“If Mr. Delafield truly wanted to dance with me, he’d have asked to add his name to my dance card when I ran across him in the receiving line. However, since he didn’t broach the topic of dancing then, I’m certain he won’t suffer any lasting ill effects when he realizes I’ve disappeared during a dance he only grudgingly agreed to in the first place.”
“Mr. Delafield wouldn’t need to suffer at all if you’d set aside your mortification and rejoin the festivities.”
“I’m looking at my most recent calamity not as an incident where I need to hide myself away because of embarrassment but as a convenient excuse to indulge in something I genuinely enjoy—reading. I’m in the middle of a book about mummies, which I’m sure I’ll find more satisfying than dreading the approach of gentlemen who’ve been pressed into requesting the honor of dancing with me, which they never feel is an honor.”
“I’m certain many of the gentlemen who’ve needed a touch of convincing to waltz you about a room find themselves completely charmed with your company after a dance is completed.”
“Mycharmis exactly why those gentlemen never ask for a second dance in any given evening.”
Phyllis released a sigh. “I’m sure they’d be only too happy to do so if you allowed them to know you’d enjoy a second dance.”
“I discontinued doing that during my first Season out after I mentioned to Mr. Harold Seward that I enjoyed dancing the Star Quadrille, which was scheduled after dinner that evening.” Adelaide gave a sad shake of her head. “The moment I was done speaking, Mr. Seward began hemming and hawing about how he was committed to other ladies for the remainder of the ball. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough, and to this day, he’s never invited me to dance with him again.”
Phyllis’s lips thinned. “It was not well done of Harold to treat you so shoddily, especially during your first Season out.”
“Harold Seward did me a favor because he showed me, as nothing else could, that I was never going to be considered a diamond of the first water, nor considered any type of catch, except for the most desperate of fortune-hunters, whom I’ve sufficiently dissuaded over the years by using that charm you just mentioned. But enough about my lack of success within society. It doesn’t bother me, which means it shouldn’t bother you either.”
“I only want to see you happy.”
“Iamhappy, just not the particular type of happy you want me to be. However, because I know you’re going to fret about me removing myself from the festivities, know that I won’t read for the entirety of Mrs. Nelson’s dinner party. Rest assured, you’ll see me make an appearance for the midnight supper. I’m bound to be ravenous by then, and I certainly won’t want to linger in that regrettable state.”
Phyllis began fiddling with the buttons on one of her silkevening gloves. “I suppose that’s somewhat reassuring, but you must at least allow me to convince Mrs. Nelson to rearrange your seating at dinner. She has you sitting between Mr. Vernon Clarkson and Mr. Leopold Pendleton. Those two gentlemen are not suitable dinner partners because they’re positively ancient.”
“Au contraire.I enjoy Mr. Clarkson’s and Mr. Pendleton’s company. They’re amusing and adore regaling me with stories about the adventures they experienced in their youth.”
“It would be more helpful if you’d be amused by the exploits of a younger gentleman, one who is currently experiencing those escapades instead of having done them fifty years ago.”
“If only there were any young, adventurous gentlemen who longed to sit beside me at dinner parties.”
“We’ll never discover the answer to that if you refuse to allow me to meddle with seating assignments.”
“No meddling, and with that out of the way, I’m off to read my book. You may at least take comfort in knowing that reading should not allow me to experience any additional shocking incidents this evening.”
“That’s small comfort, especially when the topic of your unmentionables is going to be fodder for wagging tongues for the foreseeable future.” Phyllis brushed a piece of lint from Adelaide’s gown. “Half the guests in attendance tonight will be repairing to the city soon, whispering behind gloved hands about your latest incident.”
“You could take some comfort in the fact that Cousin Charles saved me earlier from plunging into the backyard fountain,” Adelaide said. “Society would have been even more aflutter if I’d suffered two catastrophes in one evening.”
“You never mentioned almost falling into a fountain.”
Adelaide scratched her nose. “I didn’t see the point because Charles saved me from a drenching, although ... if he hadn’t saved me, that might have been a less embarrassing incidentto suffer through since I would have been left sopping wet, which would have given me the perfect excuse to return home early.”
“That still would have left tongues wagging, but why were you and Charles in the back courtyard to begin with? His mother, your dear aunt Petunia, is determined to see him wed in the next year. He’ll hardly be successful with that if he takes to lurking out of sight during society events.”
“Charles is making himself scarce because Miss Jennie Gibson is in attendance tonight. Aunt Petunia is apparently of the belief Jennie would be the perfect match for him.”
“And I’m in full agreement with that because Jennie Gibson is completely darling and is well on her way to being declared an Incomparable in the coming Season.”
“And that right there is why Charles is hesitant to even approach the lady. Incomparables have made it a habit to give him a wide berth, which is why he’ll continue skulking by the fountain unless Aunt Petunia manages to track him down.”
“You know she’ll ask me if I’ve seen him.”
“But since you haven’t seen him—merely heard me mentioning where he is—you can have a clear conscience telling your sister that you haven’t taken note of him all evening.” Adelaide began moving down the hallway, sticking her head into a room that, unfortunately, had three gentlemen gathered by a far window, their heads bent together and looking quite as if they were discussing matters of business.
“Perhaps you should suggest to Charles that he consider hiring a matchmaker, as so many gentlemen did over the Newport Season,” Phyllis said after Adelaide backed her way out of the room and began wandering down the hallway again.
Adelaide slowed to a stop, this time underneath a portrait of a well-dressed lady with a pampered poodle sitting on a chaise beside her. “There’s no point in doing that because Gwendolyn, the only matchmaker Charles finds remotely approachable, hasdecided to set aside any future matchmaking endeavors and embrace her life as the new Mrs. Walter Townsend.”
“Which is regrettable, given the tremendous success Gwendolyn enjoyed during the summer.” Phyllis fiddled with the clasp of the diamond bracelet encircling her wrist. “I’m still holding out hope that she’ll realize she’s destined to make one last match before she hangs up her matchmaking gloves for good.”
