by Julia London
The crowd had become quite lively, with all of the champagne being profferred by footmen and whiskey that seemed to flow from the sap taps of snow-flocked spruce trees set up in every corner. Kate still saw no sign of Darlington, but then again, it was not unlike trying to find someone on the quays—the sea of humanity made it impossible.
She found herself in the ballroom once more. Some of the men eyed her lewdly, particularly a group of young bucks who were well on their way to falling into their cups. Kate saw other men she’d met over the years. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed to Kate as if everyone in that crowded ballroom knew the sort of woman she was. Madame Albert had told her that would happen, reminded her more than once, “No one will mistake the woman all men desire and all women envy.”
“Pardon.” The man who put himself in Kate’s path was Mr. Black.
Kate curtsied. “I beg your pardon, sir—”
“Madam,” he said, “if your dance card is not yet full, I should like to request the pleasure of a dance.”
“Ah …” Kate glanced around. People were watching. Where was Darlington? She might not be of this aristocratic , but she wasn’t exactly a sheltered debutante, either. “I should find my escort—”
“His Grace is in the gaming room,” Mr. Black said.
Kate looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“Miss Bergeron, I deserve the look of suspicion you are directing at me, but I have been an admirer of yours for very long, and while I cannot hope to entice you to share your lovely affections with me, I would be delighted to dance the next set with you, if you would be so kind.”
Kate did like to dance. And she appreciated the man’s honesty. She smiled at Mr. Black. “Thank you, my lord. It would be my pleasure,” she said, and took the hand he offered.
Grayson had waited outside the retiring rooms as long as he thought proper—considering that he had no notion of what was proper in this circumstance.
What was this circumstance, for God’s sake? He was not in the habit of interrupting lovers, but he didn’t know what to make of this arrangement, really. George had forced Grayson to give his word that he’d not allow rumors of Kate’s association with the prince to abound, yet then the prince himself had stepped into that linen closet with her in full view of his guests.
Grayson hadn’t known quite what to do. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but when two gentlemen began to jest about the prince relieving himself, he’d felt compelled to do it.
Now, the image of Kate’s shapely leg, the flush of her skin, and the prince’s hands on her were burned in his mind’s eye. That, and the detached way she’d looked at him. What had he expected, to find them holding hands?
He could not erase that image. He wanted to see her again, to look into those green eyes once more. To see what, he didn’t know.
But when he thought he’d stood outside the retiring room so long that it was starting to seem odd, he returned to the gaming rooms.
He had no luck there and finally made his way to the ballroom once more. He spotted Kate dancing with Black and sighed irritably. George despised Thomas Black, as did Grayson. Grayson noticed a group of young lords watching her, as well. They were scarcely of age, eager to prove themselves men in the usual ways: drinking, fighting, and whoring.
Grayson found that thought vaguely disquieting.
He helped himself to champagne and chatted with Lady Wilkinson.
When the dance concluded, Kate accepted the invitation of a gentleman he did not know. As she continued to dance, her smile never faltered and her energy seemed boundless.
Grayson didn’t see all of her dances, for he had many acquaintances in attendance, and he lost sight of her from time to time when he was engrossed in conversation. But when the supper hour approached, and drunken guests began to make their way to the dining hall, Grayson spotted Kate once more. This time, she was sitting alone on a blue chair. The seats on either side of her were empty. He made his way across the room to her.
She looked up as he approached her. A warm smile lit her face, and Grayson felt it trickle all the way through him.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to a chair.
“I’ll be quite cross if you don’t,” she said.
He smiled and flipped his tails, sitting beside her. The two of them stared at the crowd around them for a moment. “How have you found the evening?” he asked.
“Oh, but I am exhausted!” she said lightly. “I’ve danced all night and I am typically in bed by now.”
He glanced at her. “So early?”
“Early! It is very late, sir! I must be up every morning with the sun’s light, as I have very many things to do.”
An elderly couple standing across the way was looking at them. The lady said something to her husband and then turned her back. The gentleman’s gaze lingered on Kate, but then he, too, turned away.
Kate had seen them, too; she smiled ruefully at Grayson. “Would you be terribly disappointed if we retired from the ball?” she asked. “My feet are aching!”
She had to be the first young woman in London to want to quit a royal ball early, but Grayson was glad of it. “Would you like to dine before we take our leave?”
“Oh.” She put a hand to an earring and played with it. Grayson had the sense she was trying to think her way out of supper. “I am so weary I could scarcely eat a bite … but perhaps we might have a pastry or two.”
“Of course. What is a meeting between us without a pastry or two?” he asked, and smiled.
A sparkle flashed in her lovely eyes. “Laugh if you will, but I happen to enjoy them, and I am suspicious of a man who is so determined to avoid them.”
“That is not at all true,” he said as her rose up and offered his hand to her. “I do enjoy a sweetmeat on occasion.”
She slipped her hand into his. “Then perhaps you were in a foul mood when you had the opportunity to sample mine.”
“And you were decidedly flippant,” he said as he put her hand on his arm. “I should have complained to the prince straightaway.”
