Isobel Campbell, the lady he was leaving London for. Leaving Lucy for—
“Lady Lucinda looks fetching tonight, eh, Ramsey?” Vale nudged him in the ribs. “You’d better hurry and ask her to dance before her card is filled for the evening.”
She did look fetching tonight. She looked fetching every night. Every day, too.
Ciaran took a deep breath to steady himself. Lucy was lovely—there was no denying that. Her beauty hadn’t escaped his notice, and neither had his reaction to it. He was a man, after all, and he wasn’t blind.
But he was leaving London in the next week or so, with plans to court another lady. He wasn’t the sort of man to indulge in fantasies about one lady when he had unfinished business with another. He was a gentleman, not an animal who couldn’t control himself.
Still, perhaps it would be better if he didn’t dance with Lucy tonight—
“Sheisfetching, and it irks me no end she’s slighted by every gentleman other than those in our party, just because her father was the Earl of Bellamy.” Lady Felicia’s voice was heavy with disgust, and she was plying her fan with far more energy than necessary. “Both of you must dance with her. You promised her a quadrille at Lady Ivey’s ball, Sebastian. You haven’t forgotten?”
“No. I’d be delighted to dance a quadrille with Lady Lucinda, but not just yet. Right now, I have different quarry in mind.”
“For pity’s sake.” Lady Felicia tugged her brother to a halt in the middle of the ballroom. “I’ll have your word right here and now you won’t torment Miss Jarvis this evening.”
“But it’s so delightful to tease her. She becomes adorably flustered, and then there’s that pretty blush—”
“Sebastian!”
“Very well. May I at least dance with her?”
Lady Felicia smiled, took her brother’s arm, and resumed her trek across the ballroom. “Of course, but be a gentleman about it, if you please.”
Vale laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
When they reached the other side of the ballroom, Vale bowed before the three ladies, his blue eyes gleaming as his gaze fell on Eloisa. “Lady Lucinda. Mrs. Jarvis, and Miss Jarvis. Allow me to say, Miss Jarvis, you look exquisite this evening. Will you dance?”
Eloisa Jarvis had watched Vale’s approach with her chin high and her lips pulled into a prim little frown, but as soon as he offered his hand, her disapproval seemed to desert her. “I, ah—”
“Go on, Eloisa.” Lucy tapped her cousin’s arm gently with her fan. “Mr. Ramsey and Lady Felicia will keep your mother and me company.”
“Yes, do go and dance, my dear.” Mrs. Jarvis gave Vale a distracted smile, then turned back to the lady on her opposite side, who was listening, enthralled, as Mrs. Jarvis regaled her with a description of the wonderful effects of something called Dr. Digby’s Calming Tonic.
“Miss Jarvis?” Vale was standing patiently before Eloisa, his hand still held out to her, his blue eyes soft on her face. Eloisa flushed again, but she accepted his hand and let him escort her to the dancers.
“There’s something happening there,” Lady Felicia said, taking the seat beside Lucy. “Sebastian likes to act as if it’s all in fun, but I’ve never seen that expression on his face before.”
Ciaran studied Vale as he and Eloisa took their places in the set. Vale’s expression was certainly telling. “He looks pleased, befuddled, and nervous all at once.”
Lucy was watching them as well, an anxious little frown between her eyes. “They look divine together. Is your brother free to, ah…bestow his affections according to his inclination? He’s an earl, after all.”
Lucy didn’t say anything more. She didn’t need to. Lady Felicia knew well enough earls didn’t generally marry untitled, penniless ladies like Eloisa Jarvis. Ciaran knew Lucy was fond of Vale, but he also knew she wouldn’t stand by while Vale trifled with her cousin, or broke her heart.
“Perfectly free,” Lady Felicia murmured. “He needn’t marry a fortune, or to please anyone other than himself, so—”
“Good evening. How d’ye do, Ramsey?”
Lord Nash had appeared beside Lady Felicia’s chair. He offered an affable nod to the rest of the party, then held out his hand to her. “May I claim this dance?”
Lady Felicia blushed and took his hand. “Certainly.”
Lord Nash bowed to Lucy and Mrs. Jarvis, then led Lady Felicia to the floor, looking for all the world as if he were bearing off a prize.
Markham appeared a moment later, following so closely in Nash’s wake Ciaran suspected he’d chased Nash across the ballroom to get to Lady Felicia first. Unfortunately, he arrived just in time to watch Nash take Lady Felicia away.
Ciaran slapped him on the back. “Bad luck, Markham. You’ll have to move faster than that next time if you want to dance with Lady Felicia.”
