Carriages waited in a long line to drop off passengers. A strolling group of musicians wandering along the front walkway heightened the festive mood by entertaining the guests who were waiting to enter.
Once inside, Charles deposited the two ladies with the maid in the ladies’ dressing room. There, they divested themselves of their cloaks and took a moment to check their reflections before rejoining Charles in the main foyer.
“I have your dance programs,” he said, holding up the two small booklets with silk tasseled cords hanging from them. He held open the loop of cord and helped his mother slide it onto her left wrist, then did the same for Catherine.
Catherine glanced at the newest group of guests as they arrived. Their faces glowed with anticipation. This should be one of the most entertaining balls of the season.
Upon entering the ballroom, Catherine stayed close to her brother as the trio found themselves swept into the crush of people. Charles guided them through the crowded room toward a pair of empty chairs. Mother settled into one of them and consulted her dance card.
“Charles, dear, please escort your sister to the floor for the first dance. It’s a quadrille, and I so enjoy seeing you dance together. It reminds me of watching you practice when you were children.”
As they moved onto the dance floor, Charles leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Do you remember how we danced only as long as someone was watching us? As soon as we were alone, we’d grab Father’s foils and masks from the cabinet and start fencing.” His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at her.
Fencing. The thought of it sent a painful jolt of regret through her, causing her mask of serenity to slip. She tried to push down the unwanted emotion. It had no place here, in this glittering ballroom.
“Yes, I remember,” she replied briefly, wishing she’d already confided in him. He couldn’t know how his comment tormented her.
He shot her a quizzical look, but as they reached the dance floor, they separated to take their positions for the quadrille. Watching her brother as they weaved in and out of the intricate dance pattern, she began to relax. As always, she enjoyed the quadrille, and her brother was an excellent partner who never missed a step.
When they were done, Charles escorted her back to her chair. Catherine’s steps faltered when she recognized both Lord Stansbury and M LeCompte sitting with her mother, deep in conversation.
Stansbury was the last person she wanted to see sitting in a cozy little cluster with her mother and that rumor-monger LeCompte. She was tempted to turn around, but LeCompte looked up at that moment, catching sight of her.
“Ah, mademoiselle,” LeCompte said, springing to his feet to greet her, “how delightful to see you here this evening. I was hoping you would do me the honor of joining me for this dance?” He smiled politely, awaiting her reply.
“Of course. It would be my pleasure,” Catherine replied, taking the arm he extended to her.
“May I, too, request the pleasure of a dance, Lady Catherine?” interjected Stansbury. He had not risen to his feet as quickly as LeCompte, and was in a half-standing, half-bowing position as he spoke. “Perhaps for the next waltz,” he suggested, “since you’re otherwise engaged for the current dance.”
He’d trapped her. By making the request in front of an audience, he’d ensured she wouldn’t reject it, as doing so would make a scene. Even so, she would have said no if not for LeCompte’s keen eyes watching the entire exchange. She didn’t want the Frenchman to read too much into her dislike of the earl. LeCompte’s avid curiosity would have him searching for an explanation for such an extreme breach of etiquette.
Annoyed with Stansbury’s manipulation of the situation, she still managed to give LeCompte a serene smile as they departed for the dance floor. Stansbury’s satisfied smirk only served to increase her irritation, and she watched him as he drifted back into the crowd. She had the sneaking suspicion that he’d planned the entire encounter to force her into dancing with him.
After the schottische ended, Catherine rejoined her mother only to find two more men waiting, and both reserved dances. She wished she could relax and enjoy herself, but she couldn’t with the specter of a dance with Stansbury looming.
The evening wore on, and judging by the crush of people, the ball was a huge success. Catherine noticed some people sought relief from the crowd by slipping away into an adjoining room or out into the gardens.
As the appointed time for the dreaded waltz drew near, her most recent dance partner, Lord Watters, pushed his way through the crowd in order to return her to her mother’s side. It had become more and more difficult to move through the crowded ballroom as the evening progressed and new guests continued to arrive. As a cluster of people shifted, Catherine’s hand slipped from Lord Watters’s arm. She tried to recover her grip, but another group of guests pushed past her, separating her from her escort. He disappeared, seemingly swallowed up by the revelers.
Craning her neck, Catherine stood on her toes, searching for either Lord Watters or her mother, but she couldn’t see over the heads of the people surrounding her. She tried to get her bearings in the large, square room, but couldn’t tell which way to go. All four walls looked identical from her poor vantage point, and she’d lost all sense of direction after swirling around on the dance floor.
If only the musicians would begin to play, she’d be able to get her bearings based on their location. Unfortunately, they were taking a break between dances.
“Lady Catherine, may I be of assistance?” a man said as he took her elbow. She looked up to see the solicitous face of Lord Wentworth. He made a most unlikely savior, but a savior nonetheless.
She scrutinized his face, but could find no sign that he knew about her alter ego. “Thank you, Lord Wentworth. I’m trying to find my way back to my mother, and I seem to have lost my escort, Lord Watters.”