“And what might your complaint have been? Your Highness, Miss Bergeron must be drawn by a team of four into this ridiculous arrangement of yours, whereas I am most determined to be as difficult as I can be?” Kate laughed at her own joke. “You really should have tried one of my muffins, Your Grace. I believe you would have found your disposition remarkably improved.”
“Mmm,” he said skeptically, looking down at her.
“Mmm, indeed,” she retorted, smiling smartly up at him.
Neither of them looked away. Her green eyes seemed to dance with amusement and Grayson was, imprudently, captivated. Aroused. Intrigued.
“How are you, sir? I hope the evening hasn’t been too terribly vexing for you.”
He smiled down at her. “Not too terribly.”
“Well you must endure my company only once or twice more.” She gave him a coquettish smile. “Do you think you will survive it?” she whispered.
“It will be a trial, but I think I might.”
She laughed. “I promise to be gentle,” she assured him.
He really rather hoped she wouldn’t be.
Chapter Fourteen
Two days after the ball, Lord and Lady Eustis were breaking their fast at their very fashionable town home on Upper Grosvenor Street.
They were served poached eggs, dry toast, and tea, as was the case every morning Charles was in residence. When he was away, Diana had an orange and coffee, which was her preference, a fact her husband generally ignored. He thought eggs were vital to a person’s constitution.
Diana thought making love with Grayson was vital to her constitution. She missed him terribly.
As Charles ate his eggs, Diana read the morning Times. She was riveted to the society page and the on dits there.
A large crowd attended the Twelfth Night Ball, celebrating the end of the Christmas Season at Carlton House.
“Diana, Hatt tells me that you
have doubled the coal allotment for your girl.”
“Pardon?” Diana asked, looking up from the paper.
“The coal allotment for your personal maid,” Charles repeated, frowning lightly. “Hatt said you doubled it.”
“Yes?”
“What have you to say for yourself?”
The man had a fortune of fifty thousand pounds, and he worried about an extra bit of coal? “She … she was cold, dearest.”
“I suspect all the servants are a bit cold; after all, it is the heart of winter. I have instructed Hatt to return the girl’s coal rations to the proper level for her position.”
Diana swallowed. “Charles, please,” she said. “It is such a trifling thing and it has been unusually cold this winter.”
“I suppose it is a trifling thing to those who do not pay for it,” he sniffed, and picked up his morning paper.
So quick to tighten the purse strings! “Perhaps … perhaps you might take it out of my allowance,” Diana suggested uncertainly.
That brought Charles’s balding head up. He peered closely at her over the tops of his spectacles. “To purchase coal for your maid?” he asked incredulously.
Diana nodded.
He studied her a moment, then shrugged. “As you wish,” he said, and resumed his morning reading.
With a silent sigh of relief, so did Diana.
The supper consisted of twelve courses, including pheasant in a cranberry sauce …
“Have you corresponded with my sister recently?” Charles asked, drawing Diana’s attention away from the review of the prince’s ball.
“Elizabeth?”
Charles rolled his eyes. “Have I any other sister?”
Damn him, but he had a way of making her feel so … small. “No … but I had a letter from her just before Christmas.”
“Yes. And she complained that she had no response from you. She kindly offered that as you are in London, you must be preoccupied with social events.”
“I shall write her straightaway,” Diana said.
“Please see that you do.”
Diana glanced again at the paper, skimming past the ball’s menu and the review of the fashionable gowns.
The dancing was commenced with HRH the Prince of Wales taking his place with HRH the Princess Charlotte, who performed the Cotillion admirably well under a light dusting of “snow.” All dances were pleasingly done. It was noted by more than one observer that Lady B—— took her place across from Lord F—— on three sets. Yet perhaps nothing was quite as surprising as seeing the duke of D—— stand up on the second set and partner with a diamond of the first water, who is perhaps known in many salons as one who is devoted to fine fabrics and clothing. Of late, it would seem that her devotions have spread beyond fabrics. The lady partnered with other notables, such as HRH and Lord B——.
Diana did not read the rest of it. She stared blindly at the words, trying to picture it: Grayson dancing! With a diamond of the first water. But Grayson did not dance. He could not dance, not with his hearing so peculiarly affected by music.
“I think I should like to ride down to Bath and partake of the waters,” Charles said as a serving girl picked up his empty plate. “My knees ache in damp weather.”
Because he was an ancient specimen, Diana thought. He was fifteen years her senior, but sometimes seemed much older than that. “I am very sorry to hear it,” she said.
“I should like you to accompany me,” Charles added.
Diana blanched. “To Bath? Now?”
“Yes, now,” he said. “There is time before the Season begins, and the weather in Bath is more pleasant than it is in London.”
“Yes, darling, but there are many things that must be done before the Season begins.”
“Such as?”
“Such as proper clothing and invitations—”
“My secretary can see to all that.”
As if his secretary, who was even older than Charles, could see to her clothing! “How … how long did you have in mind?”
He cocked his head to one side and considered her. “Perhaps a week. Perhaps longer. Why do you ask? Have you something more important than fittings planned?”
