It was his own fault for having to find a new tailor who would work overtime when his regular man wouldn’t, and since he was already paying him extra for the rush, he didn’t want to spring for the extra expense of soft wool. But his exaggerated complaints did what he’d intended. Blythe looked much more relaxed now, even seemed to be holding back a laugh.
He added, “And might I say, you look quite fetching tonight.” She was done up grandly for the night in her pink-and-white ball gown. Blond hair, green eyes, plump in the right places, good bones, she wasn’t a beauty by any means, but she was pretty nonetheless, far more so than some of the other young debutantes present. A little short, perhaps, but so were many of the men in attendance.
A slight blush touched Blythe’s cheeks. “You’ve already said, but thank you again.”
“And what’s that you were given at the door when we arrived?”
She showed him the little leather-bound booklet with their host’s crest on the front that she’d already attached to her wrist. “I know this is your first ball just as it is mine, but surely you learned about dance cards when you were taught to dance?”
Devin chuckled. “One of those classes I barely paid attention to.”
She gasped. “You can dance, can’t you?”
“I think I can manage that.”
“Well, the dance card includes a list of all the music that will be played by the orchestra tonight. There’s even a pencil attached. Go ahead, put your name next to one of the dances. That will reserve it for you.”
He felt like groaning as he did so. One more thing for him to worry about: Blythe’s getting her dance card filled. The problem was, this was a ball for debutantes and Blythe hadn’t been to enough parties yet to know even half the people in attendance. Devin was seeing a lot of new faces tonight as well. At first, he’d thought that Ophelia Locke had arranged this invite, which would mean Amanda would be attending, but the room was already quite full and the musicians were tuning up their instruments and he hadn’t caught sight of her, so possibly not.
The young men had been making the rounds, signing dance cards, but with the music about to start, they rushed at it now. Two of them whom Devin had already met stopped by with a greeting. Devin immediately introduced them to Blythe. They signed her card, and moments later five more men came by to sign it as well. Well, that was a relief.
He grinned at her and teasingly checked her card again. Oliver Norse had even signed it twice. What had Norse’s interests been? Devin had met so many new people this week, he was going to have to start taking notes. Boating! That was it.
“Two dances for Lord Oliver? You might mention sailing to him while you’re twirling about the dance floor,” Devin suggested. “His family owns several yachts. He’s overly fond of the subject.”
Blythe’s eyes actually lit up, making Devin wonder aloud, “Do you like boating?”
She laughed. “I don’t know! But I’ve always wanted to find out. I tried to talk Father into buying us a little sailboat when I was younger, but he called it a frivolous expense and didn’t want to hear another word about it. So I saved and saved to get one of my own, but then our parents died and I knew Will was counting every copper, so I gave up on the idea.”
“So you do have other interests? Why did you never say?”
“I like gardening, too, but as for boating, what’s the point of mentioning things that I never expected to come to pass?”
Devin rolled his eyes. “Who says they won’t? And who says you won’t marry a man who likes doing exactly what you like doing?”
“Do you like boating?”
He didn’t hear the question. The first song had begun and the dance floor was now filled with waltzing couples. Amanda Locke chose that moment to step into the ballroom with her escort, a young man of exceptional good looks.
Devin hoped he was another member of her family. The chap was too handsome. What lady wouldn’t set her cap for him if he wasn’t a relative? But Devin’s concern was merely the thought of losing the rest of Ophelia’s “gratitude” if Amanda had already made her choice without his recommendation.
He intended to try to talk to her tonight, to see if it was possible to even have a conversation with her without her temper flaring up. A ball was a perfect place for it, on the dance floor, temporarily alone, without her beaus surrounding her. He needed to find out if she was going to cooperate and take up riding again so she could be a suitable match for Goswick. If not, then Devin was going to have to find out a lot more about her before he could make any other recommendations for her.