“How very careless of the gentleman,” he said, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. “He seems a bit cavalier with his responsibilities.” Wentworth peered over the top of the crowd. “I see your mother and Lord Spencer just ahead. Right this way.” Wentworth led her through the press of people.
“What happened to Lord Watters?” Mother raised her eyebrows upon seeing Catherine return with a different escort.
“Lost, Lady Kensington. I fear he was swallowed up by the crowd. He may not surface for hours.” Wentworth’s light banter brought a smile to Mother’s face. “The ball is becoming so crowded that it will be difficult for anyone to find their dance partners.” He edged in front of the two ladies to protect them from the buffeting of the crowd.
Catherine looked at him curiously. He was being quite courteous. She’d never seen this side of him before. Perhaps she’d misjudged him. “I haven’t seen you at any events recently, Lord Wentworth. I trust all is well?” Catherine asked.
“Why, yes. Everything is splendid. My friend, Lord Huntley, acquired a new estate, and I’ve been assisting him while he makes plans to renovate it. I only returned to town this afternoon. The Norfolk Ball is touted as one of the premier events of the season, and I didn’t want to miss it.” A grin brightened his face as he looked around. “I can see from the turnout that it’s a huge success.” He grimaced as he received an accidental elbow to the ribs from a passing guest. “Perhaps a bit too successful.”
“Lord Huntley has a new residence? How wonderful for him.” Mother nodded her approval. She did admirably well at feigning ignorance of the news. It had frequently been a topic of conversation at many events they’d attended, and Mother had been quite curious about it.
“His renovations on the main house will be extensive. He plans to update it with the most recent advances in plumbing and the like.” Wentworth cocked his head to one side. “The place is spectacular, but it will require a great deal of work to make it more comfortable. It’s lacking in some modern fundamentals. Huntley certainly has his work cut out for him, but he’s a determined fellow. I have no doubt that he’s up to the task.
” Catherine noticed that he nodded a greeting to someone she couldn’t see.
“It certainly sounds like a daunting task,” Lady Kensington said.
Lord Wentworth returned his attention to Mother. “It will be a quite the showplace. I imagine it will take at least a year or two for the workmen to complete the improvements. They are tearing into things even as we speak.”
“Do you think that means Lord Huntley will still spend a great deal of time in London?” Catherine asked. Her mother shot her a warning look, and Catherine flushed as she quickly tried to recover. “His absence has been a frequent topic of conversation of late. I’m sure his return to London will put many hearts at ease.” Her explanation sounded thin, even to her own ears.
“En garde, Lady Catherine,” Huntley’s voice came from behind her.
Mortified, she snapped her head around and found Huntley standing at her shoulder. “Lord Huntley, you startled me.” The blush deepened on her face.
Wentworth stifled a smile and said, “You’ve embarrassed the young lady, Huntley. You’re a sneaky devil to slip up behind her that way.”
Huntley offered a graceful bow of apology. “My most abject apologies, Lady Catherine. I hope you’ll forgive me.” His teasing grin made her breath catch in her throat.
Catherine flipped open her fan to flutter it, trying to hide her lingering shock at the words “en garde.” He certainly didn’t act as though he had a guilty conscience. Perhaps he really hadn’t been the source of Stansbury’s information. She forced a small laugh and flipped her fan closed. “Someone should put a bell around your neck, Lord Huntley.”
He tilted his head to one side, as if considering the idea, but then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. It would make it much too difficult for me to overhear what others are saying.”
“Be careful what you wish for, m’lord. Eavesdroppers seldom hear anything good of themselves,” she quipped.
“Ouch! You scored a direct hit. Are you saying that I’m both an eavesdropper and a scoundrel?” His mood was playful, and she began to relax. “Point to Lady Catherine.”
Upon hearing another fencing reference, Catherine hesitated, but she recovered quickly. “A direct hit? I’m surprised to hear you admit your character flaws so readily. But if the shoe fits...”
He staggered slightly, as if hit in the chest. “Another point. I seem to be dropping further and further in your estimation, Lady Catherine. You must allow me to recover. Perhaps if we dance, I can regain some measure of your esteem. Would you care to join me?”
Catherine frowned, but quickly replaced it with a bland smile. “I regret I’m already engaged for this waltz. Lord Stansbury requested I save it for him, but he hasn’t yet come for me.” And I hope the annoying man will stay away. “Perhaps, unlike you, he hasn’t been able to locate me in this crush of people.”
“What a shame for him. I’m sure he’ll be most disappointed, but his loss is my gain since I can enjoy your company while you wait for him. You look quite lovely tonight. You make me think of mermaids and the sea.” He gazed down into Catherine’s eyes, confusing her with the intensity of his expression.
The crowd shifted, and when Catherine and Huntley allowed two gentlemen cutting through the crowd to pass by, she realized they were momentarily separated from the rest of their party. Bodies pressed around them, filling in the void left by the two passing men and providing her with a strange sense of intimacy in this public setting as they were physically pushed together.
