by Ella Quinn
She glanced at the sideboard. “I shall have a glass of wine.”
Good. Despite what he’d said to Lady Adeline, this was one of those times when a glass of claret was required. Acceding to his mother’s wishes, he poured two glasses and brought the decanter with him as well.
Mama drained half the goblet. “I realize that you love the estate, and farming, and the entirety that goes along with it. However, I really do think you could . . . could find it in yourself to make more elegant conversation with a young lady.”
He supposed he could have talked about the weather or asked about her likes and dislikes. But he’d found out a great deal about her by discussing pineapples, and pigs, and farming techniques. Next time he would ask about her. He was interested in what Adeline thought and wanted. “But I needed to know what she thought of the area I like the best. I did not do that with Lady Dorie and look what happened.”
“Yes, well.” Mama refreshed her glass of wine. “I suppose you have a point. A happy marriage is mostly made up of shared goals. If she wants to be in Town hosting political parties and you want to be at Littleton or one of the other estates mired in as much muck, mud, and dirt as your tenants, that would not do.” She focused her eyes on his. “Even though your behavior might make this Season more difficult, I do commend you for recognizing that you and Lady Dorie would not have been happy together. It is entirely too easy to think oneself in love with someone who is wholly wrong for one’s happiness.”
It was on the tip of Frits’s tongue to ask who Mama was thinking of other than Dorie. That statement appeared to have its roots in a hard-won truth, but he decided not to. As far as he could tell, his parents had been extremely happy until Papa died a few years ago. If asked, Frits would have said they’d made a love match. Even if there had been someone else before they’d wed, it was long in the past and had not been destined to last. “Precisely my point. Aside from that, she enjoyed talking about farming. I could see it in her eyes.” He took a drink. “I told her about the pigs.”
His mother cast her eyes to the ceiling and groaned. “Then I suppose you must be correct about her. It is a sweet story, but many fashionable ladies would think it quite provincial at best and disgusting at worst.”
He’d never thought of it that way. Perhaps that was the reason he’d never told Lady Dorie the story. Maybe that also was the reason he had never called or even thought of Lady Dorie by her name when he wanted to call Lady Adeline, Adeline. “I think you are right. The problem is that I feel as if she is holding herself back from me.”
“Of couse she is. You did hurt her friend,” his mother pointed out drily. “Any good friend would do the same.”
He swirled his glass, watching the wine leave a clear coating on the side of the goblet. “What do I do about it? The only thing I can think of is to speak with Lady Dorie and explain why I left.”
“At present, I cannot think that would work out well for you. Essentially, what you would be telling her was that she was not right for you, but you think Lady Adeline is, and could she please forgive you so that you can court her friend.”
Put that way, it really didn’t sound very good. “So what do I do?”
“Be patient. If Lady Adeline is the right lady, there will come a time when she must recognize you are the only one for her, and she will relent.” Mama finished her goblet and rose. “In the meantime, be a consistent presence. I am going to take a nap before dinner.”
“Don’t forget, we are attending the Rothwell ball.”
“I have not forgotten. I am not in my dotage yet.” Mama gave him an exasperated smile and left the study.
He glanced at his wine and took a healthy swig. If he had to be too patient, he might start drinking more. He’d felt a physical pull to her as he never had with another woman. As if she was his lodestone. This evening he would waltz with her, and he already knew he wouldn’t want to let her go. But how he was to convince her to pick him over her friend, Frits had no idea. That would not be easy.
And how was he to protect her from other men when he wasn’t positive what he and Lady Adeline would be to each other? He only knew that he had an urge to do so that would not be denied. In fact, he’d start tonight. The only thing he could do to shelter her while he waited for Lady Adeline to decide he was the right gentleman for her was to keep other gentlemen away from her. Especially Anglesey. The man was up to no good. Frits could feel it in his bones.
He finished his glass and poured another. With any luck at all, he’d hear from Elizabeth Harrington soon. Still, Anglesey wasn’t the only man who’d be interested in Adeline. There were quite a few gentlemen this year who were seeking wives. If only he could do what the first Baron Littleton had done and make off with the lady, marry her, and keep her hidden until she was clearly with child. That thought made him consider what he’d do to make sure she was his. His shaft hardened, and now that he’d thought about it, he could not unthink it.
He didn’t nap, but a cold bath wouldn’t go amiss. This afternoon he’d avoided looking at her plush form, the way her spencer hugged her breasts and hid them from view. Tonight, she’d be in an evening gown and the gentle swell of her bosom would be on display. The problem was, it would be on display for all the other gentlemen to see as well. Frits tossed off his wine. This was going to be a blasted difficult night, and he hadn’t even seen her yet.
He was going to start praying he wouldn’t have to be patient for too long. His fortitude had never been tested before, and suddenly his long-dead Norman ancestors were clamoring for a fight.
Blast it all. He was doing it again! Yet how in the hell did he make himself slow down?
* * *
Adeline was thrilled with her ball gown, the very first one she had ever owned. It was cream silk and embroidered all over with flowers and vines. The bodice had pearls and brilliants in it so that when she moved, it sparkled under the candlelight. Stepping back from the mirror, she saw that the skirts caught the light as well. “I have never had anything so beautiful!”
