Page 55 of The Season of Lady Chastity

Bastian stepped through the door and held out his arm for his mother. If he were honest, he was beyond satisfied to see his mother in good health and jovial spirits. He knew if she wanted to dance all night long, he’d remain close to keep watch but would refrain from interfering.

That did not stop him from spotting Chastity on the dance floor the moment she reached the edge of the dancers—in Comstock’s arms. He was helpless to do anything but watch as the vile lord twirled her around the floor, her blue gown swirling wide, its beadwork glittering in the light of the chandeliers above.

It should be his arm circling her waist. It should be Bastian smiling down at her as she laughed at his jokes. It should be he who brought such lightness to her steps.

Yet, it would mean moving out of the place he’d created for himself, as an onlooker while his life passed him by. His mother had placed the ridiculous notion in his head earlier in the day, and he’d been unable to rid himself of it.

For Bastian, Chastity was worth pushing himself into unknown waters.

Lady Chastity wasn’t the type to stand on the fringes of a room and allow her life to proceed around her. Their relationship thus far told Bastian that she was the type of lady who knew what she wanted and actively sought it out. Their every encounter, limited as they were, was yet another glimpse into Chastity’s character and how Bastian could discover his best self with her. How he could see through the murky cloud that had settled over him years before, obscuring his view of the future so completely that he could not picture any life but the one he’d led for the past several years.

Blessedly, the music came to a climax before ending. His relief was short-lived as Tamblerton strolled forward to talk to Comstock—or possibly claim Chastity’s next set.

The lord’s smile turned to a frown when Chastity shook her head and pointed at her dance card. Bastian could not see what her card held nor hear the exchange from where he stood.

In short order, the two lords stalked away, leaving Lady Chastity alone on the dance floor as the musicians tuned their instruments for the next set, and new couples swept to the floor.

“Why do you not invite her to dance?” his mother whispered.

In a way, Bastian feared he’d disappointed Chastity when he failed to attend the wedding. “I am certain her card is full, and I am too late.”

“I think you’ve misinterpreted the situation.” His mother kept her eyes trained on Chastity as she spoke.

His brow rose in question. “How?”

“You have undervalued your worth, Bastian, and underestimated Lady Chastity’s ability to recognize a good man when she meets one.”

“You cannot possibly—”

“A woman knows, Bastian,” his mother replied. “Have you not seen her eyes scanning the room, just as yours did when we entered? She was not intent on her dance partner, nor the gentleman who requested her next set because…she is waiting for you.”

Bastian wasn’t given much time to explore her words as Doc Durpentire appeared at his mother’s side. The smile from earlier in the day—the grin that could turn a rainy day clear—reappeared on his mother’s face.

“Lord Mansfield.” Durpentire nodded before turning to his mother and bowing low. “My lady. How is my patient this evening?”

“I am quite the thing, thank you, sir.” She pulled a fan from her bag and flapped it several times in front of her face, though the room was not overly warm. “I did not expect to see you here.”

“I am full of surprises,” the doctor retorted.

Bastian stood still as his mother laughed—actually laughed. It had been years since he’d heard such a melodic sound from her; though, here his mother was, captivating the man before her.

Just as Chastity had enthralled him from the moment she’d spoken at their first meeting.

“I do not suppose you have a set open for me?” the physician asked.

“The time when I was in need of a dance card passed long ago.” She batted her eyes at the elder doctor.

“Does that mean you will dance with me, my lady?” Doc Durpentire pressed, much to Bastian’s chagrin. He could almost picture the aging doctor in his youth before his hair had greyed and his broad shoulders began to stoop. “We shall call it an endeavor for exercise.”

“There is no need of such a grand reason to ask a lady to dance, Clarence.”

The doctor chuckled and held out his arm. “I hope you do not mind, Lord Mansfield. I will return her immediately after the set.”

He wasn’t certain what surprised him more: his mother’s adeptness at amorous banter, or the doc’s inference that Bastian was his mother’s guardian and keeper. He was protective of her, sure, but Bastian would never think to control his mother.

Bastian released her arm and searched the room once more for Chastity.

“It is one dance,” she whispered. “I must live, and when I do, you will also be free to do the same. Mayhap pursue a lovely lady?”