Page 6 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
That accounted for the little man’s look of self-importance, but not his revoltingly coloured waistcoat, a rather sickly shade of green which emphasised the red in his nose.
Barbara inclined her head as if to a lesser mortal, and she felt her aunt’s hand quiver then drop away.
‘Your great-niece?’ Elton beamed. ‘Then you mustbe March’s daughter. I heard your arrival was expected imminently.’
Her aunt had been touting her arrival for several months, apparently. Building expectations as it were. Advertising her attributes. The main one being her fortune inherited from her late husband, part of which she was currently wearing around her neck. At least, that was what Father had written in his last letter.
Ugh. She allowed a brilliant smile to cross her lips. ‘Indeed.’
Elton raised his hand to his mouth, leaned in close and lowered his voice. ‘Your gown is magnificent. You carry it off to perfection, but if I may mention the…colour.’
Barbara raised her right eyebrow and looked down her nose at the little fellow. It had taken many months of practice looking in the mirror to achieve a perfect expression of incredulity. As usual, it achieved the desired result.
The gentleman flushed. ‘I am known for my s-sartorial expertise,’ he stuttered.
Barbara did not move a muscle.
‘Red is such a difficult colour,’ he mumbled.
‘It is geranium, not red.’
‘Yes, yes. Geranium.’ He pursed his lips and tilted his head a fraction as if considering her words. A small sly smile curved his lips. ‘Well. I should think geranium will be all the rage within the week.’
Not at all what she intended.
‘How can you say so?’
He waved a deprecating hand. ‘I am told your dowry is vast.’
Dash it all. Surely thetoncould not possibly be shallow enough to ignore her faux pas, simply because they thought she had wealth.
‘W-would you care to dance?’ he asked.
Beside her, Aunt Lenore’s smile brightened. ‘Oh, yes. Do dance with Mr Elton, my dear.’
She did not need her aunt’s permission. But dancing with this little fellow, the top of whose head barely came above her ear, would likely serve as yet another cause for ridicule.
And she would be dancing before she had been introduced to one of the Lady Patronesses.
Hah! Sin upon sin.
‘I should be delighted.’ She gathered her skirts, and he escorted her onto the dance floor. A reel. A shame it wasn’t a waltz.
She would have loved for it to have been a waltz.
The tall glowering gentleman was part of their set. He was taller than any other man in the room. Exceedingly tall, up close.
One of the few men in the room she had to look up at to see his expression, she realised as their hands met in the circle of four.
Her fingers tingled at the brush of his fingertips. Perhaps because he so clearly did not approve of her. Did he feel it too? Not if his distant expression was anything to go by.
The pretty young lady with him, a blonde, wore theuniform of a first Season miss. The modest white muslin gown with little pink flowers in her hair, at her bosom and on her hem, identified her as an inveterate follower of the rules.
Her glowering partner was clearly an ogre who would eat the young thing alive. And still be looking for more.
Barbara could not but feel sorry for the child and flashed a smile at the ogre.
His expression remained…disapproving.
