by Julia Parks
Maddie chuckled at this and said, “How do you plan to accomplish this? I know that Lady Olivia has been on the town for a number of Seasons, and she has yet to accept an offer. What makes you think you can come up with someone who will change her mind?”
“You’re right, but I must do something.”
“Then marry her yourself,” said Maddie.
“Maddie, you must be mad. You know I don’t want a wife, and I am the last person she would accept. No, there has to be someone...someone worthy and yet, exciting. Someone new. Surely with all the officers who served against Napoleon coming home, there will be someone new.”
“You are not speaking of Richard, I hope. He is hardly marriage material for one such as Lady Olivia.”
“No, no. I had not considered him. Although, they seem to be getting along very well, but I fear Richard is only after a bit of dalliance.”
“Very probably. He is not worth anything else.”
Sheridan shot her an inquiring glance, but she ignored it. A moment later, he snapped his fingers and said, “I have it. Is there anyone who has come home wounded? Not too badly, just enough to make him interesting to a female who likes fixing things.”
“Perhaps you should place an advertisement in the Post,” she quipped.
“No, but I shall ask Richard.”
“If Richard is busy trying to seduce the lovely Olivia, then it is unlikely that he will want to help you find a suitably impaired suitor,” observed Maddie.
“True, I hadn’t thought of that.” Sheridan mulled this over for a moment. “He need not know why I want to locate such a man. I shall tell him I need someone—a career officer whose injuries have forced him to retire—to help with my charities.”
“That might entice him,” she said doubtfully.
“Yes, and for now, I shall question Lady Olivia about her willingness to give such a gentleman a chance. I think I know the answer,” he said as they strolled into the ballroom. He spied his quarry among the dancers and grimaced. She was laughing at something her partner said, enjoying herself immensely. “Perhaps I should look for someone who is still fit enough to haul himself about the dance floor.”
“Speaking of that, where is your cane? I nearly fell over when I realized you had not brought one.”
“I had thought to dance,” he said.
“With me?” she asked. “How kind of you, Sheri.”
“Maddie, I…well, why not. I certainly won’t mind dancing with you,” he grumbled.
“You are too kind. Your flattery is going to turn my head, Lord Sheridan.”
“All right. Will you honour me with the next dance, my dear Lady Thorpe?”
“I would be delighted,” she replied, taking his arm.
The dance was a quadrille. Sheridan found he had to concentrate on the steps. He had danced so seldom in the past few years. As he watched the other gentlemen in his square and followed their lead, he realized how foolish he would have looked to attempt dancing with Lady Olivia. And the waltz…the only time he had tried that had been the past Christmas when Rebekah had plagued him so to practice with her.
Maddie was good company. She never asked foolish questions. Her conversation was as rational as any man’s. It was a shame that her marriage had been unhappy. He could have predicted it. Thorpe had had a reputation as a depraved man. She should have wed Richard, but he had been hot to join a regiment and see some action. Poor Maddie. Still, now that she was a widow, she seemed quite content.
When the steps of the dance brought them together again, he asked impulsively, “Are you happy, Maddie?”
“Happy? Why do you ask me that, Sheri?”
“It occurred to me that you might not be, and I would want to help, if I could.”
“I am quite…content, and I think contentment is all I need for the moment.”
“So widowhood is satisfactory. ”
She giggled and pressed his hand. “If you think you are going to help me find a husband, you are wide of the mark, Sheri. I have said it before, and I will say it again. Nothing could make me wed again. Surely you, of all people, can understand that. You feel much the same, do you not?”
“Yes, yes, of course I do.”
“Then please believe me when I say that I am quite content to remain unwed. I will let you know, however, if that should change. Perhaps you should go into the business of matchmaking. Hang out a shingle.”
The steps separated them again, and Sheridan gladly let the subject fall. Why was he suddenly so obsessed with marriage? He shuddered and reminded himself that it was only Lady Olivia’s marriage state that bothered him. From now on, he would concentrate on her and her alone.
The music drew to a close. Everyone stopped as the musicians played a fanfare, Lord Featherstone was standing on the small dais, slightly elevated above the guests.
“Before we have the musicians play the supper dance—a waltz, by the way—we have an announcement to make.” He signalled his daughter and Lord Hardcastle to join him. “We are pleased to announce the betrothal of our dear daughter, Fanny, to Lord Hardcastle. Please, join me in a toast.”
The footmen had been busily circulating with trays of glasses, and after a glance around the room, Lord Featherstone said, “To the happy couple!”
‘To the happy couple!” cheered the crowd.
“Now, back to the festivities.”
The musicians played a short introduction to the melody while the guests found their partners.
Sheridan opened his mouth to speak to Maddie and found Lady Olivia had appeared at his side in her place.
Quickly recovering from the surprise, he said, “My lady, you do not dance?”
“I fear I have not been asked for this particular set,” she said, casting her blue eyes to the ground as she sighed.
“Would you do me the honour?” he asked, noticing that his mouth had gone suddenly dry.