“I have to say, that Madame Lisette did a wonderful job.” Fendall handed Adeline her reticule and fan.
“I am so glad Eugénie’s friend recommended her.” Adeline couldn’t resist one last look in the mirror.
Her maid draped a spangled shawl over her shoulders. “You’d better go or you’ll be late.”
“Yes.” She was looking forward to her friend’s ball. Her own ball was not for another three weeks. By the time her mother had thought about it, it was too late to hold it earlier. If she ever had a daughter, Adeline would plan her come out ball months in advance. Nevertheless, this evening would give her an opportunity to see how everything was supposed to be done. When she arrived in the hall, her family was already waiting. Even Mama and Papa were attending.
Taking Mama’s hand, Papa led them out the door. “I’m hoping I can talk to Worthington, Rothwell, and some of the others about the bill I’m sponsoring.”
“It is Augusta’s ball,” Adeline muttered. “They might have other things to do.”
“Nonsense.” He helped her into the coach. “They’ll find time.”
She caught Eugénie’s eye and gave a disgusted shake of her head. Surely every gentleman did not live and breathe politics. Lord Littleton had not mentioned the subject at all. Then again, he was not an ideal example.
Before long they were in the line of coaches letting guests off at the front of Worthington House. “I thought the ball was at Rothwell House.”
“It was,” Mama said. The coach drew up and the door opened. “But there was some sort of problem in the ballroom and the venue was changed.”
It must have been a great deal of work to change the location. As soon as she reached Augusta in the receiving line, Adeline took her friend’s hands. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Augusta pulled a face. “The central chandelier in my sister’s ballroom crashed and damaged the floor. Not only must the chandelier and the pulleys be replaced, but t
he entire floor will have to be refurbished.”
Goodness. There must have been crystal shards everywhere. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Thankfully, no. It occurred after it had been cleaned and the servants had left the room.” Augusta squeezed Adeline’s hands, and she went on to the duke and duchess.
When she and her family reached the series of rooms that had been made to resemble a ballroom, she quickly found Georgie and the others. Gentlemen were crowding around them, and the instant Adeline arrived, she was besieged for dances. This was not at all what she had expected.
She glanced around, taking in the decorations, and from across the room, Lord Littleton lifted a glass of champagne to her in a salute. A stab of guilt pierced Adeline as she slid a look at Dorie. Should Adeline have agreed to dance with him at all? Not that she could have known it ahead of time, but she had enough offers, she could have danced each set twice. If she’d had any idea, she would not have accepted Lord Littleton’s request for a set. His bright-green eyes captured hers, and she swallowed, hoping that her friend would forgive her for standing up with him.
Then Adeline remembered she’d given him the supper dance, and all her friends had just agreed they would spend supper together. Well, drat! Now what was she supposed to do?
The orchestra was still tuning their instruments when she caught Henrietta by the arm and pulled her aside. “You are closer to Dorie than I am. Do you know exactly what happened between her and Lord Littleton?”
“No.” Henrietta bit down on her lip. “She will not speak of it.”
“It must have been truly dreadful.” Adeline flicked a look across the room. He was still there. He had been so nice to her. Perhaps it was his way of drawing a lady in.
“That’s the only thing I can think,” Henrietta agreed. “Has he asked you to dance again?”
“Yes.” Adeline closed her eyes. The admission felt like it was being pulled from her. She’d rather keep it her secret. That though was impossible when they were all here, and everyone would see her standing up with him.
“There is really nothing you can do.” Henrietta’s prosaic tone had a soothing affect. “After all, we are at the mercy of gentlemen to ask us to dance.”
“Very true. I feel as if I am betraying her.” Just the admission made Adeline feel better.
“I am sure she will understand.” The corner of Henrietta’s lip quirked up, giving her a rueful look. “Until ladies can ask gentlemen to dance, we are all in the same position.”
That was something to salve the conscience. Adeline would simply refuse to enjoy dancing with Lord Littleton. The violins began to play the prelude to the first dance. “Come, our partners will be here soon.”
They took the few steps back to their circle, and Lord Bottomley bowed to her. “My lady.” He held out his arm.
“My lord.” After curtseying, she placed her hand on his sleeve and could not help but notice that it was not as firm as Lord Littleton’s.
The first dance was the cotillion, and she sent a silent thank-you to Will for practicing the steps with her. Despite her complaints about him, he had been fantastic about making sure she would not embarrass herself on the dance floor. Of course, he phrased it as not embarrassing him. With their parents present, he was finally able to dance with Eugénie, and he winked at Adeline when he looked at her from down the line.
“Why is Wivenly winking at you?” Lord Bottomley glanced at her.
“It is just his way of teasing.” When he did not respond, she added, “When I was a child he taught me to wink.”
His lordship looked aghast. “I shouldn’t think winking was something I would wish my sister to learn.”
Adeline smiled politely when she would rather have rolled her eyes.
