Page 8 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

Kate had to grab her to keep her from twirling about. Her cousin’s behavior did not bode at all well for her own prospects with Lord Finley.

“He just said it was a pretty name and went on talking about the ball.” Celinda sighed and clasped her hands together over her chest.

“Is that what’s got you all atwitter?”

“Says you with the unexceptional name of Katherine.” She sniffed, and the old Celinda returned. “You have no idea the cross it is to have everyone make mention of your name. To be asked over and over if it’s a family name, and what it means, and do I like it, until I want to pull my hair out.” She straightened a nonexistent out-of-place curl then pointed her fan at Kate. “You have no idea how tiresome it is.”

“I expect not.” No one had ever commented on her name. Kate took her cousin’s arm and began a sedate stroll round the crowded room. Perhaps the motion would soothe Celinda. “So Lord Finley is a wonderful dancer, and exceptionally incurious about your name. What other charms does he possess? I am engaged to him for the next, as you remember.” Walking did seem to temper Celinda’s agitation, so she kept her moving, threading them through the little clusters of people. “What else may I expect?”

“Well, he smiles a lot, with even teeth. And he did several very thoughtful things, like tying my fan when it came loose from my wrist. He was simply the most wonderful partner I’ve ever had.” She gave a breathless sigh and shivered.

“Then I will certainly look forward to my set with him.” Kate surveyed the room. They were all the way across the floor from the spot where Lord Finley stood talking to Bertie. “I must go back. The musicians are almost ready for the next set. Shall I leave you with your mother?”

“No, I’m going to sit in the retiring room in case Bertie comes looking for me. I simply could not endure a dance with anyone else at the moment.” Celinda brushed a kiss over Kate’s cheek. She had calmed sufficiently that Kate had fewer qualms about letting her go. “I will see you after your set. I’ll want to hear all about it,” she called as she all but skipped out of the doorway.

Dodging around chatting couples and clusters of gossiping matrons, Kate hurried as best she could back toward Lord Finley. She didn’t want to keep his lordship waiting.

“Not a feather to fly with, so Lord Cranston says. I pity his poor sister, just out this Season.”

The words caught her attention, and Kate slowed her headlong dash past a clutch of older ladies. Who might they be talking about?

“Let us hope his mother’s settlements are adequate for the girls. The estate may never recoup its losses.”

Heart beating fast, Kate shook off the comment and continued toward Lord Finley. Her first thought, of course, was Lord Haversham, but it might not have been him. They could have been talking about almost anyone, though he fit the description so perfectly, she doubted they were. Anyway, it was none of her concern, really. She didn’t even like the man. Still, the gossip didn’t sit well with her. Now she wished she hadn’t made that comment to Haversham about not working. That had been bad form on her part.

She shook off the gloomy thoughts and put on her brightest smile as she approached Lord Finley and Bertie. “My lord, I believe we are promised for this set?”

“Indeed we are, Miss Locke.” Celinda had been truthful about the white teeth. “If you will excuse us, Mr. Symmons.” Lord Finley offered his arm, and Kate took it gratefully. He led her onto the floor, skillfully maneuvering through the throng of guests who seemed to have swelled in the past half hour.

They took their places for a quadrille, and the orchestra began a particularly lively rendition of “L’Horatia.”

Kate curtsied to her corner partner then to Lord Finley, trembling like a girl in her first Season. They chasséd down the square, took hands and, turning, chasséd back. In her concentration on the steps, she forgot to be nervous until they crossed arms around each other, and his arm brushed her waist. She expected a tingle, even stronger than when Lord Haversham had pulled her close to him. Lord Finley’s touch, however, seemed rather ordinary, although his hand had an uncomfortably moist feel, even through her gloves. Odd, and somewhat disappointing.

Lord Finley was quite the most attractive gentleman she’d met in three Seasons. With such broad shoulders, he cut a dashing figure in perfectly tailored evening clothes she couldn’t help but admire. He’d been pleasant to talk to and extremely courteous. So why didn’t he pique her interest more? Perhaps further conversation would remedy that.

“You are quite an excellent dancer, my lord,” she said, when it was the third and fourth couple’s turn to dance. “It seems difficult for some tall men, but not so with you.”

“Thank you, Miss Locke.” He flashed his smile again. “I do enjoy it, especially when my partner is as lovely and accomplished as you.”

She nodded at the compliment and would’ve thanked him had it not been their turn on the floor once more. They passed through, and she linked hands with the second couple, dancing the steps together as a threesome. When they had finished their part, Lord Finley began his own solo performance, a series of steps made up by the male dancer to display his dancing prowess. He skipped, hopped, and twirled as the other dancers applauded. Then they joined hands in a circle and came back to their starting position.

“What an outstanding exhibition, my lord.” Kate stared into the blue depths of his eyes. “You must practice constantly.”

“I do.” He chuckled. “I have five younger sisters, and my mother insists that now I am home, I must dance with each one, even though only two are currently out and the youngest is ten.”

The other couples finished their part, and the music stopped. Kate applauded, struggling for something to say until the next dance began. “I understand you have returned to England but recently.”

“Indeed, I’ve been home scarcely a full month. Hence, lots of dancing practice.” He smiled, his face transforming from pleasant to dangerously charming. “And you are Lady Celinda’s cousin?” He changed the subject smoothly. Did he not want to talk about his travels?

“Yes, we grew up together in Somerset.”

“So she told me. That is a lovely part of the country, as I recall. Did you have much snow this past winter?”

Drat. Now they were on the weather, she feared she’d never get any more information about the man. As they continued the sets of the quadrille, however, Kate was able to glean that his mother was giving a ball for his second eldest sister, who’d come out this year.

“I will particularly ask that you and Lady Celinda be included in the guest list, Miss Locke. And I insist upon a dance with you.” That dangerously charming smile came out again, and Kate’s head whirled. No man should be that handsome.

“Oh, I assure you, Lord Finley, I will hold you to that promise.” Kate sent him a smile of her own. “A waltz perhaps, next time?”