Sera’s browsshot up. “The brother of an earl? Playing football? Inpublic? How do you know this?”
Maria blanched.“I—I don’t know. I just do.”
“Butyou do not know his name?”
“Stephen!” Triumph lit Maria’s expression. “It isStephen!”
Lord StephenFarlisle. “Is he in attendance this evening?”
Maria opened hermouth but uttered no sound. Elizabeth bit her lip.
Honestly, didshe have to do everything herself? “Lady Asterd knows everyone andeverything. Go find her.”
They scurried todo her bidding. Sera returned her contemplation to the earlpretending he did not watch Lady Lydia while she pretended she tookno notice of him at all.
In short order,Maria returned, breathless. “Lady Asterd said he attends thisevening. He is in the ballroom.”
Sera immediatelyturned her gaze to the throng. “Where?”
Maria searched.“There,” she said, pointing.
On the oppositeside of the ballroom, a lone gentleman stood, seemingly disinclinedto change that state. He was unimpressive, for all he was tall, andthough his shoulders were broad he was far too slender for herliking. His clothing was sombre and did not mould to his form, andhis unsmiling face was not handsome: his brow too high, his nosetoo bold, his jaw too strong. His mouth, however, was full andsensual, his lips plush and sulky and the only softness in thatharsh face. Blond hair did not riot in a tumble of curls as othergentlemen’s did, the short, straight strands pomaded close to hisskull. She could not determine his eye colour from this distance,but she would wager a guinea it was some shade of brown. What shadeshe would determine that upon engineering theiracquaintance.
She frowned.From the depths of her memory, she recalled him from her first—orwas it her second?—season. He had been merry and dashing andwicked, and he and his friends had delighted in thumbing theirnoses at the strictures of society. His clothing had been the pipof fashion, his hair the careless tumble of curls one could onlyachieve with hours of styling. Then he had disappeared for sometime, and talk of scandal had emerged, something about carriagesand duels and maybe even a death? The gossip had died down, as italways did, and she had promptly forgotten about him.
Until now. Now,he served a purpose. Now, he would facilitate her irritating LydiaTorrence.
Dismissing thosebarely recalled memories, she focused instead on the present. Nodoubt she would discover more as their acquaintance progressed and,if it was relevant, she would address it then.
“Where did you find Lady Asterd?” she asked.
“With the other matrons in the retiring room. Why?”
“Irequire an introduction and, as I said, Lady Asterd knowseveryone.”
Maria frowned.“But Sera, Lady Asterd does not like you.”
“Iknow.” Affecting a dazzling smile, she asked, “I am puttogether?”
Still frowning,Maria replied, “Of course.”
“Make sure we retain the grotto,” Sera instructed and then sheswept away to find Lady Asterd.
She had a man tobeguile.
Chapter Two
LORD STEPHEN FARLISLE WAS doing his level best to avoidthe Earl of Roxwaithe. It wasn’t too hard a feat. His brotherdidn’t seem inclined to associate with him either.
Exhaling, hecast his gaze around the ballroom. Usually, he avoided balls andassemblies like the plague, but the coffers of the foundation werenever deep enough and a ball might mean members of the Ton weremore inclined to reach into their pockets. If he could get them tothrow some guineas his way, he could endure an hour ortwo.
Raising hishand, he stifled a yawn. He’d been up since half five that morningand, as the clocks now rapidly approached midnight, he was battlingto stay awake. Knowing he was to attend the ball this evening, heshould have forced himself to remain in bed, but he found it hardto sleep in, his body now well used to rising with the sun. Everymorning, at a little past sunrise, he made his way out to theheath. Few milled about at that hour, and thus there were none tosee as he performed the morning exercises that had become hisroutine. He didn’t mind the stretching and running, but the shockof the water as he swam in the heath’s freezing lake was uniformlybracing. The lifting of weights, though, he truly despised. Thesepast four days, he’d neglected the exercise and he was paying forit now. If it weren’t for the fact his body would seize even more,and it would be that much harder to get himself back to half asgood, he would be thankful to never again perform such a vileexercise.
Subtly, herotated his shoulders. They were aching a little, old injuriesmaking themselves known. He’d dislocated his shoulder six monthsago on the pitch, and though it had mostly healed, it troubled himat odd moments. However, it was merely one ache amongst many, andnewer than the rest. He’d had these last seven years or more to getused to a body that didn’t always work as it should, and lingeringaches and pains that reminded him of past recklessness andstupidity.
Across from him,Lord Gray entered the ballroom. Finally, one of the reasons Stephenhad attended had arrived. Lord Gray had more wealth than he knewwhat to do with and the rumour was he would gift to anyone with ahalf-decent story.
Setting his steptoward Lord Gray, he recited yet again his appeal in his head. He’dpracticed all of yesterday and today, with variations depending onwhom he would be pitching it to. “Lord Gray,” hegreeted.
