From the first moment Purity spotted her “challenge,” she nearly called it off. His attire was all wrong for the occasion.Strange!She was sure he’d been appropriately dressed both at Lansdowne House and at the Fenwicks’ party.
Now, however, not only was his hair mussed, but he also wore fawn-colored trousers as if out for a daytime jaunt rather than the desired black or, at the very least, a dark blue or gray check. Worse, his cravat was neither black nor white, nor did his waistcoat match anything. Instead, the former was pale blue, and the latter was a garish clashing vest in orange and black brocade. And no sign of a tailcoat but instead a frock coat.
Her poor eyes!
When he spotted her, he lifted a hand and waved before exclaiming loudly, “Lady Purity, well met.”
She might have been imagining it, but it seemed a hush fell over the bustling, noisy ballroom, and all eyes turned toward him. Upon seeing where he was looking, the heads swiveled in her direction.
“Who is that?” her mother, Caroline Diamond, asked. “And why is he calling out your name like a farmer to his pigs?”
“He is Lord Foxford.”
“The baron recently returned from France?” Clearly, her mother had read the papers.
“Yes, Mother. I was partnered with him at Lord and Lady Fenwick’s dinner party.”
“I see. We had best go in his direction before he starts hollering again. Perhaps he doesn’t know anyone else.”
“Perhaps he was raised in a forest by wolves,” Purity muttered.
Her mother chuckled. Foxford met them halfway and stared rudely.
“Is this your sister you mentioned, the one who makes people happy?”
Purity sighed softly.Hadn’t she warned him about offering flummery?
Such overt flattery worked only on the very young who didn’t know it for a jest or on the extremely aged who understood it as a game. Since her mother, the countess, was neither, it was insulting.
Yet because Caroline Diamond was well-bred, she gave the merest disapproving shake of her head.
“Lord Foxford,” Purity began, “may I present my mother, Lady Diamond?”
“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied.
Without waiting for her mother to offer her hand, he reached out and snatched it, drawing it to him so swiftly, he yankedher a step closer. Then he kissed her gloved hand with a loud smacking of his lips.
Her mother glanced at Purity with her lovely green eyes wide.
“What a different apple each of you are and yet from the same tree,” Foxford said. “A flaming redhead and a crow’s wing of a daughter. One can almost wonder if she is really yours.”
“Did you grow up in England?” Lady Diamond asked.
“Why, yes,” Foxford replied, cocking his head curiously.
“Then I cannot imagine how a man of your standing could be so much of a spoony loggerhead. I wish you well, my lord.”
With that, Lady Diamond strolled away to greet her friends. Purity would have to follow soon, but she would first take him to task.
“Have you forgotten all the bread-and-butter fashion for dress and for greeting?”
“Not forgotten, I fear, but never learned.” He looked chagrined. “How will I get a wife to carry on the barony and bear me an heir?”
“You see,” Purity declared. “That is an unacceptable topic.”
“Not between us, surely. I feel as though I can say anything to you, kitten.”
“But you may not,” she informed him. “Moreover, I am not confident I can help. You appear not to know the basic harmony of fashion, such pleasant agreement being the soul of elegance. A lady of thetonwill, at the very least, expect you to cut a bosh figure.”
