She glanced back and saw that Pelham had spotted Whitham, too. His face grew dark with anger. As their turn came to go down the dance, Davida asked him, “Is that not the same young man who was driving her in the curricle that day when . . .?”
“Yes,” snapped Pelham. “Stuffed shirt. Prosy bore. What can she see in him?”
“Smile while you rave, Lord Pelham, or she will see your heart on your sleeve again,” Davida told him.
Pelham glared at her for a second and then laughed. They were separated by the dance, but when they came together again, he thanked her. “I shall be merry as a grig. I won’t be caught wearing the willow for any woman!”
“That’s more like it.” Davida gave his hand an encouraging squeeze as they went down the dance again, and he rewarded her with a brilliant smile that caused her heart to give a sudden lurch.
Her next partner was Threlbourne, who frowned at the strains of the minuet. “That fusty old dance. I feel a right fool mincing about like that!”
“Let’s promenade, then,” Davida suggested. “I wouldn’t mind some lemonade, however warm it may be.”
Threlbourne quickly organized their refreshments and then led her to a grouping of young people who also appeared to disdain the minuet. It included Elspeth, Whitham, Sarah, and several others Davida did not know. One of these, a tall blond man as handsome as a Greek god, turned and clapped his strong hand on Threlbourne’s shoulder as they approached. “I shall even invite Gilbert, if he’ll introduce me to this lovely lady he’s escorting.” The look the Adonis was giving her was both assessing and approving.
“Curzon! They let you in here? Shan’t introduce a loose fish like you to such a proper young lady.”
“Never mind, do it myself. Harrison Curzon at your service.” He made an elaborate leg and then gave Davida a look so warm it put her to the blush.
“I shouldn’t reward such boldness, but I suppose I can trust the patronesses not to admit you if you are too dangerous to know. I’m Davida Gresham.” She sketched him a curtsy, dropping her eyes in embarrassment at his avid gaze.
“Too dangerous to know! That’s what Caro Lamb said of Byron. I promise you, Miss Gresham, I do not aspire to emulate that creature.” He turned back to her escort. “Tell you what—I’ll invite you along anyway, Threlbourne, if you’ll promise to bring Miss Gresham.”
“Invite me where? What’s up?”
“Oh, Elspeth and Harry were just saying how boring all these balls and routs were becoming,” Sarah interjected. “Harry is getting up a picnic on his parents’ grounds at Elmwood, as a change of pace.”
The minuet had just ended, and Pelham had strolled casually up to the group, his partner, Mary Hollings, on his arm. “A picnic? Sure to rain on any day on which you plan a picnic, Harry.”
“No, Monty, with Lady Elspeth giving it her blessing, it wouldn’t dare.”
Elspeth smiled and looked enticingly at Pelham. “Of course it wouldn’t. Do say you’ll join us, Monty, Mary. Everyone is coming.”
Pelham moved to her side. “Picnics aren’t exactly in my line, but I could be convinced.”
Elspeth looked up at him, and Davida felt a tightening in her chest that constricted her breathing. What a lovely picture they made, both so young and attractive, looking admiringly into each other’s eyes.
“I say, do you feel somewhat de trop?” Threlbourne drawled to the company at large. Knowing chuckles answered him as the group broke up, leaving Pelham and Elspeth standing together.
Threlbourne returned her to her mother, chatting amiably. When she turned, she realized that Harrison Curzon had followed them. He allowed himself to be introduced to her mother and then turned to her, eyes of ice blue compelling her attention. “Miss Gresham, do you consider our impromptu introduction sufficient grounds to grant me a dance?” He held out his hand hopefully for her dance card.
Davida accepted with pleasure. He was the first young man other than Pelham who could make her heart race with a smile and put her to the blush with a look. Furthermore, there was something very particular in his manner toward her that was encouraging.
She knew who he was, of course. Who did not? The handsome blond could hardly move without his actions being reported in the newspapers. His father was a mere baronet for life, but as wealthy as the Golden Ball, it was said. If he wanted a hereditary title, all he had to do was loan Prinny more money. Harrison Curzon was considered one of the prizes on the marriage mart. At thirty, he was believed to be seriously looking for a wife, too.
