by Jen Turano
Gabriella winced. “Regrettably, Miss Maryanne Allen was the worst. She monopolized my time for a good thirty minutes, even though there were many other ladies waiting to speak with me—or rather, Mrs. Kaffenburgh.” She took a sip of her coffee. “And then her mother, Mrs. Allen, who is incredibly pushy, bragged almost nonstop about Maryanne’s accomplishments. Why, she barely batted an eye when I brought you into the conversation, telling her and Maryanne how I’d heard they were paying particular attention to you.” She set aside her cup. “Frankly, she was far too quick to assure me that was not the case and that I’d been misinformed. I was in danger of shaking some sense into both of them because they’re so insufferable.”
Daphne gave a shake of her head. “I actually had to intervene for a moment because Gabriella’s eyes were flashing like mad, and she was gripping the spoon she’d been using to stir her tea in what I can only describe as a menacing fashion.” She sent Nicholas a knowing look. “I didn’t think anyone at Rutherford & Company would appreciate watching Gabriella smack Maryanne with a spoon, so I launched into a description of the castle our great-nephew owns. Regrettably, that did not have Gabriella’s temper subsiding, because Maryanne could not stem her excitement as I rattled off details about the castle, such as the moat, the stained-glass windows, and the ghost that’s said to roam the turret room.”
Nicholas couldn’t help himself and laughed.
“He seems to be taking the news that Maryanne is not worthy of his attention far differently than I thought he would,” Daphne said before she glanced at Gabriella. “Do you think he might have misheard what we’ve been telling him?”
“I haven’t misheard a word, Daphne,” Nicholas said before Gabriella could respond, wiping eyes that had begun to water. “It’s merely that I can picture you and Gabriella now—you trying to distract her from her temper by drumming up a story about an imaginary ghost, and her considering using a spoon on Maryanne in some dreadful manner. However, I’ve now collected myself, so do continue. What happened next?”
Gabriella took another sip of coffee. “I was almost convinced we were going to have to tell you that the entire afternoon only proved my belief that society ladies are horrible creatures, but then I spoke at length with Miss Rosaline Blossom.”
“Emma McArthur’s best friend?”
“Indeed, and while Emma is definitely not for you, Rosaline, when she’s not being overshadowed by Emma, is a darling lady. She’s very kind, has a sense of humor I wasn’t expecting, and her family is of the Knickerbocker set.”
“She also loves Montague Moreland books,” Daphne added. “That means the two of you have something in common.”
Nicholas caught Gabriella’s eye. “You really liked her?”
“I did, which is why I think you should pay a call on her and offer to escort her to the Moore-Linwood wedding. She mentioned to me in passing that’s she’s attending the event with her parents.”
“I was planning on attending the wedding with Professor Cameron.”
“Who would certainly understand if you’d change your plans and escort Rosaline to the wedding instead.”
The thought of escorting a lady to the wedding who wasn’t Gabriella, who’d flatly turned him down when he suggested they attend the event together, left Nicholas feeling rather . . . unusual.
It wasn’t that he didn’t find Rosaline Blossom to be a lovely lady, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was not the lady for him.
“Who are the other two ladies?” he asked.
Gabriella’s eyes narrowed. “I think you should concentrate on Rosaline for now because she, in my opinion, is the best suited for you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t agree with that because I don’t think she suits me at all.”
Gabriella’s eyes narrowed another fraction before she turned to Daphne. “The other two ladies I was considering were . . . Miss Louisa Melville and . . . ?”
Daphne glanced through her notes. “Miss Pricilla Davenport.”
Gabriella arched a brow at him. “Will either one of those fine ladies suit you?”
Nicholas thought about it for a mere second before he shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re not . . .”
“They’re not what?” Gabriella pressed when he simply stopped speaking, the very idea that he’d been about to say you leaving him reeling.
Since he had no idea how to answer her question because, clearly, he’d just had an epiphany that was going to change the course of his life—if he figured out how to handle that epiphany properly—he settled for sending Gabriella a smile before he turned to Daphne and asked her to pass him the butter.
CHAPTER
Twenty-One
“That was a beautiful wedding.”
Gabriella exchanged a smile with Daphne and looked around the Linwood ballroom, delighted for Jennette, who was now Mrs. Duncan Linwood, and who was currently standing with her new husband in front of the orchestra.
“Jennette looks happy,” Gabriella said.
“So does Duncan, and we had a part in helping them on their way to their happily-ever-after.”
“That we did.”
Daphne’s gaze suddenly sharpened on something across the room. “It appears Maryanne found Nicholas. She seems to have quite the hold on his arm, probably because Ann let it be known that Mrs. Kaffenburgh has left the city again.” She frowned. “I’m still not certain why Nicholas asked us to spread the tale that Mrs. Kaffenburgh has removed herself to yet another destination. Since he decided those three ladies you thought would suit him weren’t going to work, he might need more ladies vetted. Mrs. Kaffenburgh is the perfect lady to do so.”