“It would be a pleasure,” she said, stepping into his arms.
“I warn you, I am unaccustomed to dancing, especially the waltz.”
“It is not so very difficult,” she said, smiling up at him.
Her eyes were as blue as the aquamarine she wore around her neck. He shook himself mentally and concentrated on the steps.
They were silent for the first three turns around the room. Finally, the silence became uncomfortable, and Lady Olivia cleared her throat.
“We do not have to dance, if you would prefer to sit out quietly. I am probably making a mull of this,” he said.
“No, I am enjoying myself, and you are doing very well. No one would guess you have not been practicing,” she said.
“Thank you,” he replied. After a moment, he said, “I suppose you like dancing very much.”
“Yes, I do.”
“And it is something you would not wish to give up.”
“No, I enjoy it too much—even when my partner is not as graceful as you, my lord.”
“Now you are flattering me. I know there are others here who could dance circles around me. You could, I am certain.”
“I suppose,” she said. “But where would be the fun of that?”
“I mean, you would not wish to wed someone who could not dance with you on occasion.”
Olivia’s heart jumped into her throat, and she made a little strangled noise.
“This…this is a very strange conversation, my lord.”
He seemed to brush this off and said, “I was just wondering. Look, there is your aunt, heading to the supper room with Mr. Jenson. I was surprised to see him here.”
“I told him we would be attending. I knew he had probably received an invitation. Despite the fact that he chooses not to travel in the same circles as us, he is from a good family. His father was the local squire in t
he village where my mother and my aunt grew up.”
“He seems a very nice fellow. I thought your aunt would have an apoplexy, however, when he asked her to dance.”
“He asked her to dance?”
“Indeed he did. She turned him down in no uncertain terms. I was sitting with her and could not bear the crushed look in his eyes. I got up and offered him my seat. I think they were both relieved with that solution.”
“How wonderful!” said Olivia. “He comes to this ball because he knows she will be here, and then he actually asks her to dance with him. How romantic! This is progressing very nicely indeed.”
“This?” asked Sheridan, smiling down at her. “You are not by any chance indulging in a bit of match-making?”
She tried to appear innocent, but the effort was too much, and she ruined the effect by giggling.
“Would it not be wonderful? I know there is some link between them in the past. She has hardly spoken to him for years, but now, she seems ready to forgive him for whatever transgression he may have committed. I think it is marvellous.”
Her expression dared him to contradict her, but he only agreed, adding, “Why should they not find each other after all these years?”
“Why not, indeed.” Olivia’s heart thumped loudly in her breast as he smiled at her again.
They finished their waltz in a companionable silence. Olivia could not remember when she had felt so comfortable while performing the waltz.
Always before, she had worried that this gentleman might hold her too close or that another might not hold her tightly enough, and she would find following his lead impossible. Lord Sheridan, though his first steps had been tentative, seemed to know instinctively how to hold her and guide her. It was as if she could guess his every subtle move, and he could guess hers.
Being in his arms simply felt right. She would have loved to put her head on his shoulder. Better than that, to have kissed him again would have been heaven.
“You are flushed, are you feeling all right?”
“I…I am fine, my lord. As a matter of fact, I have never been better,” she added, and he smiled.
Chapter Eight
The music ended and all the guests began to drift toward the dining hall where a huge buffet supper had been laid. Olivia hung back, suddenly realizing that she was on the arm of the marquess, who was sure to sit with his small band of misanthropists. What could she, a perpetual optimist, have to say to this group of disdainful fashionables?
“There is Sir Richard. Shall we join him and Lady Thorpe?” he asked.
“Yes, I suppose so. I am not well acquainted with Lady Thorpe.”
“You’ll like Maddie. She puts up with a great deal from Richard and me, but she keeps coming back. We were all children together, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know,” said Olivia. She allowed him to lead her toward his friends, reminding herself that she should be happy in anyone’s company with Sheridan by her side. When she had lied to Sir Richard about already having plans for the supper dance, she had hardly dared to hope that she would be with Lord Sheridan.
“Maddie, you know Lady Olivia, do you not?”
“Certainly. Won’t you be seated, my lady? I was about to send Richard off to fix me a plate. I hate being squeezed all about at these affairs, don’t you? Sheri, why don’t you and Richard run along and get us a little something?”
When the two men had left, Olivia smiled and said, “It is a lovely ball, isn’t it?”
“As balls go, I suppose. I am glad to see that your friend Lord Hardcastle finally came up to scratch. Miss Featherstone is a delightful ninny—a distant connection of mine. They should rub along very well together.”
“Tony is a dear. We used to play together as children. Rather like you, Lord Sheridan, and Sir Richard.”
“Not exactly, though. Although I do remember that you and Lord Hardcastle were once rumoured to be…”
“Not at all. That was when we were both new to London. We were not seriously considering it. Do you mean that you and Lord Sheridan…?”
