We are each upon our honor expected to dance with many,” Charlotte recited.
“Is that from the same preachyLady’s Bookyou mentioned before?”
Charlotte grinned. “Don’t be a wallflower, Bea, but you must still dance with those to whom you’ve been properly introduced.” Then she frowned. “Although I think they are allowed to introduce themselves in this instance.”
They all considered that a moment, realized the absurdity, and started to chuckle.
“What I am gathering,” Mr. Carson said, “is we shall do more talking in groups and less making the rounds and dashing off to secure partners? Each dance is a new opportunity for humiliation or triumph? It makes it a little more interesting.”
“More nerve-wracking, you mean,” Beatrice said with a huff. “What a silly idea, having us fend for ourselves and secure a partner for each dance as it comes. I shall be on tenterhooks all evening.”
“I shall not let you be without a partner when you wish to dance,” Mr. Carson said softly beside her, and she glanced at him. Their gazes locked, and she relaxed.
“Pish,” Charlotte said. “Beatrice won’t let you sacrifice your own evening of wife-hunting to nanny her. Will you?”
Beatrice nearly snarled at her to mind her own business. However, Charlotte was right. “Of course not. Mr. Carson, if you are free and I am free, then I will enjoy dancing with you as always. However, you must endeavor to secure your own partners among the many titled ladies here tonight.”
“Oh, I shall,” he promised. “I may start with our hostess. She seems to be about my age, wouldn’t you agree?”
They tried not to laugh. “Promise me,” Charlotte said, “if I ever try to look thirty years younger than I am, you will stop me.”
“I promise,” Beatrice said. “I would never leave you open to such ridicule. I wonder she doesn’t have a friend or loved one to suggest neither her make-up nor her low-cut décolletage do her any kindness.”
“Then you don’t approve of my trying to secure her as my bride?” Mr. Carson asked.
“She is certainly titled,” Charlotte said, then lost interest as she spied a parade of servants entering with laden trays. “Oh, they are bringing in champagne at the start. This is a different kind of ball.”
Yet Beatrice had a prickling of alarm, even as they each took a glass of the bubbling French beverage off the tray.Should she give voice to her concern?Luckily, Charlotte chose that moment to spy a new friend.
“I met her at Amity’s ball. I shall say hello and return shortly.” Then she stopped. “Mr. Carson, will you please escort me to my friend?”
He looked startled, and Beatrice cocked her head in question.
Charlotte shrugged. “I’m trying to be on my best behavior. The etiquette book says I am not to wander around alone, and that men are to do any reasonable favor a lady asks.”
“Of course,” he said, taking her arm.
“Don’t talk about treacle toffee,” Beatrice warned, too late as her sister was already steps away. Mr. Carson looked over his shoulder making a funny face at her for this rather silly nod to etiquette. After all, he had but to take Charlotte a few yards to reach the other group of young ladies.
Beatrice watched him greet each of them in turn with Charlotte doing the introductions. It was for the best, Beatrice supposed, as he could now ask any of them to dance.
“Don’t worry,” Mr. Carson said, as soon as he returned to her. “I’m sure she will comport herself well.”
Beatrice could only roll her eyes and hope. But now they were alone, she could voice her question.
“You won’t get yourself a wife for her title alone, will you?”
Clearly, he was taken aback. Then he smiled, and her heart seemed to skip a beat at the sight of it.
“You didn’t think I was serious about the dowager, did you?”
“No,” she snapped, “of course not. You ninny!”So, what was troubling her?“I wouldn’t want you to ... to settle for less than what my sister and her husband have, merely for the sake of a title.”How personal that sounded. “Not that it’s any of my business,” she added quickly.
“Why, Miss Rare-Foure, are you worrying for my future?”
He was teasing her again, but she simply couldn’t find it in her to make a jest in return. Admitting to herself she had very strong feelings for the man was hard and humbling enough. However, if he was determined to be with a lady who might not appreciate him as she did, then he had better at least love that woman like the devil loved sinners.