But someone else had come with Amanda and the handsome chap, another young woman who was entering the ballroom now, hooking one of her arms around Amanda’s and the other around the handsome chap’s before leading them farther into the room. Immediately, every man there who was not currently dancing raced toward Amanda. Bloody hell, was he going to have to stand in line to sign her card?
Chapter Thirteen
REBECCA ST. JOHN BURST out laughing. “I knew we should have stayed home tonight. Arriving at a party late is permissible occasionally when a young lady is striving to make a grand entrance, but it is never, ever done at a ball when dance cards must be filled out before the dancing begins.”
Amanda’s eyes widened as she saw what Rebecca saw: men racing toward Amanda from all sides of the ballroom, a few even pushing past the couples on the dance floor to reach her more quickly. No greetings first, no time for it! For the next several minutes, Amanda’s wrist was pulled this way and that as the young bucks quickly jotted their names on her dance card, then got out of the way before the first waltz ended and the next group hurried toward her.
“This is normal for Mandy, m’dear,” Rupert told his wife. “Would have happened no matter if we were on time. You forget, I’ve been her escort before.”
“I’m afraid as a maid of honor I never had a normal Season. You wouldn’t find anyone at the palace rushing like this. Ever. Did you behave like this when you were younger?”
“Didn’t need to. The chits came to me.”
Amanda heard that and tried not to laugh. Her cousin Rue wasn’t exaggerating. Rebecca just rolled her eyes at him.
Lord Oliver was the only one who tried to engage Amanda in conversation during that mad rush, since he’d managed to sign first and refused to move away. So she didn’t actually see half the men surrounding her and could only wonder if Robert Brigston had been one of them.
Was he even at the ball? She made an effort to find out once she was on the dance floor, casually casting her eyes about the room as Lord Oliver waxed on about how spiffy she looked in her pale aqua gown, how the color made her eyes bluer, how she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever had the pleasure of . . .
She didn’t hear the rest, her eyes having passed over Devin Baldwin and shot right back to him. He was here? Well, yes, why not? The ton found him so fascinating he was still in the current gossip mill, and thus on everyone’s guest list.
He wasn’t dancing. Amanda almost smirked, thinking a brute specimen such as him probably didn’t know how to dance. And then she was annoyed at herself for even thinking about that rude man, especially now that she had Lord Brigston to think about instead. And who was that young woman Devin was standing with?
“Met him at a country party in Yorkshire last year. Nice chap, if a bit quiet.”
Her eyes snapped back to Oliver. “Who?”
He nodded to the other side of the room. “Lord Brigston. He just arrived.”
She glanced toward the entrance, but it was already empty. And she recognized everyone even remotely near it. Where had the viscount disappeared to so quickly? Then the music ended and Lord Oliver escorted her back to her cousin and hurried off to find his next partner.
Amanda had a moment to open her dance card to make sure she had an open space or two for Lord Robert to sign when he got around to signing. She didn’t look any further than the first page, her eyes stopping on Devin’s na
me next to the fifth dance. So he did dance? Or was he going to murder her feet trying? And how the deuce had she missed him signing her card, as big as he was? He must have signed her card while standing behind her and Oliver had been monopolizing her attention.
John Trask bowed formally over her hand when he arrived to dance with her, then gave her a cheeky grin that made her laugh as he led her out to the dance floor. She’d met John last Season, they must have conversed a dozen times, yet what, really, did she know about him? Or any of these young men for that matter? She really had been counting on love at first sight to settle the matter of a husband for her, and because it hadn’t happened yet, she’d discounted all of these fine chaps. She might have two exciting prospects right now, but one might trot off because she wasn’t a horsewoman, and she hadn’t even met the other yet. And what if neither of them would do? She’d have to start over, wouldn’t she? What a daunting thought!
She decided to give Lord John her full attention. She did recall that he had a good sense of humor. Like Oliver, John was one of her beaus who could easily make her laugh. But she couldn’t remember a single other thing about him, so she spent the entire dance asking him questions she’d probably asked him before! Hopefully he wouldn’t point that out.