Davida’s pleasure in his interest was inexplicably washed away in the next instant when she saw Pelham and Elspeth waltzing together. It was the first waltz, the one he’d claimed he would dance with her.
Davida was not one to allow herself the megrims. She threw herself into light flirtations with the several young men who had gathered around her and Sarah as they waited out the forbidden waltz.
The dance Curzon had claimed turned out to be a boulanger. Davida was quite a good dancer and was pleased to find Curzon willing to attempt the showy, difficult dance. They spurred each other on, it seemed, as both grew very inventive with their steps. When it was over, they almost collapsed on each other, laughing.
“This is no dance for the faint of heart,” Davida gasped.
“No, indeed, nor for the shy, retiring type either.” Curzon smiled in appreciation of his partner.
“Are you suggesting that I am bold, sir?” Davida was just sufficiently touchy on the subject of her behavior to be nettled. She plied her fan with rather more vigor than the heat of the room required, giving Curzon a challenging glance over the gilded ivory tips.
“No more than is pleasing. I find little enjoyment in the company of shrinking violets.”
Curzon’s icy blue eyes seemed to darken as he looked down at her. “I hope you won’t mind if I tell you that you are quite the most attractive creature to grace Almack’s this season. Will you do me the honor of driving out with me tomorrow?”
Davida trembled a little at the warmth of that look, which seemed to suggest something far more improper than a drive. “I regret that I am promised tomorrow, Mr. Curzon.”
“Then the day after or the day after! Please, my life ceases to have meaning until you name the day.” He accompanied his words with an extravagantly prayerful gesture and twinkling eyes.
She smiled and cut her eyes up at him. “Well, then, I believe your life must be quite meaningless until Monday.”
“So cruel, and yet so kind.” He raised her hand to his lips and then surrendered her reluctantly to her next partner.
Davida was in such a whirl of partners and dances that she quite forgot Pelham until the strains of a waltz again relegated her to the sidelines. Then she saw him bearing down on her, purpose in his stride.
“This nonsense must stop,” he asserted, taking her hand and placing it on his arm before leading her across the room so quickly she almost had to run to keep up. Their destination was Lady Jersey, who looked at both of them with teasing eyes as she acknowledged Pelham’s bow. “What do you want, Monty, as if I didn’t know?”
“Really!” Princess Esterhazy eyed them with disfavor. “ ’Tis only her first visit to Almack’s. You shouldn’t even ask.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Jersey responded. “She’s a sensible, prettily behaved gel, and Monty is . . .”
“A pet of yours,” the Princess snapped.
“Yes, he is.” Lady Jersey’s eyes were warm as she looked at Lord Pelham in a way that suddenly made Davida uncomfortable. Hadn’t she heard whispers about Lady Jersey’s fondness for younger men?
But in a second the look had changed to one of amused toleration. “Do go on and dance and stop hanging about, children.”
Pelham smiled and bowed slightly before turning and sweeping Davida onto the floor, which was already crowded with swiftly moving couples.
It was Davida’s first waltz with anyone other than her dancing master or her father. It took her several mome
nts to settle into the rhythm of the music, to relax and begin moving as one with Pelham. She found the sensation of being so close to him both unnerving and delicious.
When she finally felt she had herself in hand, she dared to look at him. He was not very much taller than she. It seemed to her as she lifted her face that all he would have to do would be to bend his head slightly and he could kiss her quite easily.
This disquieting thought caused her to gasp and miss her step. Pelham had been gazing into the middle distance, a vague smile on his lips. Now he glanced down. “Did I step on your toes?” he asked, concerned.
“Oh, no, my lord. I just misstepped.” She was painfully aware of his closeness, his hand on her waist. A blush threatened, and she forced herself into conversation to keep from making a cake of herself. It would never do for Pelham to guess how attracted she was to him. Remembering that look he had given her when he kissed her hand in the foyer, she wondered if he already knew.
“It has been a delightful evening for me. How about you, my lord. Has all gone well?”
