Page 2 of Rescued from Betrayal
She smiled demurely. “You did.”
“I must congratulate you then on a successful hunt.”
“Oh really, Eddie. Do you have to be so gauche? It is not as if the man is a pheasant. I did nothing more than attend the ball where he happened to notice me.”
“Yes, nothing more. It is not as if you have fussed over which style of dress to order for weeks. Then there were all those hours spent at the modistes. And let's not forget the inordinate amount of time it took you to prepare yourself this evening.”
If she’d been any less dignified she would have stuck her tongue out at him, but Melior never allowed any expression that made her face appear less than glorious.
A tall man with a head full of tight dark curls stepped up beside her. “And what a marvelous result for your efforts, Miss Kendall.”
“Thank you, Mr. Roberts. At least you appreciate a woman’s efforts to be presentable.”
“I do indeed, but you must excuse Eddie. Not everyone has as keen an eye for fashion as I do.”
Melior smiled. Mr. Roberts would have been considered quite the dandy if he chose to dress in extravagant colors, but he kept his well fitted attire to the darker colors expected of a gentleman. He did, however, adorn every bit of him with a plentiful amount of gold and silver. His gold cufflinks matched the ring on his right pinky as well as the stick pin in his perfectly tied cravat.
Now here was a man to be admired. Nicely defined cheekbones offset with symmetrically placed ears on a face that nearly always smiled. And she did not miss the way both her friends appraised his tall athletic frame which she knew was kept fit by hours of fencing—the sport of choice for all of her brother's friends. Which was probably why Sir Nathaniel also kept a nice frame, albeit shorter than Mr. Roberts with a little more width through his shoulders. His coat and britches fit nicely too.
Her eyes shot upward when she realized she’d been inadvertently taking stock of Sir Nathaniel’s many assets.
Sir Nathaniel smirked at her.
How could she have been so thoughtless as to give him any indication that she found him attractive?
“Mr. Roberts, how are you enjoying your evening?” she asked.
“Quite well, but there is one thing lacking. I have yet to dance with you. Do say you will take up this next set with me.”
Melior’s eyes darted about the room. While Mr. Roberts was in line for a barony he was not her best prospect, but with no other titled gentlemen about, she supposed it was better to be on the dance floor than off.
“I would be honored, Mr. Roberts.”
As he led her onto the floor, Melior noticed her brother offering his arm to Agatha. She smiled. He always had been thoughtful of her friends. Perhaps that was why she liked him best. Their older brother Osborne would have turned up his nose at dancing and found the card rooms.
Melior’s gaze flicked to Edith. She eyed the dance floor, beating her fan rhythmically for several minutes, but Sir Nathaniel said nothing. Melior frowned. It was not like him to slight her friends so openly.
Eventually another gentleman came along and asked Edith to dance, making it easier for Melior to lose herself in the enjoyment of her conversation with Mr. Roberts and the movements of the dance.
When the dance finished, Mr. Roberts led her over to her mother who gossiped with friends near the edge of the floor.
The supper set was next. Melior glanced around anxiously as she awaited Lord Caraway. Her mother leaned close and touched her back. She immediately corrected her posture. Anyone watching would have thought her mother had simply been whispering something into her daughter's ear, but she knew better. Her mother had certain quiet signals to let her know when she appeared less than perfect.
A caress of the cheek meant she should go have her maid fix her hair. A tap on her arm meant she smiled too much. But the hand on the back was the one Melior hated the most.
Mother had always insisted she stand, bend, or sit in such a way that her figure was always at its best advantage. While sheunderstood her mother’s desire to help her, it was exhausting to always stand at attention.
Thankfully Lord Caraway collected her soon after, but her time with him went far too quickly.
He was such an amiable gentleman, if a bit young—barely beyond his days at university. She would guess him to be near her own age of twenty-two, but that did not dissuade her. He need not have much knowledge of the world.
In fact, she liked it that way. Her five seasons had taught her that too many men lived less than savory lives outside the ballrooms and drawing rooms of London. She would much rather catch a young one who would be dedicated to her than an older one who had already created attachments elsewhere.
After supper, Lord Caraway returned her to the ballroom and she was disappointed to find herself alone and without a partner. That rarely happened.
Her two friends were already dancing, and her mother was deep in conversation with several matrons near the far wall. If only her father had remained in the ballroom, he could have rescued her, but he had escaped to the cardroom as had her oldest brother, Osborne.
There was nothing to do but wait.
