Lucy turned a curious eye on her cousin. Eloisa sounded positively breathless, and her gaze was still riveted on Lady Felicia’s tall, broad-shouldered brother. Lucy could hardly blame her. Lord Vale was a handsome, dashing creature, the sort of gentleman who’d turn any lady’s head.
“Lady Lucinda, and Miss Jarvis.” Lady Felicia and her two gallants stopped in front of them. “How do you do? I’m ever so pleased to see you both again.” Lady Felicia offered them each a shy smile, then waved a dainty hand toward her companions. “You know my brother, Lord Vale. This gentleman is our friend, Lord Markham.”
“How do you do?” Lord Markham’s stern face softened, and he bowed politely.
“Lady Lucinda, and Miss Jarvis.” Lord Vale bent over each of their hands in turn, a flirtatious smile on his handsome face.
“Lord Vale. Lord Markham.” Lucy and Eloisa nodded at the gentlemen, then Eloisa gestured to her mother. “This is my mother, Mrs. Jarvis.”
Both gentlemen and Lady Felicia greeted Aunt Jarvis. She looked rather terrified to be so suddenly thrust into such elevated company, but she managed an awkward nod.
“I owe you each a debt of gratitude for entertaining my sister at her dancing lesson yesterday,” Lord Vale said, turning back to Eloisa and Lucy. “I can’t say if her dancing has improved, but she certainly enjoyed herself.”
Lucy felt heat rising in her cheeks and stifled a groan. Lady Felicia was fair-haired like her brother, with wide blue eyes and a sweet face. She was dainty, graceful, and danced like an angel. If Lord Vale thought his sister’s quadrille needed improvement, he’d swoon with horror when he saw Lucy’s. Her humiliation at Monsieur Guilland’s hands would be nothing in comparison.
Well then, she was determined to remain a wallflower, no matter how much it might irritate Uncle Jarvis. No matter what, she refused to set a single toe onto the dance floor this evening—
“Do you care to dance, Lady Lucinda?” Lord Vale turned to her with an extravagant bow and held out his hand, that same teasing smile toying with his lips.
Lucy glanced at the dance floor, saw groups of four couples arranging themselves into a square formation, and smothered another groan. A cotillion? For pity’s sake, that was worse than the quadrille!
She winced, and gave Lord Vale an apologetic look. “I, ah…you’re very kind, Lord Vale, but I’m…” she leaned closer and lowered her voice. “The truth, my lord, is I’m a perfectly dreadful dancer. Perhaps we can dance together at the next ball, after I’ve had a few more lessons?”
Lord Vale gaped at her in amazement, but just when Lucy was certain she’d done something horribly rude, he tossed his head back with a hearty laugh. “Such refreshing honesty! Very well, Lady Lucinda. I won’t trouble you now, but I’ll hold you to your pledge and have my dance very soon.”
“Yes, I promise.” Lucy beamed up at him. Lady Felicia had hinted her brother was a flirt and a bit of a rogue, but he had such a playful, open smile Lucy couldn’t imagine anyone not liking him.
Lord Vale turned and offered his hand to Eloisa. “Miss Jarvis? Will you do me the honor?”
Eloisa’s face colored prettily, and she took the hand he offered. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Take care of my sister, eh Markham?” Vale tossed over his shoulder as he led Eloisa off to join the other dancers. “There’s no telling what sort of mischief she’ll get up to if she’s bored.”
“Yes, she does so hate to be bored. How may I entertain you, my lady?” Lord Markham turned a lazy smile on Lady Felicia. He was fond of her—anyone could see that. His smile was affectionate, even doting, but it was the sort of careless fondness usually reserved for adorable children and overeager puppies.
Lucy’s eyebrows rose.Well, how odd.
Lady Felicia was lovely, sophisticated, fashionable. She was the kind of lady who struck men dumb with a single glance from her crystal blue eyes—the kind of lady destined to become the belle of her season.
And here was Lord Markham, teasing her as if she were still a schoolgirl in pinafores.
Lucy’s gaze shot toward Lady Felicia and she saw her pretty face had darkened with a scowl. “For pity’s sake, Edmund,” she snapped. “You needn’t hover over me as if I’m a child. Why don’t you go and ask Miss Fisher to dance?” Lady Felicia nodded toward a dark-haired young lady in a blue gown who was seated several seats away.
“Yes, all right.” Lord Markham gave an indolent shrug, then ambled off toward Miss Fisher without a backward glance.
Lady Felicia seated herself in the chair next to Lucy’s. “There, isn’t this cozy? I confess I’m happy to be rid of the lot of them. That is, not your cousin, of course, but Lord Markham is being tiresome, and my brother…well, he’s charming, but he’s rather exhausting. One does have to keep one’s eye on him, you know, or else he’ll fall into mischief.”
Lucy laughed. “I believe he just said the same thing about you.”
“Yes, he did, the wicked thing, but it’s only true for one of us.” Lady Felicia gave a tinkling laugh of her own.
Her laugh was a feminine version of her brother’s—genuine, and without a hint of self-consciousness. Lucy decided right then and there she liked them both very much. “Well, you needn’t worry about that with my cousin. Eloisa doesn’t put up with mischief, especially from handsome, charming gentlemen.”
Lady Felicia watched Eloisa and Lord Vale for a moment, her head cocked as she considered them. “They look well together, don’t they?”
They did. Lord Vale’s fair coloring complemented Eloisa’s dark beauty. Lucy watched the dancers move through the set for a short time, then turned back to Lady Felicia. “Lord Markham is handsome, and very fashionable.”
“Heishandsome, isn’t he? You’d think that careless smile of his would make him less so, yet it suits him, somehow.”