The cobalt eyes looked affectionately down at her. “Famously. Elspeth practically asked me to escort her to Curzon’s picnic. And we waltzed together. Oh!” Suddenly aware of his failed promise, he apologized.
“Do not think of it. After all, that is what we had hoped for. I’m so pleased. Soon you’ll be engaged again, no doubt.”
“I hope so. And you seem to have attracted a very eligible parti.”
All innocence, she batted her eyelashes at him. “Whom do you mean, my lord? I’ve danced with so many this evening.”
“I think you know, minx! And please stop ‘my lording’ me. My friends call me Monty.”
“If you will call me Davida.”
“I mayn’t call you ‘Davie,’ as Sarah does?” Mischief lit up his face.
“Only in private, my—ah, Monty. It is a family name, and my mother would get into a pucker if everyone began calling me that.”
“Agreed.”
A comfortable silence fell between them for several moments. Then Pelham cleared his throat. “Should warn you, Davie—Curzon does not have a spotless reputation where women are concerned. Mean to say, hear he’s looking for a wife now, but do watch your step there.”
Alarmed, Davida lifted her head. “What . . . what do you mean?”
Monty frowned down at her, wondering suddenly why he had said such a thing. Curzon was no more likely than any other gentleman of the ton to take advantage of a gently raised, marriageable miss. But now he’d put his foot in it! He’d have to explain.
“Don’t fly up into the boughs. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just that young women sometimes become quite hen-witted around him. He has been known to take advantage occasionally of the female’s susceptibility to rich and handsome young men.”
Davida shook her head. “A young woman’s reputation is all to her, Monty. Perhaps I shouldn’t go driving with him on Monday as I said I would.”
“Don’t cry off. I didn’t mean to alarm you so. If you behave as you ought, I’m sure he’ll do the same.”
Davida, somewhat piqued, snapped, “I thank you for the warning. I am accustomed to behaving as I ought, but I will be most circumspect in my dealings with him.”
“Yes, I believe you will. You are awake on all suits, Davie.” He studied her profile as she turned her head, a slight frown creasing her forehead. A sudden, unexpected feeling of tenderness surged through him. She was really a lovely girl, vivacious and good-natured. He felt compelled to add, “The man who wins you will be fortunate indeed, my girl.”
Somewhat mollified, Davida thanked him, firmly suppressing a wish that he would not be quite so complacent about the thought of another man winning her.
Lady Howard’s party left early, her daughter Elspeth once more on the arm of Lord Whitham. It was clear that the pleasure had gone out of the evening for Pelham when they left, yet he continued to dance and laugh and do the pretty for Davida. When the ball began to break up, she was exhausted and more than ready to leave.
They emerged into a thick mist and Pelham moaned, “Hope it doesn’t continue to rain like this.”
As she followed her mother into the carriage, Davida quizzed him. “Surely you don’t doubt your beloved’s ability to conjure up a sunny sky for the picnic next week?”
“If she enlists the bishop’s assistance, I doubt it very much. Her father’s prayers are so long-winded the Almighty would do just the opposite of what he asked, out of irritation.”
Davida giggled, but her mother glared at her. “I cannot like this conversation, children. It borders on the sacrilegious.”
“Your pardon, ma’am.” Pelham looked contrite, but when Davida, her mirth suppressed behind her fan, caught his eye, he winked at her.
As she slowly relaxed into sleep in the early hours of the morning, Davida had a wonderful sense of anticipation. Social ruin had been averted. Her debut at Almack’s had been a success; she had met many young men whom her father could only be pleased to have court her. Which of them would call on her tomorrow? Would one of them make her feel as happy inside as that auburn-haired rascal she had helped to win back his true love?
Chapter Six
“So this Curzon, you say, is a baronet’s son?”
“Yes, Papa, though only for life. And so handsome. He is tall and blond. Surely the Vikings must have looked something like that. Or perhaps the Greek gods.”
Davida felt it necessary to build up her father’s interest in Mr. Curzon, because he had been quite disappointed when she told him Lord Pelham and Lady Elspeth seemed to be making it up between them.
