Miss Peck lifted her fan, which matched the plumage in her hair, and attempted a coy look from over the edge. It was not her best effort, but David supposed it was difficult to flirt when one was dressed as an overstuffed pigeon.
“And does the rascal Dick Turpin plan on stealing the hearts of any ladies tonight?” asked Miss Peck.
David laughed at that. “Is a certain swallow hoping to entrance me with her plumage?”
Miss Peck gaped, her eyes sparking with humor as she snapped her fan closed and reached over to whack his arm with it. However, as feathers added so much to the length, the young lady missed her aim, only hitting David with the downy tips and not the hard skeleton beneath.
“You wretched man,” she said with mock affront. “You know I am a peacock and not a swallow.”
“But you are dressed in bright plumage, and as it is male peacocks and female swallows who are thusly adorned, I stand by my comment,” replied David with a grin.
Miss Peck glanced at the naval captain, and the fellow gave her a chagrined smile.
“It is true,” he said. “Though I will add, Mr. Turpin, that female swallows are often brown as well. In the animal kingdom, males are often more brightly colored than females.”
Her teasing expression fell, and Miss Peck glanced down at the swaths of blue and green fabric draped about her person. Dropping her head, she held her fan up to her face to hide her laughter.
“I suppose I did not think my costume through, gentlemen.”
“Yes, but—” began David, but a hand at his elbow had him stopping as he turned to see his mother standing there. She was easily identifiable, as she eschewed a costume and gave only a passing nod to the masquerade with a mask stick, which seemed entirely useless, as it only covered the face when one wished to cover it.
Mother said not a word, but then, she didn’t need to do so when she looked at him in that manner. All raised brows and questioning eyes—it was an expression David knew all too well. Giving the others his excuses, he allowed himself to be dragged away.
“Do you know Mr. Gould?” she whispered, glancing at David for the barest of moments before turning her eyes back to where she’d come from, and he followed the movement to see two of his sisters standing together with a gentleman. Although Clarissa was the most talkative of the trio, the gentleman’s attention was fixed on Irene, who was smiling brightly back at him.
“I do not.” However, that would not remain for long. “Who introduced him?”
“The Leggatts.”
The tension in his shoulders eased. “That speaks well of the fellow then. They wouldn’t encourage an introduction if Mr. Gould was a bounder. However, I will ask around.”
David’s gaze drifted to the dancers, and he spied Flora with Mr. Kellen, which was far more disconcerting than the mysterious Mr. Gould. Though he was not well-acquainted with the Kellens, the rumors surrounding their heir were enough to give any brother indigestion.
“He was quite determined to secure an introduction,” said Mother, nodding at Mr. Kellen as her fingers worried the stick of her mask. “Your father wasn’t concerned, but I do not feel easy around him.”
And rightly so, though David wasn’t about to speak those thoughts out loud. The tightness to her eyes and lips said enough that any troubling news might shatter the last of her nerves. What had Father been thinking? But that answer was easy enough: he hadn’t.
“Do not worry, Mother.” David forced a warm smile and nodded towards his sisters. “Look after them, and I will find out more about this Mr. Gould.”
Brows pulling tighter together, Mother nodded but didn’t move. Shifting in place, she drew in a breath and shook her head. “I hate to be a bother, but your father has been at the card tables for some time now…”
A genuine grin grew at that. “The Tates are not allowing high stakes, so if he loses, he cannot lose much.”
But for all that his words ought to have comforted the lady, Mother’s muscles were strung taut, and if her mask had been made of fabric, it would’ve likely been shredded with the way her hands worried the wood.
“I will keep a weather eye on him,” said David. “Go, enjoy the evening with the girls. Leave Father to me.”
Granted, he had no intention of speaking to Mr. Thaddeous Archer. With penny stakes, the man could do far less damage than if he were left to wander the ballroom and chat up the gentlemen who were occupied with speculating. No doubt, they’d have him purchasing farmland in South America or investing in canals to nowhere. Again.
“Of course.” She nodded and some of the strain eased from her features, though that ever-present concern remained in her gaze. “You always know what’s best.”
“Trust me, Mother. I will manage it all,” he said, nudging her towards her daughters.
With great reluctance, and a few more prods, she drifted off back to her previous position, and David shifted his shoulders to ease the tension, though it did no good. Drawing in a breath, he tried to clear his mind, but with the magic of the evening broken, and thoughts of upcoming meetings with mill owners, the workers’ wages, and the vacillating economy swarmed him. With the addition of Mr. Gould and Mr. Kellen.
David had already done as much as he could to secure healthy dowries for his sisters, but perhaps it was time to be more assertive in marrying them off. Mother was doing her best, but he could nudge good gentlemen into their paths. Not that Agatha’s nuptials had done anything to alleviate David’s burden. Now, he had to keep an eye on her husband and his business ventures as well. But surely, securing the girls good husbands like Ezra Endicott would limit the megrim he was taking on with each addition to the family.
Pain pulsed at the back of his skull, and David tucked his pistol away in his sash and rubbed at the throbbing point, though it did nothing to alleviate the pressure building there. Adding Mr. Gould and Mr. Kellen to his ever-growing list of things to manage later, David drew in a deep breath and focused on the room around him.
