Page 17 of A Lady of Means
“Why?Isn’t Drysdale worth considering as a partner?”Noelle asked softly, pushing her spectacles back up on her nose.Moria shrugged evasively and pulled her glove higher up her arm.She couldn’t reveal her cards, the increasingly complex dance between securing the hand of a Duke or giving into her deepening pull to an Army Captain.
“He is quite decent,” Fitz added.
“He isn’t a Duke, though,” Lady Althea said in a stage whisper.
Moria looked toward the dancefloor wistfully.She felt the others' eyes on her, waiting for her to answer.“Margot’s never been anything but loyal to you,” Moria said to Noelle, with a soft smile, remembering Noelle’s previous season when her sister had debuted after nearly eighteen months in mourning and had few prospects, yet Miss Wimbley had remained her steadfast friend.
Moria didn’t usually do nice things for people she wasn’t related to…unless they deserved it.Moria wished that she could be like her mother, like Olivia, and Noelle, who simply saw the right course, who saw people and their needs.Moria felt like she was always judging people against some harsher standard and held grievances long past the date to relinquish them.
“I’ll always like Drysdale but I’ll never love him.”She shrugged, “I thinkshecould.”
The lady in question drifted toward them.
“Enjoy your dance?Or…my dance?”Moria asked, raising her chin.
Margot broke eye contact and looked down at her hands.“Tremendously.How’s your ankle, Lady Moria?”
Moria groaned.“Oh, it’s worse for wear, I’m afraid.I’ll need to prevail on your good nature a little longer.My brother is sending for the carriage to take me home.”
Drysdale appeared, followed quickly by Jasper.“Are you all right, Lady Moria?I’ll be sad to see you go.”So she was back to Lady Moria, no longer justMoria.
Moria turned a bright smile on.“I will be, Cal.But you should stay.”
He shook his head, but she took one of his hands.“I want you to enjoy yourself.”
He squeezed her hand, and she used it to pull herself up.She put an arm at his waist and one at his shoulder as she planted a soft kiss at his cheek.He brought her gloved hand to his lips and left a kiss.It didn’t rattle her soul, but it was genuine.
“Thank you for that.For everything.Goodbye, Lady Moria.”She heard the unspoken meaning in his words.Maybe he was letting her go because he could see her heart had someone else taking up space as well.
Kathleen interrupted her thoughts with a gentle hand at her elbow, proffering a dance card for Moria’s perusal.“What do you make of this?Several of the suitors on Olivia’s dance card…are former and current beaux of yours.”
Lady Althea leaned over Moria’s shoulder and harrumphed.
As if summoned, the Duke of Andover appeared in their line of vision, all six-foot-something looking sinfully elegant.Moria let her eyes linger on long limbs and strapping shoulders in formal wear, complimentary green eyes offset by the deep bronze of his skin and dark hair.He had caught her eye the previous season; so she’d made herself hard enough to look away from that he’d been the one to seek an introduction.
“Ladies, I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Kathleen turned to Moria.“We’ll finish our discussion later, you two go have your dance.”
The Duke stifled a grin.“Actually, Lady Thorne, I’ve already promised Lady Olivia this one.”
Kathleen looked at Moria like a victor.Before Kathleen could start in on her tirade, her husband Henry appeared out of nowhere to take her by the arms and waist.They whirled away on a tide of dancing feet and formal wear and laughter.
The Duke of Andover spoke, “I’m relieved to see Henry so happy.He was a few years ahead of me at Oxford…but then he left before the end of his year.Of course, he wasn’t a Marquess then.It was that wretched cousin of his.”
When he brought up the topic of the previous Marquess, she wanted to tell him about her past.But not here, not with so many watching eyes and listening ears on all sides.Not now.She and the Duke didn’t yet have their own history that gave her the security to share secrets.Was he even the type of man who had space or understanding for a woman’s secrets?
She settled for: “It isn’t fair to speak ill of the dead, Your Grace.”
He looked down at her, a keenness in his eyes like he saw more of her hand than she’d meant to reveal.He softened his features with a small smile.“You are right, my lady.I hope you’ll forgive my error.I only meant?—”
Before he could say what it was that he had meant, it was Olivia who spoke next, materializing on the Duke’s other side as if from thin air.“Are you ready for that dance you promised me?”
When Olivia stepped on to the dancefloor of Lady Gretchen von Mien’s very full ballroom, Moria felt the atmosphere change.For all her beauty and accomplishments, Olivia hadn’t made much of a lingering impression on the ton’s fickle palate; but on the arm of a Duke, they had to take notice of her now.Her work for the evening complete, Moria placed her reticule under her arm to depart.She made sure to limp slightly and wince occasionally in order to further sell her injury.
And then, a swath of night-colored hair and a red coat danced in her periphery.
ChapterSeven
