‘Then let me lead you, as Orpheus did Eurydice from the Depths, to the terrace forthwith.’
‘That analogy, Mr Escott, is neither complimentary to Lady Chesham’s ball, nor likely to inspire me with confidence, since Eurydice did not escape Hades.’
He offered her his arm, and she took it, though she tensed, seeing Lady Rendlesham gazing at them with a far from pleasant smile upon her lips. As they passed her she nodded, graciously, and murmured, ‘Mr Escott, Miss Ashling. What a delightful couple you make, a contrast of light and dark. I do declare even I might be tempted to write lines upon such a vision.’ She gave a tittering laugh and turned away. Elizabeth had no doubt that anything that occurred to Aurelia Rendlesham would be waspish.
The terrace was cooler, and the lanterns hung about it did not bathe it in so much light that a couple might not find somewhere in at least slight shadow. Elizabeth hoped most sincerely that none had seen her departure and assumed it a tryst of her choosing. Thankfully, it was also not so late as to have attracted any other couples. She steered her escort to the alcove to the right of the doorway, thinking95most would look to the terrace end for an assignation.
‘Mr Escott, your letter, and the information contained—’
‘You understand. It is Pointless for me to repress myFeelings. A PoetisFeelings, and above All things I am a Poet. You must See how much I need your Inspiring Presence at my Side to fuel my Verses. I Need you as a Fish needs water.’
Elizabeth had a mental image of him flapping about like a landed fish. ‘Sir, your interest in me is, I assure you, transitory, and nothing could be less likely to bring either of us happiness than … Mr Escott, get up, sir!’
He had gone down on one knee, and was looking up at her in a manner reminiscent of the Honourable James Ashling’s favourite spaniel. ‘My Muse, my Goddess, you will not fail me.’
‘You are living in a bubble of your own devising.’ Elizabeth unconsciously echoed her friend’s words. ‘There is absolutely no reason why I should be even tempted to accept an offer from you, assuming that is what you are about to waste your breath upon, and …’
He looked, for a moment, stunned, then confused, and then simply disbelieving. She could not be trying to refuse him. That was an impossibility. He grabbed her hand.
‘Miss Ashling … Elizabeth … You cannot mean …’ He attempted to press kisses upon her wrist as she drew her hand back, sharply.
‘I made you free of neither my name nor my hand, sir, and—’
‘The lady would be mightily relieved if you stopped behaving with as little decorum as a village swain at a96revel-rout.’ Neither Elizabeth nor the lovelorn youth had noticed Sir Lucius Radstock leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. ‘However, that would seem to be too much to be hoped for, so I take leave to tell you that I shall remove you forcibly into the rose bed below, if you do not instantly take yourself off. I will also have no compunction in informing your father that you need taking in hand.’ The voice was bored, and not a little supercilious.
Mr Escott, very red in the face, and suddenly feeling far less the man of the town and more green stripling, stammered something incoherent, and scrambled to his feet. He cast Sir Lucius a look of loathing, and one of despair at Elizabeth, indicative of his belief that, had he not been interrupted, she would have been won over by his protestations of undying devotion. With a hasty bow, he withdrew, scowling. Elizabeth pursed her lips, an action that Sir Lucius interpreted as natural irritation.
‘He was becoming a nuisance, ma’am?’
‘Yes, but I was quite capable of dealing with him. If you think you have in some way rescued me, sir, then you labour under a singular misapprehension.’ Her tone was civil, but only just.
‘Forgive me. You did not seem to be encouraging him. Indeed, I was under the impression that you did not appear to be enjoying the young man’s attentions one jot. I think you were perhaps unwise to have permitted him to bring you somewhere private, however damping your intentions.’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘No, of course I was not “enjoying” his attentions, but I was quite capable of sending him to the right about when97he became too tedious. As well put up with him as any other …’ She halted, aware that she was about to sound churlish and unforgivably rude.
‘… Pretentious young cub?’ He smiled, seemingly unabashed, but the eyes looked very hard at her. She nodded. No, he thought, that was not what she was going to say, though she chose to accept his offer of escape.
‘Young men can be very irksome, sir.’
‘How fortunate, then, that I am no longer a “young man”, and thus am able to solicit your hand for the next dance without fearing that I might irk you. And please do not tell me that you are unable to dance through sustaining an injury, for I have watched you hobble on one side and then the other, Miss Ashling, and feel obliged to tell you that that hare will not run.’
She had had no intention of accepting any offer from him, whether of refreshment or to dance, but this disarmed her. She coloured slightly, conscious that to decline in the face of his seeing through her ruse would appear petulant. Then she laid her hand upon his arm, not daring to glance into his face as he led her back into the ballroom, and into the set that was forming.
Elizabeth had almost forgotten how much she enjoyed dancing with a gentleman who was adept at the exercise. What a pity it was that one had to be engaged to dance by the man, selected by him, picked as carelessly as a buttonhole flower, regardless of his own abilities. Had she not been intensely annoyed with Sir Lucius she would have exulted in the fact that, for the first time this Season, she had a partner who made it all seem natural. The momentary98distaste had crossed her features so fleetingly that only Sir Lucius noticed, and she otherwise played the part of delighted and delightful partner perfectly well, making such small talk as the movements of the dance made convenient.
At the conclusion, Sir Lucius led her from the floor, aware that several jealous matrons eyed her ‘success’ with disfavour, and wondered why, instead of enjoying her triumph, Miss Ashling seemed put out by it. She certainly stiffened, and her thanks were patently insincere, her look a dismissal as obvious as the one he had given her unwanted poet. He bowed, as coolly civil, and withdrew in good order. He was confused, and more than a little piqued, since he had ended what he saw as an embarrassing interlude for her. With his thoughts thus still upon her, he went to join his friend Collingbourne, who was trying tocatch his eye.
‘Stealing a march, are you? For shame, Lucius. What need you of a wife with a neat little fortune? I have been fobbed off with the excuse that the lady’s shoes were most unfortunately pinching, and that she had resolved not to dance this evening. Yet there she was, and with you, sly dog.’
‘Perhaps she has seen you dance, my dear Collingbourne.’Sir Lucius grinned at his friend, and then looked to where Miss Ashling was in comfortable conversation with the Dowager Lady Keynsham.
‘I’ll admit I’m no caper merchant, but dash it, Lucius, I am not likely to tread on the delightful Miss Ashling’s toes.’
‘Ah, are you one of those who would pay her court?’ Sir Lucius concealed his chagrin well, and, to all intents and99purposes, was smiling in a benign and almost avuncular fashion on his erstwhile partner.
‘Dashed good-looking girl in a sort of reserved way, and worth a good few thousand, so they say.’
‘They?’ He cast a sidelong glance at the Viscount.