An earl’s son, but third born, John wasn’t in line for his father’s title. He enjoyed betting on the races. Who didn’t? But once horses were mentioned, he didn’t want to talk about anything else. Another horse enthusiast? John was one of her more handsome admirers with dark brown hair and eyes, tall, strapping, though not nearly as muscular as . . . she cut short that thought. Whyever was she comparing him to Devin Baldwin?
The dance ended and her next partner was already waiting for her, chatting with her cousin, though he broke that off the moment she arrived. But Amanda couldn’t concentrate on him a’tall, not when the very next dance had been claimed by Devin Baldwin.
She’d have to tell him she wouldn’t dance with him. But what if he took offense and embarrassed her over it, outspoken as he was? She didn’t doubt he would, too, that brute. Very well, she’d dance with him, but only to find out why he even wanted to dance with her. Just to insult her some more? She was afraid he was going to say something to infuriate her again and she’d end up making a scene she’d never live down. Could she control her temper long enough to get through one dance? She could, of course she could, she’d bite her tongue if she had to.
He looked so handsome tonight in his formal togs, quite the most handsome man in attendance—well, unmarried man anyway. It was hard to find a more handsome man than her own cousin Rupert St. John. But she could see why some of the debs were fascinated by Devin as Larissa had mentioned, though they probably hadn’t actually spoken to him yet and found out how rude he actually was! And where the deuce was Lord Robert? He was supposed to be handsome, too, but she still hadn’t spotted him. She’d seen Devin during each of the last three dances, and he hadn’t been dancing, not even with his companion, who had danced the last two sets.
Then the moment arrived. Devin stood before her and bowed politely. At least he didn’t drag her straight off to the dance floor. He gave her a moment to introduce him to her chaperones.
“The infamous Cupid?” Rupert said, and laughed. “Good God, man, I expected to see a short, chubby little fellow, not a bloody Corinthian.”
“Be nice, Rue,” Rebecca scolded.
“I’m always nice,” Rupert rejoined, and kissed Rebecca’s cheek. “Anyone brave enough to give Mabel Collicott a setback is a man after my own heart. He knows I’m teasing.”
“You heard about that?” Devin said with a grin.
“Phelia overheard it. She is a member of the family, you know.”
“Yes, Lady Amanda’s family is quite large.”
The music hadn’t started yet, but Devin held out his arm to Amanda and walked her to the front of the crowd circling the dance floor. She was surprised at how well behaved he’d been with her family, but she braced herself, expecting the worst now that he’d taken her away from them, only to find it was to meet his companion!
“Be polite,” he whispered in an aside to Amanda before he said to his friend, “Blythe, I don’t believe you’ve met Lady Amanda Locke yet. Your brother and I went to a party at her sister-in-law’s house earlier in the week.” And to Amanda: “You’re acquainted with Blythe’s brother, the Honorable William Pace.”
Amanda was too incredulous for words and barely heard the rest of what he’d said. He hadn’t really just whispered “Be polite” to her, had he? She had to have misheard him.
Blythe smiled. “A pleasure, my lady. Is this your first Season in London, too?”
Amanda saw the way the girl had looked at Devin with adoration in her eyes before she glanced at Amanda. Another debutante who’d set her cap for him? But then the girl’s question registered with her and Amanda stiffened. Did the young woman know it wasn’t her first Season or was she just being sociable in asking? Whom was she kidding? Everyone knew by now that Amanda was on her third Season. That was quite a catty remark Blythe Pace had just made.
Hate at first sight, now that wasn’t hard to achieve a’tall.
Chapter Fourteen
THE MUSIC HAD STARTED up again, Lord Oliver arrived to escort Blythe to the dance floor, and then Devin said to Amanda, “Shall we?”