“I tried to tell him that,” Gabriella said, her gaze lingering on Nicholas, who was looking very dashing indeed, something Maryanne apparently appreciated as well, given how brightly she was smiling at him. “And it might be my imagination, but he’s been acting rather peculiarly the past few days, ever since we told him what happened when we posed as Mrs. and Miss Kaffenburgh and went to Rutherford & Company.”
“It’s not your imagination because I noticed that as well,” Daphne said. “Perhaps his peculiarity is his way of handling his disappointment. It couldn’t have been pleasant for him to learn how easily so many ladies were willing to set their sights on an earl after they’d let him know they’d set their sights on him.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” Gabriella said, but before she could say more, she realized that Nicholas was watching her—and watching her intently, at that.
Feeling quite warm, she sent him a smile, then turned back to Daphne, fanning a face that had turned heated with her dance card.
It was concerning, the effect Nicholas had on her at times.
Being a realist, she was well aware that their friendship would not be able to continue on as it had been for the past week or so. If and when he settled on a specific society lady to court, the dynamics of their friendship would have to change again. Nevertheless, even knowing that, she’d been unable to distance herself from him, wanting to spend every moment possible in the company of her old friend because whenever she was with him, she felt as if she’d finally found her way home.
She was relatively certain that sense of home was responsible for her not putting much more of an effort into selecting additional acceptable ladies for him to consider, an uncomfortable notion, and one she was going to have to consider further when she was at her leisure.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Phillip walked up to join them, wincing as his gaze traveled over Daphne.
“I’m not certain I approve of the additions you’ve added to the gown I altered for you, Daphne. What’s with all the cat pins?”
Daphne gave a pat to her brown hair that was elaborately styled but that she’d pinned cat pins into, then smoothed a hand down a glorious silk gown of ivory that she’d also attached cat pins to. She straightened the frames of her spectacles, on
es she’d had specially made for the occasion and were slanted at the corners in a very catlike manner.
“I was nervous about having to converse with society members as myself, so I decided to try out my theory about being less cowardly when in disguise,” Daphne began. “An eccentric cat lady fits me well, and to my delight, I’ve been able to converse easily with every society person I’ve encountered.”
“You’ve only run into Mrs. Bracken so far,” Gabriella pointed out. “And the only reason you were able to converse easily with her is because she was struck mute by your appearance.”
Daphne grinned. “Which means most society people are certain to give me a wide berth and my decision to come as a cat lady was spot-on and will spare me a fit of the vapors.”
Phillip returned Daphne’s grin before he turned to Gabriella. “There’s nothing more I can say about Daphne’s curious appearance, but you, on the other hand, I have much to say about. You’re looking exquisite—not that I’m surprised by that—and I’ve told numerous ladies who’ve been admiring your gown that it’s one of my creations.” He leaned closer to her. “A word of warning, though. Practically every gentleman here has been begging Jennette and Duncan Moore for an introduction to you, which has sent more than a few young ladies into tempers.” He nodded to Daphne. “Make sure you don’t let her go to the retiring room on her own because that might turn unpleasant.”
Daphne wrinkled her nose. “Gabriella is more than capable of taking on a few society ladies.”
“I wasn’t worried about Gabriella.” Phillip smiled, his smile turning slightly sappy when he glanced over her shoulder. “Ah, there’s Elsy and Ann, just returning from the retiring room where they, you’ll notice, repaired together.” He smoothed down the front of his jacket. “Remember, ladies, safety in numbers.” Sending Gabriella a bit of a wink, he sauntered off to join Elsy and Ann.
“You do seem to be attracting a good deal of attention,” Daphne said, peering at Gabriella through the thick lenses of her spectacles. “Phillip certainly knew what he was about with dressing you in that particular gown. The cut of it hugs a figure you don’t often display to advantage, and frankly, you look like you belong mingling with the society set instead of standing with me, the cat lady.”
“I much prefer enjoying the ball with you over any society member.”
Daphne released a snort. “Except for Nicholas. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind spending time with him this evening. Did you notice how remarkably dashing he looks in his formal wear? If you ask me, all the ladies who clamored to speak with us the other day, believing we were the Kaffenburghs, have taken leave of their senses, because Nicholas, in my humble opinion, is far worthier of their attention than any earl, fictitious or not.”
Gabriella found she couldn’t argue with that as she chanced another glance at Nicholas, her stomach giving an unexpected flip when she realized he was heading her way, Maryanne still firmly attached to his arm.
“What’s he doing?” she muttered.
Daphne turned her head. “I think he’s coming to greet us.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he wants to?”
Finding that a hardly helpful response, Gabriella lifted her chin right as Nicholas stopped in front of her, smiling his charming smile. Before he spoke, however, Maryanne drew in a sharp breath as her gaze settled on Gabriella’s face.
“You’re that girl from the shop, aren’t you?” she asked, not allowing Gabriella a chance to respond before she continued. “Miss McArthur told me, after I admired your gown, that she’d learned your name is Miss Goodhue, and I thought it sounded familiar, and now I know why. You hemmed the very gown I’m wearing tonight. What in the world are you doing at the Linwood ball?”
“Miss Goodhue is friends with Mrs. Linwood,” Nicholas said, removing his arm from Maryanne’s hold. He reached out, took Gabriella’s gloved hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kissed it.