“You shall meet him, and no doubt many others. I hardly sat out a dance, and you know most of them will call today.” They were at the breakfast table, though it was nearly noon. It had taken Davida quite a long time to become accustomed to town hours, but she had been so tired that sleeping late had been easy this morning.
“Yes, I saw the drawing room was filling up with flowers already.” Her father smiled, pleased with his daughter’s obvious success.
It was as she predicted. Their drawing room was the scene of constant coming and going well into the afternoon. Invitations piled up on the silver tray in the foyer, and bouquets almost crowded them out of the drawing room.
After the last caller had departed, Davida’s mother exclaimed in pleasure, “Such good fortune that Pelham took you up before your come-out ball, dear. We shall make a much better showing now you are becoming acquainted with the ton.”
Davida held the stack of invitations to her breast, smiling dreamily. “Yes, now it will be a squeeze. I hope the duke doesn’t mind.” It had long been planned that Sarah’s father would come up to London and open his town mansion for the come-out ball which his daughter and Davida were going to share. Neither Lady D’Alatri nor the Greshams had facilities for a large ball.
“I’m sure he’ll be very pleased. He was well aware that Sarah had no intentions of making a push to meet a great many young men. Now she will have to, whether she wants to or not.”
Lady Sarah had come to London for the season very reluctantly, for she had long ago determined to wed a neighbor, Gregory Allensby. He was a serious young man who had inherited his family’s estate early. He bent all his energies on managing it to the benefit of his mother and siblings. The duke had no real objection to Allensby, but wished his daughter to have a wider acquaintance before settling on a husband.
Davida chuckled at her friend’s poorly disguised stratagems to avoid attracting eligible gentlemen. One of them had been to set the ball very late in the season, supposedly to give them time to widen their acquaintance. In truth she was, as Pelham had suggested, reluctant to be noticed, but now she would possibly find their ball one of the events of the season!
“But whatever shall we do? We can’t possibly attend all of these.” Davida made a helpless gesture with the pile of invitations.
“Of course not. Now we can be very selective.
But we must try to attend as many as possible. Not much time is left, if you are to choose a husband this year. Oh, my dear, Mr. Curzon was very warm in his attentions to you this afternoon, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, he was,” Davida replied. She was not truly a shy person, but with her high coloring she blushed easily, and Harrison Curzon had put her to the blush more than once this afternoon with his fulsome compliments and admiring looks. She guessed he took a mischievous pleasure in her embarrassment.
“A handsome young man, as you said,” her father drawled.
“Yes, but I cannot like him.”
“Mama!” Davida turned, astonished, to see her mother looking unusually stern.
“I can’t help it. I don’t know why, but I cannot. There is something so bold about his manner. Almost insolent. I do not think he would make a comfortable husband.”
“Codswallop!” Her father was aghast. “An eligible parti, and clearly interested. Woman, what kind of a start is this?”
Her mother rose and walked agitatedly around the room. “He is not at all as kind as Lord Pelham, I am sure.”
“Your daughter has seen fit to throw Pelham away, so . . .”
“Papa! He was never mine to . . .”
“Let us not quarrel.” Her mother turned to face them. “Davida is right. Pelham was in alt when Lady Elspeth took him up again. However we might prefer him as a son-in-law, he is out of reach. All I am asking is that we keep our wits about us. You wouldn’t want Davida to choose unwisely and be unhappy.”
Her father went to his wife and pulled her into his arms. “Of course not, my dear. Be assured I will look over any potential husbands very carefully.”
Davida felt a little teary, watching them. In spite of her father’s ambitions, they really did have her best interests at heart. She joined them, hugging them both. “You are surely the best parents a girl could have.”
But as she mounted the stairs to change into a carriage dress for the ride in the park she had promised Sir Ralph Moreston, Davida felt weighed down with the pressure of the necessity to make such a lifelong commitment in a few short weeks. Her own inclination was to relax and let matters turn out as they might. Surely eighteen was too young to worry about being on the shelf? But she must please not only herself but her dear parents as well, so she firmly took herself in hand and prepared to continue her search.
June Calvin Page 5