Page 51 of One Perfect Dance
“I’m glad we came out,” Arial said. “Although Lady Kingsley and Miss Turner seemed to have everything well in hand.”
Regina’s smile broadened. “And Pansy’s trusty hair pin. Mr. Deffew found it most discouraging.”
Peter gave a bark of laughter. “Well done, Pansy!”
Miss Turner’s smile at Regina was shy. “I am pleased I could help. Keep the shawl, Mrs. Paddimore. Arial, darling, are you ready to go home?”
“More than ready,” Arial said fervently.
The Stancrofts and Miss Turner took their leave. Her mother put a hand out to touch Regina’s arm. “May we talk, Regina?”
Regina nodded. It was time and past time that she and her mother bridged the gap between them. “I do not wish to go back into that crowd, Mother. Would you consider coming home with me? We could have tea and a chat.”
Her mother looked relieved. “I would love that.”
*
Ash had ratherhoped that Geoffrey Paddimore would not be at home for dinner. At the very least, he could count on the boy going out as soon as he had eaten, leaving Ash alone with Regina. The smile he had been wearing unbidden every time he thought about their kisses spread across his face as Wilson opened the door to let him in.
“Good evening, Wilson. Would you hold these for a moment?” Ash handed the first footman the large bunch of roses he carried, fresh from the hot houses of the Duke of Dellborough. Red for love and romance, pink for grace and admiration, yellow for friendship.
He put the box he was carrying onto a large cabinet and shrugged out of his coat. “Would you put this somewhere safe and bring it in when I ask for it? It is for Mrs. Paddimore.” It was her birthday present, all ready for their actual birthday the following morning.
He hoped she would be delighted with it. If Paddimore was not at home, or went out after dinner, her gratitude might take a tangible and delightful form.
“Of course, sir.” Charles handed over the flowers and took Ash’s outdoor wear. “Sir? We have unexpected guests for dinner. Mrs. Paddimore’s brother and her mother.”
There went Ash’stête-à-tête. He nodded, hoping that his disappointment did not show on his face. “And Mr. Paddimore?”
“Sent a message saying he would not be home, sir,” Charles disclosed. “Go right on up, Mr. Ashby. Mrs. Paddimore said to tell you not to stand on ceremony.”
Another hopeful sign. A departure from social custom afforded only the closest of friends.Or lovers.Ash bounded up the stairs to the drawing room. The door was open, and when he looked inside, Regina rose to greet him. “Elijah! Come in. Mother, I have someone I would like you to meet.”
He had last seen Lady Kingsley at Regina’s ball, the day Regina turned seventeen and Ash twenty-one. In his memory, she was a mirror image of her daughter. He supposed most people would say Regina was the reflection of her mother, but to him, Regina would always be the first, the original, the only.
The resemblance had been muted by time. The black hair was now iron grey, and the fair skin had crêped and wrinkled with lines of grief and discontent, though this evening she wore the same glow of happiness as her daughter.
“Mother, allow me to present Mr. Elijah Ashby,” Regina said.
Lady Kingsley held out her hand. “Mr. Ashby and I have met,” she said, dryly, “though he has matured somewhat since then.”
Elijah bent over her hand. “Lady Kingsley.”
“Well? Go on, Mr. Ashby,” she told him. “Give my girl her roses.”
It was not the evening he had imagined, but he enjoyed himself. Lady Kingsley proved to have a caustic wit and a keen eye for the idiocies of fashionable life. William was clearly delighted to have his mother and sister together at the same table and let down some of his reserve to share stories of their childhood. And Regina was transcendent with joy to be reunited with her mother.
Even if Ash hadn’t found the company pleasant, he would have been pleased because Regina was happy, and her happiness was essential to his.
The evening passed all too quickly, and it wasn’t until he and the Kingsleys were leaving that Ash noticed the box, still on the cabinet where he had left it.
“Your birthday present!” he said to Regina. “I almost forgot.” He picked it up and brought it to her.
“Come along, William,” Lady Kingsley commanded. “Give Regina a few minutes with her swain. She is perfectly capable of opening a birthday present without our assistance.”
Wilson’s lips twitched as he opened the front door for the lady. “Something amusing, young man?” she demanded. But her eyes twinkled, and the glance she cast her daughter could only be described as doting. “Happy birthday for tomorrow, Regina. I will see you at your ball.”
Then they were gone, and Regina drew him back into the drawing room where she opened her present, and his daydreams about kissing her again came true in his arms.
