Page 25 of A Gifted Earl

“I would be delighted to indulge in a future conversation…” the music stopped, and he twirled her to a stop. They bowed and curtsied, and he offered his arm, “and another dance, perhaps?”

She blushed, and he wondered what she was thinking. He led her back towards her mother, and the cluster of hopeful young ladies. Waiting there, his eyes on Lady Venetia, was Lord Blatherfort. Beside him, she gave the smallest shudder, and Morgan thought that he understood.

“Yes, most definitely. I do enjoy dancing with you…”

He bent slightly closer to her, so that his words would reach only her.

“…whilst you do not enjoy dancing with gentlemen like Lord Blatherfort, who awaits you now?”

She faltered in her steps, just fractionally, then went on smoothly, a false smile on her face as she whispered an answer.

“Indeed, you have the right of it there. There is nothing to enjoy about being improperly propositioned by a man who is far too free with his hands on the dancefloor.”

Anger filled him, on her behalf.

“I must hope that such behaviour is not common.”

She gave the slightest bitter laugh.

“He will only be the third one this evening. So it rather depends on what you consider common, doesn’t it?”

*****

Venetia sat quietly on a chair near the end of a row, watching as the pianist settled. The evening was a musical soiree at Lady Thornmont’s home, and Venetia was cautiously optimistic – whilst the three young ladies who were to sing might not necessarily be talented, at least there were none of the old lechers in attendance.

The Countess of Thornmont called for attention, and the room quieted. A few latecomers slipped in as she began to speak, one sitting right beside Venetia. She did not look to see who it was, but politely concentrated on Lady Thornmont.

“Welcome to our musicale! Tonight, there are three parts to the evening – three different talented singers to entertain you, ably supported by Mr Chatterham on the pianoforte. First we have my daughter, Lady Anne Parry.”

There was a polite smattering of applause as Lady Anne stepped up onto the stage, and Venetia steeled herself for the first notes – for if Lady Anne did not sing well, then the next half hour was most likely to be more like torture than pleasure. The pianist began, and moments later, Lady Anne’s voice joined the music.

Venetia sighed in relief, for Lady Anne had a lovely voice, and the piece was chosen well to suit her. From beside her, the person who had slipped into the seat at the last minute spoke in a deep resonant whisper.

“A sigh of relief, no doubt, for one never knows what quality of song may issue forth…”

Venetia snapped her head around, to discover the Earl of Templewick, who had a wicked grin on his face. His eyes sparkled with what was surely mischief!

“Whether that is the case or not, it is most improper of you to suggest that it might be…”

Her whisper was very low, but he obviously heard, and his smile widened.

“Ah, but we have already established that I do not always behave in the manner which you might expect from a gentleman of the ton – although I do hope that you do not find me… unpleasantly improper…?”

She wanted to laugh, as a feeling of giddy delight in his company filled her. So she determinedly repressed that impulse, turned her eyes back to the young Lady performing, and issued what she hoped was a quelling “shhhh!”

Obediently, he ceased talking, but she was acutely aware of his presence, so very close beside her. Lady Thornmont’s drawing room was not all that large, and the chairs were placed rather close together, which meant that she could almost feel the warmth of him – which made it remarkably difficult to concentrate on the performance. A performance which seemed to go on forever, no matter how talented Lady Anne was.

Venetia was greatly relieved when she concluded, and Lady Thornmont stated that there would be a fifteen-minute break before the next singer. But of course, that meant that she now had no excuse to avoid conversing with Lord Templewick…

“Do you enjoy musicales, Lady Venetia? Are they, perhaps, more to your taste than Balls?”

Venetia glanced sideways, towards her mother, and discovered that she was speaking to one of her friends, which allowed Venetia the chance to turn her full attention to Lord Templewick, and speak, knowing that there was very little chance that her mother would overhear.

“That rather depends, my Lord.”

“Upon what does it depend?”

“Whether the talents of the performers are so poor as to cancel out the value of the fact that it seems that lechers seeking mistresses do not like music.”

He laughed – a laugh which would have been large and delighted, had he been outside – a laugh which he barely managed to swallow into a sound constrained enough for a smallish drawing room.

“An interesting scale of assessment. I must ask you, at the end of the evening, to tell me where tonight falls, in your opinion.”

She smiled at him, an odd bubble of happiness filling her.

“I will be delighted to provide you with a report.”