“Ihavea partner,” she said. “Lord Wesley. Excuse me or I shall miss him. Come, Harriet. I can’t wander alone.” And she grabbed her friend’s hand.
They left the feckless Lord Beaumont behind.What a nuisance!However, if she begged off dancing using the only excuse she was allowed, not feeling up to it, then she would be prohibited from partnering with anyone else all night. She’d learned that rule from Philip on the way to her very first private ball.
With the threat of such a terrible price, she accepted the inevitable and waited for him to ask her politely.
He stared at her then said, “I thought you were Mercer’s lady-friend.”
Her glance darted to Aunt Lucinda, who looked confounded.
“Young man,” her aunt said, not caring she was addressing an earl’s son, “my niece is not anyone’slady-friend. If you have an interest in courting her, then you should ask her to dance, and tomorrow, you may come calling at her father’s home during civilized hours. I warn you her line of suitors grows longer with each ball.”
Miranda wanted to cheer her aunt’s diatribe. And while she was correct, more suitors were showing up each time they held visiting hours, compared to what she’d seen at Lady Harriet’s, her own collection of calling cards was quite modest.
Lord Beaumont appeared only slightly impressed. He glanced at Miranda as if seeing her for the first time.
“Will you do me the honor?” Yet somehow he made “honor” sound like a chore.
“The honor?” she echoed, wanting to hear him ask properly. And he had best be quick since the bell had already rung forLa Belle Assemblée, and dancers were gathering for the first contra-dance. She half-hoped Philip would return and sweep her away.
Lord Beaumont sighed as if she were a simpleton. “Will you do me the honor of the first dance?”
How Miranda longed to say no.
She sighed even more loudly than he had done. When he realized she was mocking him, he narrowed his eyes, straightened, and stood a little taller. More respectfully, he awaited her response.
Finally, she gave in. “Yes, I will.”
While dancing, as they wove in and out and up and down the line, she looked for Lord Mercer. He must have left the ballroom for the card room.A pity!There was nothing quite like dancing with him.
Except rolling around on a bed with him.
When the long, first dance ended, Lord Beaumont was only too happy to deposit her with her aunt. Miranda couldn’t help but wonder why the brother was boorish when his sister had welcomed her into a fast friendship.
“Another gentleman asked to dance with you,” Aunt Lucinda said almost as Miranda’s bottom touched the velvet seat. “Here he comes.”
Miranda rose again with little interest. When she was returned to her aunt the second time, she wished it was already the fifth and final dance.
“Remember,” her aunt said, “any man you meet may become your husband. Isn’t that exciting?”
She stifled a yawn and went off with her next partner, Lord Holland to whom Philip had introduced her weeks earlier.
PHILIP HAD STAYED AWAY as long as he could, but the notion of shirking his duty had grown until he couldn’t concentrate on the cards and had lost two hands in a row. He simply needed to see Miranda was well and hopefully having a good time.
Mrs. Cumbersome was alone.
“Before you start fussing,” she said, “my niece is on the dance floor, and I can see her.”
He smiled.When had he become the more cautious of the two of them?
Taking a seat, he waited for Miranda to be escorted back. The smile she gave him as she approached unexpectedly tugged at his heart. He rose, having never expected to grow so damnable fond of the chit. More than that. He preferred her company to that of anyone else.
“Thank you for the dance,” she told the swell who held her arm.
“No, the pleasure was all mine. May I call upon you tomorrow?”
“Yes, you may.”
Philip was glad the man released her and left as soon as he did. The prickly annoyance he felt seeing her with him was unwelcome and utterly unreasonable. After all, she was supposed to dance with these bucks and even choose from among them.
