Page 14 of One Perfect Dance
“Please get out of my way,” Regina demanded. “I am looking for my friend.”
“I would like to be your friend,” Mr. Deffew crooned. “But if you mean Miss Milton, she has, or so I understand, left Town.”
“It was a trick,” Regina realized.
Mr. Deffew’s smirk confirmed her suspicion.
“Get out of my way, Mr. Deffew. Whatever you think you are up to, I am not interested.”
“Such fire,” Mr. Deffew crooned.
At that moment, someone spoke on the other side of the door. Suddenly, Mr. Deffew leapt on Regina, crushed her in his arms, tore at her dress, and pressed sloppy kisses to whatever part of her face he could reach as she struggled.
The door burst open, and people crowded into the room. Miss Wharton, exchanging triumphant glances with Mr. Deffew. Regina’s mother, looking outraged. Lady Beddlesnirt, one of the most notable gossips of the ton. Others, too, all expressing gleeful horror.
Regina broke free of Mr. Deffew and ran to her mother. “It is not what it looks, Mama. Mr. Deffew tricked me. I got this note!” She held it up and Miss Wharton snatched it out of her hand and threw it in the fire.
Mama turned to Mr. Deffew. “Shame on you, sir.”
Mr. Deffew bowed. “I was overcome by love, Lady Kingsley. I will make it right, of course.”
“A betrothal,” Mama announced to the room.
“No!” Regina exclaimed. “Mama, he tricked me. I don’t want to marry him.”
“Nonsense, Regina,” Mama insisted. “You have no choice. You must marry. Everyone has seen…” She indicated Regina’s bodice, torn right down the front so that her corset cover showed.
Before Regina could respond, the crowd stirred and then parted as Mr. Paddimore excused his way to the front. He took in Regina’s tattered state, Mama’s expression, Mr. Deffew’s triumphant mien.
Regina saw the moment when he decided to set it all aside. He addressed Mama. “Lady Kingsley, Lord Kingsley is very ill. The doctor says you must come at once.”
“My poor darling!” Mr. Deffew pronounced, loudly. “I will, of course, come with you. As your betrothed, my place is by your side.”
The softening of the censorious faces around her loosened Regina’s tongue. “I am not betrothed to you, Mr. Deffew. I did not come here to meet you. I did not ask to be assaulted by you. I will not marry you. I do not want you in my house.”
“Lady Kingsley,” Mr. Paddimore said, his voice harsher and more commanding than Regina had ever heard it. “Your shawl, if you please.”
Mama looked as if she would argue but thought better of it in the face of Mr. Paddimore’s expression. He took the shawl from her and tucked it around Regina, covering her torn gown. “We have no time to discuss this,” he said. “Deffew, call on me at my club tomorrow. Lord Kingsley will not be able to receive you.”
“You go too far, Mr. Paddimore,” Lady Kingsley said. “It is not for you to make decisions for Lord Kingsley.”
Mr. Paddimore still had a comforting hand on Regina’s shoulder. He gave it a brief squeeze. “Miss Kingsley, we must hurry. I can take you in my coach if your mother is not prepared to leave yet.”
“If the gel doesn’t marry the Deffew boy, she is ruined,” Lady Beddlesnirt announced.
Mr. Paddimore turned his glare on her. “As we speak, her father is struggling for his life, madam, and you are in my way.”
He conducted Regina through the gap that opened under the influence of his commanding presence, and Mama scurried behind.
He came with them in Mama’s carriage, and for the first time, Mama asked what was wrong with Papa. “The doctor says it is his heart,” Mr. Paddimore explained, his voice strained, as if he had to force the words. “He had a bad attack perhaps an hour ago. I didn’t realize how bad—he kept saying it was something he had eaten. And then he clutched his arm and fell unconscious.”
He blinked a couple of times, as if to clear his eyes. “He is still unconscious, Elizabeth. He might not wake again.”
Regina must have made a sound, for Mr. Paddimore put his hand over hers and pressed, gently. “I am sorry, Miss Kingsley. I know this is hard.”
Mama’s snort was her only comment, and nothing further was said until they were in the Kingsley front hall.
“How is he?” Mr. Paddimore asked the butler.
