Page 68 of A Rake's Revenge
Stephan turned his attention back to the girl who had followed Lady Lockwood and her husband into the gallery. Save for the fact that she was not wearing a full head cap, she was dressed as simply as a Puritan. The plain brown dress of soft wool had a high collar, full-length sleeves, and hung straight and loose from her shoulders, giving no indication as to what sort of curves, if any, she might possess. Her brown hair was pulled severely back into a knot at the nape of her neck, accentuating large brown eyes round as an owl’s in a pale face. Surrounded by women with elaborate, sausage-curled tresses dressed in colorful silks that clung to figures, she looked like a little brown wren. A scared little brown wren.
“Miss Vincent must be the American orphan.” Brice kept his voice low. “You would think the countess would have seen to it that she had a proper gown.”
“I heard the girl was raised in a convent.” Stephan allowed himself a small smile. “I suspect the dress she is wearing is what would be consideredproperthere.”
“There. Not here.” Brice frowned. “I know the Lockwoods weren’t overly eager to take in a poor relation, especially from America. Do you suppose the countess is trying to make her into a laughingstock?”
Stephan’s gaze flickered to Vanessa. She was wearing a royal blue silk that displayed bare shoulders and a good amount of cleavage. A sapphire and diamond necklace enhanced her throat, and matching bobs dangled from her ears. More sapphires and diamonds encircled a gloved wrist. The woman was vain and quite proud of her petite, curvy stature and blond, blue-eyed looks. He remembered Alex telling him on more than one occasion, the countess had tried to lure him into her bed. Stephan looked back at the American. She was young, perhaps no more than twenty, and even from where he stood, he could see her face possessed good bone structure. The countess was a good ten years older. Stephan shook his head.
“Perhaps Lady Lockwood fears competition.”
Brice rolled his eyes. “I know thetoncan be vicious as cats in heat, but Miss Vincent hardly looks like she’d act the flirt. She looks more like a skittish foal that would like to break and run.”
“I can understand that,” Stephan replied wryly. “I feel the same way most of the time.”
The trio started to move toward the punch bowl near the entrance to the saloon. As Stephan watched, the girl tripped over the hem of her misshapen garment. Titters of laughter washed over the crowd. A pinkish blush spread over Miss Vincent’s face as she hastily opened the small reticule she carried and rummaged through it. A linen handkerchief fell out, but with a surprisingly fast reflex, she raised a knee and managed to catch it before it fluttered to the floor. The movement displayed a well-worn half boot and a flash of stocking, which brought gasps from the women and several derisive-sounding hoots from men who openly gaped.
Miss Vincent appeared not to notice as she pulled a pair of spectacles out and put them on. Stephan frowned slightly. Perhaps her wide-eyed look had not been fear, but simply that she could not see well. She lifted her chin and walked toward the punch bowl in long, unladylike strides which started a distinct buzz of conversation as though bees had just burst from hives. He glanced over at Caroline to find her scowling.
Stephan grimaced, too. Miss Vincent had not had a particularly good introduction to high Society. He looked at Brice. “I think we should walk over and ask to be introduced, before the lady thinks we are all boorish snobs.”
“I think we will have to wait in line,” Brice replied and gestured with his chin in the other direction.
Stephan turned and then smiled. Caroline was marching with definitely unladylike steps toward Sarah Vincent, a determined look on her face.
…
With each step she took toward the American, Caroline could feel her temper rising. The subtle laughter at the girl’s appearance and now the whispers circulating like so much hot air because of her stumble were bad enough, but typical of the snobby attitude of much of the aristocracy. But the lewd hoots from the men were uncalled for and made Caroline want to pick up the nearest heavy object and hurl it in their general direction.
And where in blazes was the prince? He had decided to host a reception for Miss Vincent. Caroline seriously doubted that anyone would have made a comment—at least not in his presence and therefore within the American girl’s hearing—if he had accompanied the Lockwoods down the stairs. He was probably trysting in his chambers with his mistress, since she had not put in an appearance, either.
Caroline was in fine mettle by the time she reached the trio. Lady Lockwood was one of her least favorite people, second only to Amelia the past year, but considering the past few days, Vanessa could now claim the number one spot. Not that the Countess of Lockwood would care one way or the other. Nevertheless, Caroline decided to follow proper protocol to save the American girl from further embarrassment.
“Lord and Lady Lockwood, may I be introduced to your guest?”
Vanessa gave her a long look, no doubt mentally taking note of Caroline’s lack of jewelry and the fact that her gown was modestly cut. The earl gave her a long look, too, only his gaze rested rather obviously on her bosom before he knit his brows and turned away. Caroline stifled a smile. She’d chosen this gown with its very moderate neckline because she knew she’d have to be pleasant to Earl Tisdale tonight. But she didn’t much like Earl Lockwood, either. Although he’d never taken liberties with her—not that she’d given him an opportunity—she’d always felt he was somewhat devious.
“I am Sarah,” the American said and held out her hand.
Lady Lockwood gave it a sharp tap with her fan. “Miss Vincent. One never introduces oneself. And one certainly doesnotextend one’s hand to be shaken.”
Sarah looked slightly perplexed. “Why not?”
Vanessa shuddered delicately and managed to stop an upward look to the ceiling. Caroline barely managed to keep from rolling her own eyes, not because of the supposedfaux pas, but because of Vanessa’s overly melodramatic reaction to it. If there had been any more people nearby, it wouldn’t have surprised Caroline if the countess had tried swooning, especially if eligible young bachelors had been around to catch her.
“Because it is simply not done,” Vanessa said. “I do hope you will be able to adjust to our customs.”
The devil seemed to have taken over Caroline’s tongue. “Is it a new custom to keep one standing without an introduction? I seem to have misplaced my etiquette book.”
One of Vanessa’s well-shaped brows rose in an arch. For a moment, Caroline thought she might actually be given the cut direct, but the earl interrupted.
“For God’s sake, my lady. Let us get this over with.” He looked at Sarah. “Miss Vincent, may I introduce Miss Caroline Nash, daughter of Sir Reginald Nash.” He turned his attention to Caroline. “My niece, Miss Sarah Vincent.” Lockwood looked around. “Perhaps you could introduce her to your friends over there?”
Caroline followed the direction of his gaze to where Brice and Stephan stood engaged in conversation. She wasn’t sure why the earl had singled them out, but they were probably the best option. They might be rakes, but they’d know tobehave. She certainly didn’t want to throw Sarah to the wolves, not that any of the bachelors were paying particular attention. “I would be happy to. Would you excuse us?”
“Of course we will,” Vanessa said in a tone that could have turned fire to ash. “Please do circulate.”
Sarah smiled at Caroline and followed her. They’d only gone a few paces when she stopped. “Perhaps we could postpone the introduction?”