“Sheri? Goodness, no. He is by far too serious for me, always has been. No, there was a time when Richard and I talked about marriage. Still, I was destined for money, and Richard, he was mad to join the army. In the end, it came to nothing.”
“But now that he is home and you are widowed?”
“No, I fear that particular flame was not strong enough to withstand the winds of time.” She changed the subject and said, “I understand that you do a great deal of charity work.”
Olivia raised her brows. Surely, Lord Sheridan had not confided in Maddie about her visit to Vauxhall.
Cautiously she agreed.
“There is a school, I believe.”
Olivia relaxed and smiled again. “Yes, and Mr. Pendleton has agreed to give us a parcel of land so that we may move the children to a larger facility outside London.”
“That is good of him. I only ask because I recently had a letter from my old governess, and she is at loose ends again. I thought if you might have a vacant post, I could write to her. She is a wonderful woman, though she is getting too old to be forever moving from place to place as her charges outgrow her.”
“When we move, we are sure to need more teachers because we will have twice the space and will be seeking more children. Do write to her, and give her my direction,” said Olivia.
“Your direction? I had thought to give her the address of the headmistress.”
‘That would be fine, too. I shall tell Mrs. Priddy about her so that she will be expecting her letter.”
“You really are involved with this,” said Lady Thorpe. With a frown, she added, “It makes me feel quite selfish with the little that I do.”
“Not at all. I enjoy seeing the children. They are so funny. And then there is my servant, Harold. He adores the children, and they love him, too. He visits there more often than I do.”
“You know, Lady Olivia, there is an interesting side to you that does not show when you are merely seen across the ballroom. It is no wonder Sheri is so wrapped up in your concerns.” Olivia’s eyes opened wide, and Lady Thorpe patted her hand. “Do not worry, my dear. I know how to keep a confidence. Besides, I only meant that Sheri has all his various charities that he supports. You two have a great deal in common. Oh, good, here are the gentlemen with our plates.”
The two men set the plates down in front of the ladies. Lady Thorpe took her fork and moved something greyish brown to one side.
Her nose winkling in disgust, she said, “You should know better than to get me any paté, Richard. You know I never eat goose liver.”
“And I keep telling you, Maddie, you should try it. It’s good.”
“It is not,” said Olivia. “I tasted it once, and that was all I needed.”
“There, I knew the two of you would get along exceedingly well,” said Sir Richard. “Now we can all be comfortable together.”
“Quite comfortable,” said Lord Sheridan. “Though perhaps not as comfortable as your aunt and the good doctor,” he said, nodding toward a corner table where Olivia’s aunt and Mr. Jenson were talking quietly.
“How lovely,” said Olivia, smiling at the couple.
“Ah, love is in the air,” said Sir Richard, winking at Olivia. “Just like I told you last night.”
She bowed her head to hide her blush, willing him to say nothing more. Her new friend, Lady Thorpe, came to her rescue by diverting everyone’s attention to the huge ice sculpture in the centre of the buffet.
‘That thing is decidedly lopsided, don’t you think? Look, the mast is about to break off.”
“It is all the candles in here,” said Lord Sheridan.
“And all the people,” added Olivia.
“Yes, and in a few minutes,
that spear of ice is going to fall across all that beautiful food,” said Sir Richard. “I wager ten guineas that it happens in the next three minutes.”
Lord Sheridan laughed and said, “No, it will take longer. I say another ten minutes.”
“Eight,” said Lady Thorpe.
“Don’t you want to place a wager, Lady Olivia?” asked Sir Richard.
“Me, I have never wagered on anything but a hand of silver loo.” They all gaped at her, and she said, “Very well, I say it will take at least fifteen minutes for the ice to melt enough that the mast breaks off the ship.”
“Fifteen minutes?” said Lord Sheridan. “I hope you are prepared to pay.”
“And you, my lord,” she replied with a smile.
Word of the wager spread to several other tables, and they all waited to see who would win. As the company began to migrate back to the ballroom, several footmen came in to straighten the buffet table. One of them reached up to remove the ice sculpture, and everyone yelled at once.
The footman was so frightened that he scampered back to the kitchens empty handed.
‘Twelve minutes,” said Lord Sheridan. “I’m out.”
“Now we have only to wait and see if the beautiful Lady Olivia will prove successful,” said Sir Richard. ‘Three more minutes now.”
Two more minutes passed, and still they waited, “I don’t think any of us are going to win,” said Lady Thorpe.
“Another minute and we’ll know.”
There was a crackling sound, and the remaining guests in the dining room gasped. Olivia giggled.
“If anyone had told me I would be sitting here waiting on a…there it goes!”
The icy ship’s spindly mast fell the length of the table, sending food and platters flying. Servants came running while everyone laughed.
“Shall we get back to the ballroom? I am hoping you will grant me another dance, Lady Olivia,” said Sir Richard.
“Certainly,” she replied.
“What about you, Maddie?” said Lord Sheridan.
“Me? I am going home. I have danced, I have played cards, and I have dined. Quite enough for one night. The three of you run along.”