‘If I do not feel “regret”, Lord Rothley, it seems … unnecessary for you to do so.’
‘And I am a burden, am I?’ added Miss Tyneham, caught between annoyance and delight at being thought a handful.
‘I think, Rothley, old fellow, this is where you admit defeat,’ whispered Sir Esmond.
‘No, I stick to my guns. Miss Tyneham knows full well that she can be a burden if she so chooses, and I still think it a crying shame that Lady Sophy has to adopt the role of her mama for the rest of the Season.’ He was still frowning, and Sophy found this almost as disturbing as his wolfish smile. Was it some form of double bluff for the wolf to pretend regret when the shepherd was called away and the oldest lamb left in charge? His next words gave her cause to think he had every intention of using the situation to his advantage. ‘If there is any way, at any time, in which I can be of assistance, Lady Sophy, I am at your disposal.’
He bowed, his expression so serious it would be perilously easy to believe every word.
‘At the risk of sounding a pale echo, I also place myself at your command, ma’am, and as a show of good faith offer to risk being shown up upon the dance floor by the twinkle-toed Miss Tyneham.’ Sir Esmond smiled in a friendly way at her and then turned to her cousin. ‘Will it ruin your scheme, Miss Tyneham, to be seen dancing with me, or will I do at a pinch?’
‘Oh, I think I may put you to use, Sir Esmond, and it does a man good to be useful,’ she replied, in a purring voice, and offered him her hand.
‘With your permission, Lady Sophy?’
‘Oh yes, Sir Esmond, with my permission.’
Sophy watched Sir Esmond lead Susan away and quite visibly relaxed. Lord Rothley’s frown had not lifted.
‘Perhaps with your cousin safely kept from trouble for the duration of the dance, you might consider dancing yourself, with me, ma’am?’
‘Ah, but I have another charge, my lord.’ She smiled, but past him at Harriet, who was approaching.
‘Sophy, may I dance with Mr Stoneleigh?’ she asked, a little shyly. ‘I thought it best to ask you …’
‘Mr Stoneleigh? Oh yes, of course. He will not tread upon your toes. Off you go.’
Harriet looked innocently delighted, and threaded her way back to the gentleman.
‘But now, Lady Sophy, you are temporarily free, so will you do me the honour of dancing with me?’ Lord Rothley held out his hand. She stared at it a moment. ‘I am not going to bite you, you know.’
She looked up, shamefaced. His face showed understanding, regret, and a little chagrin.
‘Not in so public a place as Lady Funtley’s party, at least.’ She attempted to lighten the atmosphere, and he smiled, though it did not reach those dangerous eyes of his.
She placed her hand in his, wishing her heart did not leap at the contact, and they took their places in the set.
‘Had you considered how you could have refused your sister permission to dance with Mr Stoneleigh without embarrassing her?’ he enquired as the music began.
‘But Mr Stoneleigh is a very respectable gentleman, sir.’
‘He is, but I meant upon principle, and you know it, ma’am.’
‘I do not see why you should concern yourself in any way with the problems I face, my lord.’
‘Don’t you?’
She blushed as the dance parted them. He had not meant to sound so particular. When the steps brought them together again he altered his emphasis.
‘You have admitted they are problems, you see.’
‘And I am capable of solving them.’
‘I am sure you are, ma’am, but at what cost to yourself?’
‘That is immaterial, my lord.’
‘I beg to differ.’ He paused. ‘You may think you have cause to stand back from me, Lady Sophy, but my desire to be of help to you is sincere. I have more years upon the Town and … sometimes, as Miss Tyneham says, a man can be put to good use.’
