Page 36 of Miss Dashing
He would be.“I like apple tarts,” Portia said. “Or pear tarts, or anything but raspberries. I cannot abide raspberries.” She set her dessert dish aside and wanted to kick his lordship.
Flavia reached around Lord Phillip and appropriated Portia’s untouched sweet. Lord Phillip looked amused, and that was… That exceeded all bounds.
Hecate was not to have him. Hecate was on the shelf, and Portia would soon join her unless Lord Phillip saw the good fortune sitting right beside him, which he was apparently too dull-witted to do.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. Vicar burst out laughing, Mrs. Roberts joined in, and Portia came to the only logical conclusion: She’d have to get herself compromised with Lord Phillip, the sooner the better.
ChapterEight
Supper had passed in a lovely blur for Hecate. The food had been excellent, the conversation entertaining, and the occasional glance shared with Phillip magical.
I feel as giddy as a girl making her come out should feel.The notion pleased her, though she was positively ecstatic when Nunn indicated by a nod at the clock that the time had come for the ladies to withdraw.
Hecate relayed that command to Cousin Edna by virtue of a murmured word—Edna was absorbed with patting Hallowell DeGrange’s sleeve, his wrist, and probably his thigh—and the women rose on the arms of their escorts.
“Miss Brompton.” DeGrange bowed to her and winged his elbow. “Might I say you are in particularly fine looks this evening?”
“You may, though you needn’t. How is your dear mother?”
“Mama despairs of me. Longs to see me settled, but what’s the rush? It’s not as if I have a title, and that affords one a certain freedom to choose, wouldn’t you say?”
He smiled at her, and without his monocle, he was handsome enough in a blond, blue-eyed way. He’d served honorably on the Peninsula and didn’t feel compelled to remind everybody of that twice in every conversation. Hecate had invited DeGrange because he had a good sense of humor, he wasn’t overly prone to gossip, and he’d be a good influence on Charles.
A reliable bachelor, just as Hecate was a reliable spinster, but DeGrange’s smile this evening looked a bit conspiratorial. They waited for the crowd at the dining room door to thin, Cousin Eglantine clinging to Phillip’s arm, while Portia and Flavia had to content themselves with the brothers Corviser.
“Shoes and Boots seem to be getting on well with your lady cousins,” DeGrange observed, referring to the siblings Schumann and Boothby Corviser. As Portia and Flavia trundled down the corridor, they giggled and fawned and comported themselves like young women who’d done too much justice to the dinner wines.
“Did you just give them those nicknames?” If so, DeGrange had hidden depths of cleverness. A corviser in days of old had been a shoemaker.
“Schoolyard wits get the credit, as usual. We arrive too soon to the withdrawing room, and I must bid you a temporary farewell. Say you’ll think of me.”
He bowed over her hand and came up smiling, and Hecate was faced with the extraordinary conclusion that he was flirting with her.
“I will think of retiring early, I’m afraid. I still haven’t made up the teams for tomorrow’s scavenger hunt.” Hecate had devised those teams days ago and, during the journey from London, had made six copies of the list of items to be searched for. She was on no team, being relegated to the role of organizer, of course.
“I’d like to go searching with you on a fine summer day,” DeGrange said. “One has the sense victory would be assured.”
“Of course it would be, because I decided what must be sought, and thus putting myself on a team would be cheating.”
The crush at the parlor door was thinning, and Phillip passed her on his way back to the dining room. Even the meadowy scent of his shaving soap left her wanting to smile, sigh, and make a fatuous study of his retreating form.
“Don’t you ever cheat, Miss Brompton?” DeGrange asked. “Just a little? Risk a discreet compromise with the unrelenting dictates of decorum? Does your soul never long for a little diversion and mischief?”
If he only knew.“The Bromptons indulge in mischief and diversions aplenty, I’m afraid. Somebody must remain firmly in possession of her common sense in this family, and that somebody is me.”
“And for that,”—he tossed off a bow—“you remain in firm possession of my admiration. If you were on a scavenger team, I’d insist on being assigned to it. Perhaps you’ll look with favor on my humble person when it’s time to form squares for tomorrow’s picnic.”
He sauntered off, and Hecate felt as if he’d mistaken her for another woman who’d brought charm, beauty, and some accomplishments among her luggage. Hecate had always been wealthy, but DeGrange had no reputation as a fortune hunter.
His mild flirtation had been enjoyable and harmless, but also… odd.
Very odd.
Hecate made her excuses to Edna, who was perfectly happy for Hecate to spend the rest of her evening on organizational chores while Edna collected gossip over the tea tray.
“DeGrange is very sweet, isn’t he?” Edna said as the ladies arranged themselves on sofas and hassocks. “He comes from a good family too.”
“Are you thinking of remarrying, Edna?”
