“I say, after this dance, let’s share a pint, eh?” continued Dickey.
“You are annoying me,” he growled. It was the only warning the man would get.
Both ladies reacted. Their eyes widened, and Miss Allen’s lips curved in delight. There was no repressing her spirit, but he admired the reserved lady more. Miss Spalding looked at Dickey who remained oblivious to his peril and then returned her gaze to Reuben. If he was guessed correctly—and he usually did—she was silently asking him to not make a scene.
Unfortunately, he could not comply. He’d already warned Dickey, and he never did such a thing twice. Though, with luck, the boor would leave him alone throughout the rest of this dance.
A new group of four formed, as was part of the dance, and he was treated to the frankly curious stares of a very young debutante and her haughty partner. Neither tried to speak with him. He was used to such things. But the gentleman was even colder to Miss Allen, and that was beyond rude. So when it was his turn to spin the young girl around, he smiled his most charming smile at her. She blushed prettily, and he whispered to her.
“Your partner isn’t nearly as rich as he pretends.” It was the truth, but it was also a lie. Nearly everyone here pretended to possess exaggerated wealth. Her particular partner had thick nest egg of blunt—probably the source of his attitude—but it wasn’t limitless. And it wasn’t going to last if he continued to alienate every man, woman, and underling in his circle.
The girl’s eyes widened, and she dipped her chin. Message received, and he’d possibly saved her from a very unhappy future with an obnoxious man. He winked at her and turned his attention back to Miss Spalding.
Er, Miss Allen. Miss Sadie Allen was his partner, not Miss Spalding who was suffering through the missteps of another boorish gentleman. Meanwhile, Miss Allen was sizing him up with a perceptive gaze.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Dancing?”
“Trying to make them like you.” She sighed as they walked around each other. “I have to. You don’t.”
But he did, more’s the pity. “Why are you here? There are plenty of Scotsmen who would snatch you up.”
She shrugged as they stepped back. The central couple was swinging their way down the two lines. It would appear she didn’t intend to answer. Or if she did, he missed it as Miss Spalding caught his eye again. She was looking beyond him to the people along the wall. Her expression was serene as a lady’s ought to be, but he knew to look at more than just the face. Her movements were stiff and slightly distracted.
Which meant something was happening behind him.
“I am sure you would find my sister’s ball delightful,” Dickey said, much too loudly.
Idiot. Reuben was going to carve that on the man’s headstone. But rather than give any kind of clue as to his thoughts, he smiled benignly at the man. The couple was coming down the center, the woman linking arms with every gentleman in the line and spinning around before passing on to the next. Even better, the woman was Lady Rebecca, one of his targets for this evening.
His timing would need to be perfect…
He grabbed Lady Rebecca and spun her around with an appropriate amount of force. Then she did a quick spin around the ladies’ line before coming back to catch Dickey’s arm. She did it just as she ought. Dickey, however, tripped over a well-placed boot.
The idiot went sprawling. Reuben, on the other hand, caught the spinning, off-balanced woman. Lady Rebecca landed neatly in his arms. She was light and compliant as he lifted her up and out of Dickey’s way. She gasped in surprise and looked up at him with startled gratitude on her young face. He set her on her feet then bowed deeply before her.
“How dare you!” Dickey screeched from the floor. “You tripped me!”
A female voice interrupted his tirade with a hard scold. “It’s a poor dancer who blames his thick feet on someone else.”
The words were tart and exactly something that Miss Allen would say. But when he looked up, he realized it was Miss Spalding, her hands on her hips and her expression annoyed. “My feet are bruised from you, as are nearly every lady’s here.” She looked up to the miss still clinging to Reuben’s arm. “Are you all right, Lady Rebecca?”
The girl smiled. “I am, thanks to Mr. Bates.”
“He is quick on his feet,” Miss Spalding agreed. Then she threw up her hands. “Well, that’s done then. An entire dance ruined.” She looked to Miss Allen. “Do you wish some lemonade?”
“Pray, allow me to get it for you and Lady Rebecca as well,” Reuben said, neatly stepping over Dickey as he escorted the ladies away. They rewarded him by smiling sweetly. Miss Allen took his arm, but it was Miss Spalding who gently steered them around.
What he saw on the other side of the room had his heart sinking to his feet. Host, hostess, and a veritable army of footmen stood there, all ready to throw him out. Damnation. His gamble had failed and now he was taking these ladies down with him.
Unless he could bring Lady Rebecca into his clutches. She was young enough to be enticed. So he caught the young girl’s elbow just as she was heading back to her mother.
“Lady Rebecca, if I may, would you please honor me by walking in Hyde Park with me?” Then to make her understand that he wasn’t making a play for her specifically—which would surely be rebuffed—he gestured to Miss Spalding and Miss Allen as well. “Perhaps we could all go? As an afternoon lark.” He winked at Miss Allen, knowing that she was the one most likely to be amused by his antics.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Lady Rebecca demurred, glancing nervously toward her mother.
“We won’t go during the fashionable hour,” he quickly offered. “Just three beautiful ladies and myself, out for a stroll before the others spoil everything. Shall we say three o’clock?”