“There is the Ladies’ Beneficent Society tea next week. My charity work is very important to me.”
Charles smiled indulgently as he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I think they can manage to be charitable without you, sweetheart.”
How Diana managed to keep her expression calm was nothing short of a miracle. “Do you mean to leave soon?” she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice.
“In a few days. Your eggs are untouched, dear. Do please eat them—it would not do to waste them.”
“Charles—”
“Diana, please do not argue,” Charles said curtly. “It is not as if I am asking you to up and sail to France, is it? I should like to take the waters at Bath, and I should like to have my wife with me. It’s all quite simple and not open to debate. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, darling.” She had to think of something. She could not leave Grayson here now with that woman, the diamond of the first water, while she attended bloody Charles in bloody Bath.
Grayson’s sisters were entirely too titillated by the idea that he’d danced at a ball. Mary sent him a note, appar ently before the ink had dried on her copy of the Times, demanding he come around and give her all the details of his dance. Prudence pounced on him the moment he entered her drawing room later that afternoon to see his mother. “You danced!” she cried, throwing her arms wide.
“I danced,” Grayson said, kissing his sister. “I have danced before. It is not as shocking as that.”
“Who was she?” Prudence demanded. “I must know the identity of the mysterious lady who beguiled my brother into dancing, for I do not know her, of that I am sure. And the only woman I know who is devoted to her clothing is Ginny, and as she is not in London, it was obviously someone else.”
“Prudence! Stop interrogating your brother!” his mother said from her seat at a small round table where she was taking tea. “It is neither here nor there who His Grace stood up with, it is nothing but gossip. Will you please go and see about your beautiful boys so that I might have a word with my son?”
Prudence sighed heavily. “Very well, Mamma.” She looked at Grayson, her eyes narrowing. “But I’m not through with you, dear brother,” she warned as she flounced out.
“Mother, you look very well,” Grayson said.
“Of course I do! I am as fit as that young man there,” the duchess said irritably as she gestured vaguely to the pair of footmen who stood against the wall. “Never mind that—will you please explain to your poor mother why, with all the comely, suitable young ladies in attendance at the prince’s ball, you were possessed to stand up with a … a cloth merchant’s woman and draw such attention to yourself? Do you realize what speculation is spinning around London just now? The whole of the ton believes you have taken that woman as your mistress!”
She had indeed heard an earful from Lady Babington, just as Grayson expected she would. “I asked her to dance, because …” He paused to kiss his mother’s cheek. “She is very comely.”
“Oh Darlington, really!” his mother said, her voice softer. “You know very well my meaning! You are a duke with a reputation to protect. And as you dance so rarely, you really must have a care who you stand up with. Your father never danced with anyone but family after we were married, and he was the model of decorum and restraint before we were wed. Now, everyone is talking about your dancing.”
“My dancing?” Grayson smiled. “I realize my steps were deplorably bad, but I would hope there was little more than that to be said of it.”
His mother smiled wryly. “Not your dancing, my love. The lady … if she may indeed be called a lady.” She gestured to one of the footmen. “Stevens, do come and pour the duke some tea.”
“No, thank you,” Grayson said. “I cannot stay, Mother
. I wanted only to see that you are well.” He took her hand in his and lifted it up, kissing her knuckles. “And by the bye, Your Grace, it was merely a dance. It was not a compromising situation. I did not offer for her hand. It was a single dance. You are unduly aggravated.”
“I will be the judge of whether I am unduly aggravated,” the duchess said primly. “What will your brothers think? I have a devil of a time keeping them in check as it is.”
“They will think that I danced with a beautiful woman,” he said, and tried to let go of her hand.
But his mother held on to his and whispered loudly, “Lady Babington informs me that the lady in question is a courtesan.”
She spoke as if she had just uttered an unthinkable curse word, and to a woman of fine breeding and impeccable morals, he supposed it was. Grayson hesitated to answer—Kate was a courtesan, but oddly, that fact did not seem as objectionable to him as it had when he’d first made her acquaintance.
“Well?”
“She is. What of it?”
His mother sighed. She let go of his hand and picked up her spoon. “I would remind you that the Prince of Wales has lost the support of the people because he sees nothing wrong with keeping the company of the demimonde.” She slowly stirred her tea.
Lord help him. He was a duke in his own right, a grown man, and he was still subjected to the occasional maternal scolding. “You must not worry and you must not allow Lady Babington to put such thoughts into your head.”
“Lady Babington put no thoughts in my head. They all leapt there of their own accord when I heard the news,” she said, wiggling her fingers at her head. She sighed heavenward. “I have too many children. That is yet another thought that leaps to mind—too many of you to look after properly.”
Grayson chuckled. “I am happy to see you well and in fine spirits, Mother. If you will excuse me, I’ve only a moment to see my nephews, and then I must be off.”
“For heaven’s sake, do stay off the floor. Oh, and please, if you would be so good as to call on your brother?” she added as Grayson started to the door. “Merrick seemed rather discouraged about rounding up enough votes for the abolition.”