Huntley leaned down, putting his mouth close to her ear. “I want to reassure you that your secret is safe with me,” he murmured so that only she could hear. “I owe you an enormous debt of honor. You may well have saved my life, at great personal risk, and if there’s ever anything I can do to help you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Jostled from behind, Catherine stumbled against Huntley. His hands shot out to grasp her waist, preventing her from falling, nearly spanning the circumference with his firm hands.
His touch sent a vibration along the stays of her corset as though he had plucked a harp string. The heat of his palms seared through the layers of fabric, scorching her.
Huntley’s eyes widened as he, too, reacted to their touch. She felt his fingertips catch against the corset strings running up her back and hidden by the thin fabric of her gown, and she shivered at the sensation. The heat of her body reacted with the rose-scented perfume she’d applied earlier, and the scent enveloped her. Huntley pulled her closer, and she wanted nothing more than to feel the length of her body pressed against his.
A passing stranger’s elbow to her ribs brought her abruptly back to her surroundings. What was she thinking? They were in public, in a crowded room, standing right in front of her mother.
The spell broke, and his hands dropped. She stepped back as the press of the crowd eased, and she looked away.
Catherine caught her mother’s keen gaze. Her sharp eyes had seen a part of what had passed between her and the marquess. Catherine shot her a sheepish look, and a slight smile flickered across her mother’s face before it was replaced by a more stern expression.
Catherine glanced up at Huntley, tilting her head back to look at him. She watched as he surveyed the room, and his eyes locked on something she couldn’t see. The corners of his mouth tipped down.
“It appears your escort has located you after all,” he pointed out, tipping his head toward Stansbury’s oncoming figure.
Catherine froze. She’d forgotten Stansbury for a moment, along with all of her problems. Her stomach fell at the sight of the man and his intense gaze. Whatever his plans for the evening, she was now firmly in his sights. She instinctively stepped back from his approach but bumped against another guest. She was trapped by the crowd.
Huntley shifted his weight and moved between Catherine and the oncoming earl, momentarily shielding her from his approach. She looked down at her hands, clutching one another, and was startled when he laid his larger one over them. She glanced up and caught his gaze.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
No. But she bit her lip and nodded. She could do this. She tamped down her welling emotions, forcing them to submit to her control. It would be better to get the dance over with and be done with the man.
“Everything’s fine. Lord Stansbury isn’t an accomplished dancer and I fear for my toes,” she said, which was true. “But since the waltz is nearly over, I’d prefer to keep this dance with him. That is much preferable to having him request another in its place.” Seeing the look of doubt in Huntley’s face, she smiled and reassured him again. “I’ll be fine.”
“Then may I have the next dance? I wanted to speak to you again.” He swallowed. “I want to be clear on this point. Tonight, I plan to announce...”
“Lady Catherine! Did you forget our dance?” Lord Stansbury pushed his way between Catherine and Lord Huntley, keeping his back to the marquess. He snatched her arm in a possessive fashion and then turned his head slightly to the side, addressing Huntley over his shoulder. In a disdainful tone, he said, “The lady is engaged for this waltz, sir.”
Without waiting for a response, he hustled Catherine toward the dance floor through a momentary break in the crowd.
31 - A Mouse!
Stansbury pulled Catherine into the swirl of dancers, and they fell in place in the circling throng.
“It’s most unbecoming for a lady to agree to dance with one gentleman and then jilt him for another. I’d expected better of you.” He sounded like a petulant child.
Before answering, she took a deep breath and counted to three. “Truly, Lord Stansbury?” she asked, using a frigid tone. “But this waltz is more than half-finished. Since you didn’t collect me at the start of this dance, I believe you owe me an apology. I was under no obligation to wait as long as I did for you to appear.”
He scowled. “Perhaps I was a bit tardy, Catherine, but still, you should not have been chatting with another man when you were supposed to b
e with me.” His lower lip jutted out.
“Lord Stansbury,” Catherine said, her back stiffening, “I do not recall giving you permission to address me in such an informal manner. I am ‘Lady Catherine.’ After the lecture you just gave me concerning proper etiquette, I’m surprised by your lapse.”
His hand tightened at her waist. “I was under the impression that my request for your hand in marriage had altered our relationship,” he said in a clipped tone. “Rest assured, Lady Catherine, I meant no impertinence. Perhaps you simply need more time to become acquainted with me.”
The man was brazen in his persistence.
“We should not be having this conversation in public, sir. The dance floor is hardly the place for it. I believe I made myself clear regarding your attentions both when you offered for me last year and again a few nights ago when you tried to blackmail me.” Catherine tried to compose her face so that their inappropriate dance floor conversation would not draw undue attention. “My opinion has not changed, and I would prefer not to discuss it any further.” She instilled a note of finality in her voice, hoping to put an end to the subject.
As they rounded the far end of the dance floor, a gap opened near the entrance to the ballroom. Stansbury used the momentum of their steps to swing them out into the surrounding group of people, nearly barreling over the few who stood there.
“We need to finish our discussion now, Lady Catherine,” he said as he pressed her through one of the arched, curtained doorways with one arm still wrapped firmly around her waist. They emerged in a long hallway.
“Perhaps through here.” He hustled her into a nearby room. Guests lingering in the hallway watched their passage with open mouths.
Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 18