The second she felt his lips through the silk fabric of her glove, a frisson of heat raced through her, a heat that staggered her because, if she wasn’t much mistaken, the heat was a direct result of Nicholas’s touch as well as a result of a most disturbing idea that suddenly sprang to mind.
While she’d been telling herself that what she and Nicholas shared was merely a friendship, that wasn’t really the truth at all, and certainly explained her reluctance to vet more ladies for him.
Panic began swirling through her as she realized the truth. She was attracted to Nicholas, incredibly so. That mean she was in very real danger because her life would most assuredly be shattered, just like it had been when she was twelve, when he effectively abandoned her again and settled down with whatever society lady he decided would suit him.
Forcing herself to refrain from snatching back the hand he was still holding, Gabriella opened her mouth but was spared a response when Maryanne released a bit of a huff.
“I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with Miss Goodhue, Nicholas,” Maryanne said, which earned her a frown from Nicholas as he finally released Gabriella’s hand.
“And I wasn’t aware we’d decided to address each other so informally in public, Miss Allen, but as for Miss Goodhue, yes, I’ve known her for years. She’s a very dear friend of mine.”
And just like that, in the middle of a society ballroom of all places, Gabriella knew with the utmost certainty that Nicholas had, indeed, stolen his way into her heart again.
Maryanne’s brow furrowed. “How would you know a seamstress?”
“We met when we were children,” Nicholas said before he turned to Daphne. Taking hold of Daphne’s hand, he placed a kiss on it and grinned. “Miss Beekman, you’ve outdone yourself this evening. I like the cats.”
Daphne returned his grin. “They’ve come in very handy with holding people at bay.”
“I imagine they have, but forgive me, do you know Miss Allen?”
“Of course I do,” Daphne said before she winced, evidently realizing Maryanne had never met Daphne, only Miss Kaffenburgh. “Or rather, I know of her, and of her high standing in society.”
“I suppose I am well-known about the city,” Maryanne said as Nicholas performed the expected introductions.
An uncomfortable silence settled over them until Nicholas nodded to Gabriella. “May I hope not all of your dances are claimed yet?”
Gabriella swallowed a sigh even as she ignored the look of pure astonishment on Maryanne’s face. “I wasn’t planning on dancing this evening.”
Nicholas’s only response to that was an arch of a brow.
Knowing he was probably going to turn persistent about the matter, while also knowing she wouldn’t mind taking a turn with him around the floor, she handed over her dance card, more pleased than she cared to admit when he claimed not one but two of her dances. He then took Daphne’s card from her, even though Daphne muttered something about how he should have learned his lesson the last time they danced, and wrote his name twice on her card as well.
“You’re dancing with them twice?” Maryanne demanded.
“I am.”
“You only claimed one dance with me.”
“True.”
Maryanne took his arm and pulled him all of two feet away from them. “That’s insulting.”
Nicholas smiled, but it was anything but amused. “I would imagine it’s no more insulting than my discovering how much you and your mother fawned over Mrs. Kaffenburgh the other day, hoping to secure an invitation to London, where you were hoping to become better acquainted with Lord de Bourgh.”
Two bright spots of color stained Maryanne’s cheeks. “You’re mistaken.”
“I assure you I’m not.”
Maryanne’s mouth opened, closed, opened again, then snapped shut before she tossed a murderous look at Gabriella and stalked away without another word.
“That was smooth,” Daphne said, her lips twitching. “Do you think that type of set down can be found in any of those gentlemen’s etiquette book
s you’ve read from cover to cover?”
Nicholas winced. “Probably not. I know that wasn’t well done of me and was undeniably rude, but I didn’t care for the manner in which she spoke to either of you. I’m afraid I quite lost my head for a moment.”
“I think you can be forgiven for that,” Daphne said. “She is rude, and not just now. She was rude the other day when she shoved her way in front of other ladies to get to Gabriella and me. If you ask me, you’ve escaped the clutches of a shrew.”
Nicholas inclined his head. “Thank you for that, Daphne. And now, may I fetch both of you a glass of champagne?”
“Since you reminded all of us yesterday that ladies should not fetch their own refreshments, that would be lovely,” Gabriella said.
“And here I thought you weren’t listening to my lecture on manners.”
“I didn’t listen to all of it, but that’s only because, if you’ll recall, Precious and Winston decided they needed a walk.”
“One you most assuredly enjoyed more than my lecture. But speaking of Precious, I’m delighted to see your fear of her has disappeared.”
“It’s hard to fear a furry creature that steals into my bed and keeps my feet warm at night.”
“Too right it is,” Nicholas said before he excused himself and went off to fetch them champagne, telling them he might be delayed because he wanted to check and see if Professor Cameron, who’d been running late, had arrived at the ball yet.
“Do you think anyone would notice if I pulled out my notepad and took a few notes?” Daphne asked as Nicholas walked away. “My fingers are itching to write about Maryanne and her behavior, because I can guarantee she’s going to provide me with a great deal of inspiration for a future villainess.”
“She does suit that role rather admirably, but no, you can’t pull out your notepad because I believe Jennette and Duncan are about to dance their first dance together as husband and wife.”
