Leaning close, he told her, “The Prince Regent has arrived.”
At her first private ball, and the man who would be king was attending!She almost wished she could hurry home and write it all down before she forgot a single detail.
“You look pensive,” Lord Mercer told her.
Trying to appear calm, she asked, “Will I meet him?”
“If you wish. Prinny adores meeting beautiful ladies.”
Lord Mercer considered her beautiful!What a treat!
When the long dance ended, they found Mrs. Cumbersome, and the three of them went in search of the Prince Regent. Lord Mercer headed into the thick of loud talk and raucous laughter in the next room, parting the throng with his determined stride. At last, he stopped in front of a tall portly man with pudgy cheeks and dressed to the nines.
“Your Royal Highness, good evening.”
“And to you, Mercer. Still enjoying civilian life, wot-wot?” The Prince Regent’s gaze had already passed off of the baron and was dancing across Miranda to her chaperone and quickly back again, fixed firmly upon her ... décolletage.
“I wish to introduce you to Miss Bright,” Lord Mercer continued. “Her father is the magistrate Sir William Bright of the Queen’s Square Court.”
“I say, is he now?” The Prince Regent held out his hand palm up, and Miranda had no choice but to place her fingers upon it. A thrill trickled through her at touching royalty, even though they both wore gloves.
“I am very pleased to meet you, Your Royal Highness.” She sank into a low curtsey, and beside her, Aunt Lucinda did the same. Miranda only hoped her aunt could rise without assistance.
When they were both standing upright again, she said, “This is my father’s only sister, Mrs. Cumbersome.”
“Is she?” But the Prince Regent’s gaze remained upon Miranda. “Youarea spruce filly.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, wondering if she was supposed to compliment him in return. That, however, seemed presumptuous.
“I thank you, Your Royal Highness.” There was already so much to write about she cursed herself for not bringing paper and pencil instead of a fan and dancing slippers.
“This one’s a good one to have in your pocket, Mercer,” the Prince Regent added, winking at her.
Miranda wasn’t sure what he meant, but she was beginning to feel like a shop display. He might be of royal blood, but he also seemed rapacious with his bold stare and knowing smile. The respectful regard of one of the law clerks who sometimes came home with her father to an evening meal seemed preferable.
How did one politely escape the presence of a prince?
The Regent solved the problem.
Turning to the baron, Prince George announced, “I tell you what, come to the card room with me for a few minutes, and then I’ll leave you alone the rest of the evening to be with this charming chicken.”
Miranda could see by the glance Lord Mercer sent her that he wasn’t entirely at ease with the prince’s arrangement.
“If you and Mrs. Cumbersome—” he began.
The Prince Regent laughed, interrupting him. “I am certain your new lady-friend and her chaperone know how to comport themselves without your instructions,Major. This isn’t a battlefield. Come along. I am tired of standing.”
With that, the Regent nodded to Miranda and to her aunt, and they both sank into another curtsey before he turned away, moving with a slight limp.
“Gout,” Aunt Lucinda whispered into her ear.
“I shall return as soon as I can,” Lord Mercer promised before strolling after Prince George.
“The Regent behaves as if he were already a king,” Miranda said after they’d returned to their place by the tall windows in the ballroom. “And not a modern king, either.”
Her aunt made tutting sounds, but then she began to survey the room.
“Don’t fret over Prince George’s childish manners,” Aunt Lucinda said. “Let’s get you partnered for the next dance.”