Fortunately for him, the dance was beginning, otherwise she would have given him a set-down. It was one thing for her to criticize her brother. It was quite another for someone outside of the family to do so. She responded politely to his brief attempts at conversation, but was glad when the dance finished.
Her next set was with Lord Belmont. He was not as starched up at Lord Bottomley, but neither was there anything about him to awaken her more tender feelings. On the other hand, she did not have to worry about making conversation. Lord Belmont was more than happy to talk about himself, and his life was not nearly as interesting as Lord Anglesey’s had been.
By the end of her third dance, Adeline had decided meeting the right gentleman for her was going to be just as difficult as she had originally thought. Yet, the next dance was with Lord Littleton, and try as she might, she could not but look forward to it. At least he knew how to make interesting conversation.
Chapter Seven
Frits gazed at Lady Adeline—who was inconveniently standing across the ballroom from him with Lady Dorie and the rest of her friends—and swallowed. Every time she turned, she sparkled, as if the stars had chosen to take up residence with her. Her only jewelry was the pearl necklace and eardrops she’d worn at Almack’s. If he had his way, she’d wear rubies mixed with the pearls, or even with diamonds.
Turley snatched two glasses of champagne from a footman. “Don’t you have some lady with whom you should be standing up?”
“Not yet.” Not until the supper dance, if Frits had his way. Not another woman at the ball interested him. “I could ask you the same question.”
“My answer is the same as yours.” His friend raised his glass in a salute. “I suppose at some point we shall be recruited to stand up with ladies who have no partners.”
He’d purposely avoided glancing around. Lady Worthington, Lady Augusta’s sister-in-law, or her mother, Lady Wolverton, were no doubt on the hunt for stray gentlemen with nothing to do but dance to their tune.
“There are palms to hide behind.” Frits would have to crouch down, but it would be worth it.
Turley looked at Frits as if he’d gone mad. “It’s not as desperate as all that. As a gentleman who is a guest, I do not like being commandeered, but as a brother, I was glad of the practice when Elizabeth was first out.”
Frits rested his eyes on Lady Adeline again and could not stop a scowl forming when Bottomley led her out to dance. Then something in her expression changed, and he knew his lordship had not found favor with her.
“You’re staring at her.” There was no need to explain who her was. Turley lifted a brow. “You’ve met her two times?”
“Four.” If one wished to be precise, and it seemed important that one was.
“I assume you have spoken to her this evening. When was the third time?”
If one was required to speak to a lady in order to have met her, then it was three times. “I took her riding today.”
Turley gave Frits a long, steady look. “And how did it go?”
He thought back to their conversation and felt his lips inch up. “She likes pigs and farming.”
Turley, in the middle of taking a sip of wine, choked. He covered his mouth with his hand, then his shoulders started to shake, and he turned his back to the room. After a series of coughs and almost silent laughter, he turned back around. “Pigs?” And set himself off again.
“It was a pet.” One look at Turley and Frits decided there was no point in explaining what would not have been understood. “The important part is that I now know she likes the country more than Town.”
“You think she likes the country more.” His friend took a long draw from his glass. “She can’t have been here more than a week or two. That could very well change as the Season goes on. Most ladies find Town fascinating.”
He hadn’t thought of that. Not even his mother had mentioned the possibility. “But it might not.”
“Still, to be sure, it will take most of the Season,” Turley pointed out.
Hell. Frits downed his wine and took another glass from a footman. Why could these things not be simple? “I do not even wish to think about that. Isn’t it enough that I must contend with her having Lady Dorie as a friend?”
>
“That is the reason this will take so long. You could find another lady.” Turley’s tone was hopeful.
“What do you have against Lady Adeline?” He barely even knew her.
“Nothing at all. She appears to be a nice young lady. I merely attempted to point out that if you chose another lady, one who was not a friend of Lady Dorie’s, it would make your life easier.”
Frits turned to glare at Turley and found him gazing at one of the young ladies who had been in the group at the Park with Ladies Adeline and Dorie. What was her name? Miss Featherton. That was it. If that was the way Turley was headed, he’d better take her family’s influence into consideration. “Have you asked her to dance yet?”
“No,” he responded, still staring at the lady. “I have not had an opportunity.”
It was not good luck to stand alone. It made it easier to be snagged to dance with someone, but Frits was willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. He wasn’t the only one who needed a wife. It was time his friend set up his nursery as well. “I shall hold down this area, if you wish to brave rejection.”
“Ye of little faith.” His friend handed his champagne glass to him. “I will not be turned down.”
Frits lifted the wine goblet. Had Turley not seen the mob of men that had been around the ladies when they’d arrived? “Good luck.”
By the time Turley made it to where the ladies’ chaperones were standing, the music stopped. The lady’s partner took himself off, and he made his bow and spoke to the lady. His body stiffened. It was not good news. Then he seemed to relax, raised the lady’s hand, and brought it to his lips. The interchange was interrupted by another gentleman, who then took Miss Featherton to the dance floor.
On the way back around the ballroom, Turley grabbed another glass of champagne, so Frits finished his glass and drank the one Turley had left with him and waited.
His friend ambled up and grinned. “The supper dance.”
