Page 46 of One Perfect Dance
He stopped in his tracks when he saw Regina descending the stairs.Calm and welcoming, she reminded herself. “Good morning, Geoffrey.”
“William says I owe you an apology for deceiving you,” he grumbled.
“Yes,” she agreed. “And I owe you one for being so protective that you thought you needed to sneak behind my back instead of coming out like a man and telling me your true plans.”
Geoffrey blinked, and then his face cleared. “Ouch,” he said, with the rueful grin she loved. “That apology had a sting in it.”
“That wasn’t the apology, clod pate.” She composed herself, her hands folded at her waist, her head meekly bowed. “Dear Geoffrey, I’m sorry that I acted in a way that made you believe I would not support your going out with your friends.”
Geoffrey took her cue, thank goodness, bowing from the waist while sweeping his arm back as if it held a plumed hat. “Dear Mother, I am sorry I lied to you about my whereabouts and my activities.” He straightened again and grimaced. “Uncle William said I can hardly expect you to treat me like a man when I sneak off like a boy.”
“We shall both try to do better then,” Regina said. “Have you breakfasted, Geoffrey?” Her boy looked pale and tired, but she would not comment on that. Not now they had established peace between them.
“Nothing for me, Mother. I have a bit of a headache. I might just have a wash and go to bed.”
The after-effects of much drinking, perhaps? She had heard other women complain of such headaches in their husbands, sons, or brothers. “I will send Charles up with some tea, Geoffrey. I understand drinking several cups can help.”
He looked at her suspiciously, and then nodded. “Thank you. I may have dipped a little deep last night. But they are excellent fellows, Mother. Now that I am not keeping them a secret anymore, I shall be able to introduce you, and you shall see for yourself.”
“I shall look forward to it,” Regina told him.
“You are dressed to go out,” he commented, then flushed. “Not thatyouneed to tellmewhere you are going, Mother.”
“To order some items I need for my ball, dear. Mr. Ashby is taking me in his phaeton.”
“Oh yes. The ball. It is in a few days, is it not?” He was making a visible effort to appear interested, while suppressing a yawn that showed his true interest was his pillow.
“On Tuesday night next week. May I hope you will be present? And would you like to invite your friends?”
He blinked a couple of times, surprised. “I can ask them,” he replied, cautiously. “I do not think it is the kind of thing they enjoy. I will be there, Mother, of course.”
At that moment, the knocker sounded, and Wilson appeared from the butler’s little room to answer the door.
*
When Ash enteredthe house, Regina stood at the foot of the stairs, her bonnet dangling by its strings from a hand that also held her gloves. She was dressed in blue again—this time in several shades. Her outer garment was a redingote slightly darker than her eyes; it skimmed lovingly over her delectable curves. Under it, she wore a gown in a light shade trimmed with some sort of braid in a deep blue that matched her gloves and the sensible boots on her tiny feet. Flowers in all three blues festooned one side of the straw bonnet.
“Mrs. Paddimore, what a charming outfit.”
He drank in the sight of her for a moment before taking note of her foster son. Geoffrey Paddimore looked pallid and rumpled, as if he had just arrived home after a night out. At least he was home.
“Good morning, Mr. Paddimore. I hope I find you well?”
The boy had excellent manners in spite of his greenish tinge. “I am, Mr. Ashby. And you, sir?”
“All the better for seeing your lovely mother,” Ash told him, and winked at Regina.
She stretched up and young Paddimore lowered his cheek for her peck of kiss. “Go and get some sleep, my dear,” she advised. “Will I see you for dinner?”
“I would like that, Mother. Could it be an early dinner? I am meant to be meeting some of the fellows this evening at about eight.”
“Wilson,” Regina told the butler, “Would you let Cook know that we will need dinner for six o’clock? Will that be early enough, Geoffrey? Oh, and can you have someone take up a pot of tea to Mr. Paddimore’s room?”
“Thank you, Mother,” the young man said. “That will be excellent.” He finished on a yawn, which he attempted to hide behind his hand.
“It will suit us, will it not, Elijah? Mr. Ashby is escorting me to the theater this evening. To Drury Lane, to seeThe Bride of Abydon.”
Paddimore smiled at Ash over Regina’s head. “We are going to the theater too, but not such a grand one. The East End, for the pantomime and burletta. Have a good shopping trip, Mother.”
