And that… no, that wouldn’t do.
“But what’s to be done, James?” Harriett spread her hands. “Lady Upton’s ball is the week after next. It would do her a world of good to attend, and face them all with her head held high, but it’s not as if we can drag her there.”
“No, she’s much too stubborn for that.” It made no sense that such a strong-minded lady should be so intimidated by theton. “I don’t understand it, Harriet. Euphemia Templeton has a tongue like a rapier. Why doesn’t she wield it against theton, instead of running away from them?”
“It’s more complicated than you imagine, James. Phee is protective of those she loves and fierce in her defense of them. I witnessed her deliver a grand set down once when Lady Clydemade a disparaging remark about her sister Emmeline. It was glorious.” Harriett grinned, recalling it, but then her smile faded. “But it’s not so easy to defend oneself, I suppose.”
“Not always, no.” Euphemia had said something similar to him tonight herself. “I’d thought to dance a waltz with her tonight,” he murmured, more to himself than Harriett.
“I would have liked to have seen that.” Harriett paused, considering. “Although now you say it, I don’t believe Phee knows how to waltz.”
“What? How can she not know how to waltz?” Didn’t every young lady in England know how to waltz?
“You forget, James, that Phee’s season took place six years ago before the waltz became the rage. They didn’t even allow it at Almack’s back then. It was considered improper.”
He stared at her. “Do you mean to say Euphemia Templeton hasn’t danced insix years?” That was impossible.
“Not much, no. She usually declines to dance at balls, although she did dance with Mr. Darby last season, but I believe it was quadrille, not a waltz.”
Good Lord, could it really be the case that Euphemia didn’t know how to waltz? That was… no, that wouldn’t do. Not at all.
“I’m going to go peek in on Phee, and then I’m off to bed.” Harriett gave a great yawn as she rose to her feet, but she paused at the door before going out. “Gilly tells me the two of you have plans to have a ride together this week, James.”
“Yes. The day after tomorrow. I hope he rides better than he drives. He does know how to properly sit a saddle, doesn’t he?” He smiled to take the sting out of his words.
“He does, indeed.” Harriett studied him for an instant. “It’s kind of you to spend time with him. He doesn’t know many gentlemen in London— at least, not many worthy ones, and he’s… well, I’m grateful to you.”
“It’s not me you should thank, Harriett, but Miss Templeton. It’s all her doing. She scolded me into it.” He’d been mightily affronted by it at the time, but now he’d begun to think she’d done him a great favor.
Somehow, in the upheaval of their parents’ deaths, his inheriting an impoverished earldom, and leaving England, he’d forgotten how to be kind.
He’d lost a vital part of himself, and she… she’d helped him to find it again. What more could a man ask, than a lady who reminded him how to be the best version of himself?
Such a lady as that was rare, and she was a gift.
“That does sound like Phee.” Harriett stood in the doorway, staring at him. At one point she started to speak, but then subsided, wringing her hands.
Ah. They’d come to it, at last. Even after their years apart, he could still see her thoughts on her face as clearly as if she’d spoken them aloud. Well then, he’d have to help her a bit, wouldn’t he?
He cleared his throat. “I take it, Harriett, that you’re rather fond of Lord Gilbert.”
The sudden surge of color in her cheeks was answer enough. “Er, yes. I am.”
James studied the tip of his shoe, hiding his smile. “Perhaps you’re a bitmorethan just fond of him?”
She went still. “I— perhaps I am, yes.”
“I see. Well then, I suppose Farthingale is out.”
She rolled her eyes. “He was neverin, James.”
“No, I suppose not. A pity, really, although I admit Lord Gilbert—Gilly, if I must —isn’t quite the fool I initially thought him to be. His clothing leaves a great deal to be desired, of course, and he has no business driving a phaeton until he’s had proper lessons, but…”
“But?”
“But if hewereto ever work up the nerve to ask me for your hand, I wouldn’t refuse him.”
“Oh, thank you, James!” Harriett rushed across the room, threw her arms around his neck, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, just as she’d used to do when she was a child, and he’d soothed one of her hurts.