Amanda understood now. He was Blythe’s chaperone, so he would have to attend her when she wasn’t dancing. But why him instead of Blythe’s brother?
But the thought went out of her head as Devin Baldwin’s hand clasped hers for the waltz and the fingers of his other hand, which should only have barely touched her waist, gripped her quite firmly. She was too close to him! Even at the permissible distance, which wasn’t really close a’tall, it felt too close. With him. It took her a moment to realize it must be because his chest and shoulders were much wider than those of the men with whom she was accustomed to dancing. That width plus his height made it seem as if he were surrounding her.
“You don’t remember meeting my best friend, do you?” Devin asked.
“Who?”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
Her lips tightened. “No. Who are we even talking about? Blythe’s brother?”
“Yes. He was with me the other night. You met him last year.”
She shrugged. “He looked vaguely familiar, but, no, I don’t remember ever meeting the chap who was with you at Phelia’s party.”
“Perhaps that’s part of your problem. You—”
She stiffened. “I don’t have a problem, and if I did, I wouldn’t be discussing it with you.” She might as well have saved her breath for he continued on as if she hadn’t interrupted him.
“—meet all these men, then promptly forget them. Why is that?”
She had to bite her tongue and count to ten before she could say, “Maybe because I’ve met too many people? I’ve been at this for three years, as you well know. Why don’t you ask your friend if she can remember everyone she’s met so far.”
“She probably can, but then this is her first Season of husband shopping, so I concede the point.”
It almost sounded as if they were having a normal conversation, but they weren’t, of course. He was conceding? One little point? What about all his other nasty remarks that had been based on mere assumptions? And what about his own flagrant flouting of the rules in escorting a young woman who wasn’t a relative of his?
She wasn’t going to mention how Blythe had looked at him when Amanda had only assumed it was a look of adoration, which made it highly inappropriate for him to be her chaperone. The girl could have been thinking about some other man she was in love with and Devin had just got in the way of those pleasant thoughts when he drew Blythe’s eyes to him to introduce her to Amanda.
But after all the insults he’d dealt her, Amanda jumped at the chance to criticize him, saying, “You shouldn’t be Miss Pace’s chaperone. A proper escort for a young debutante is another woman, a relative,
or her fiancé.”
His lips turned up slightly. He found that amusing, did he? Or just that she should mention it? A man as rude as he’d been to her wouldn’t care about proper etiquette. Actually, he probably didn’t know any better.
“Well, it’s true I’m none of those,” he said. “Though it does feel like she’s a sister to me as I’ve known her for many years. And besides, tonight I’m just filling in for her brother, who was otherwise engaged this evening. They have no other relatives to call on.”
“So you’re just doing her a favor?”
“Exactly. All aboveboard. Her maid is even waiting in the coach. So you might want to add a trusted, long-standing friend of the family to that list of yours.”
She conceded that point with a nod. When she had to scramble for her own chaperones even with a big family, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have only one family member to depend on. Trusted friends would have to do in that case—no, actually, that still wouldn’t do a’tall! It would have to be a married woman friend. Amanda had chosen that option herself when she’d begged Rebecca to escort her to the first ball of the Season because she’d thought it would be much more fun to be accompanied by an old friend. But a male friend would never do. And certainly not one as young and handsome as Devin Baldwin. That was still highly irregular.
She said as much. “If her brother couldn’t attend, she should have asked a female friend of the family. Have they none?”
He chuckled. “You are persistent, aren’t you? If you must know, the invitation was mine. She’s here as my guest. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here a’tall. Her brother thought it a splendid opportunity for her to meet some new marriageable chaps, and so it is.”
Amanda could feel the blush rising and looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Yes, that did make a difference, but she wasn’t going to say so. And why were they even dancing? Just so he could criticize her again? He’d started to, but she’d stopped him by offering an explanation, and he’d conceded. She could explain away his other negative assumptions about her, too, but she wouldn’t. She could not care less what he thought—as long as he kept it to himself.
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