Page 77 of Too Scot to Handle
His nose twitched, as if he might have caught the scent of something overripe. “There’s your kind heart in evidence again. Might I convince you to take pity on me, and join me for a stroll about the terrace?”
He gave her the portentous look again, and it occurred to Anwen that Winthrop Montague was attempting to flirt with her.
Oh, dear. Oh, gracious, oh, ye gods and little fishes. What on earth could he be thinking?
The quartet launched into a lively gigue, and the chatter in the ballroom swelled accordingly, as Mr. Montague escorted Anwen toward the doors to the back garden. Perhaps he sought to curry favor with Aunt Esther or Uncle Percy by paying attention to the most retiring Windham sister.
He’d do that. Think himself clever for flirting with a wallflower—the toad.
“I can’t tarry outside too long,” Anwen said. “I’d like to be on hand if Her Grace needs me for anything.”
Aunt Esther could organize a function twice this size in half the time with half the help, and the evening would still be splendid.
“I am honored with whatever time you will spare me.” Mr. Montague patted the hand Anwen had laced about his arm, and looked her squarely in the eye.
If this was what Mrs. Bellingham had to endure three nights a week, no wonder the woman had declined Mr. Montague’s overtures.
Just before they left the ballroom, Colin shot Anwen a puzzled look across the buffet table. She winked and got a smile in return.
“You must know how much I respect your entire family,” Mr. Montague said once they were on the terrace. “That they’d rally around an institution facing dire financial straits is indicative of the values I admire most. Sometimes, our pragmatism must be informed by a generosity of spirit and nobleness of gesture that defies the understanding of the less loftily situated.”
Even young Tom would have difficulty translating that sermon. “Are you saying the orphanage is a lost cause, but a noble lost cause?”
He tilted head his up when they reached the terrace balustrade, as if striking a pose, “Handsome Swain Admiring Invisible Stars.”
“More or less. This evening looks to be quite a success, though these funds will soon run out. The fate of the orphanage is sad but predictable, and we must comfort ourselves with the knowledge that our feeble efforts, temporary though they might be, have made a difference in the lives of a few unfortunate boys.”
Some efforts had been notably more feeble than others. Mr. Montague was working very hard on his smile of manly regret, for example, far harder than he’d worked on behalf of the orphanage.
“I am pleased to inform you, sir, that this card party will likely become an annual event. Her Grace hosts many affairs at which four dukes are present. She mentioned she’d like to try for six next year.”
A dozen dukes would not be beyond Her Grace’s abilities, though she might have to summon a few from the Continent.
“That is…well.” Mr. Montague rocked up on his toes, then settled back, like a nervous scholar who’d failed to memorize the day’s recitation. “That is most kind of her, most charitable. Exactly the sort of dedication to worthy causes I’ve noticed in you, Miss Anwen.”
He was working up the nerve to kiss her. This realization presented itself in Anwen’s awareness as if her bodice ribbon had come loose in the middle of a reel. Discreet escape was both imperative and impossible.
“It’s a shame your own inclinations are taking you away from the charity dearest to my heart,” Anwen said. “We’ll feel the lack of your wisdom and perspective once you leave the board, Mr. Montague. You have my thanks for all you have done.”
She gave him her brightest, most brisk smile.
“I will eventually and reluctantly step aside from the House of Urchins solely so that Lord Colin can continue to associate with the place in my stead. He has much to learn about comporting himself as a member of polite society, but I’m doing what I can for him.”
Mr. Montague’s tone combined long-suffering and resignation.
“That’s very humble of you,” Anwen said. “Stepping back so those with greater native talent for administration have a chance to shine. Humility is one of the greatest virtues, don’t you agree?”
His nose did that wrinkling thing again. “Moderation in all things, my dear, including moderation, right?”
Such brilliant wit. “If you say so, Mr. Montague. Perhaps you’d be good enough to escort me back to Lord Colin’s side?”
“You’re trying to keep an eye on him as well? I wish he’d have done with that Scottish nonsense when an occasion calls for formal attire.”
So Colin would stop outshining all the dandies dressed exactly as Mr. Montague was?
“I very much enjoy keeping an eye on Lord Colin regardless of whether he’s wearing his national dress or less imaginative attire. He’s asked to pay me his addresses.”
Mr. Montague came to a halt just outside the French doors. “I beg your pardon?”
