Page 93 of Lord Ashley's Beautiful Alibi
“Do you know this fellow?” Gus asked Kane as they wove their way through the crowd in the ballroom, renewing old acquaintances and gaining new ones. Gus was impressed how so many British spent so much money to come to Paris and pretend they had always loved those in it. “He’s done well for himself to invite so many.”
Kane grimaced. “I only know of him. He has quite a reputation as a gadabout. And clearly, he loves a party.”
Cecily turned to them. “He even sailed here from Brighton on a schooner with fifty-six of his so-called dearest friends. I’d say he has three hundred more here tonight.”
“It is a crush,” Gus admitted.
Cecily worked her fan furiously. She disliked pretentious men—except the two who had been her lovers. She leaned close to confide, “This one always likes a crowd. He’s got more mistresses and children than God allows.”
“He was a friend of my father’s,” Kane said with a look of tolerance. “‘Never Alone’ is his moniker.”
Gus knew how Kane had rued his father’s coarse behaviors. “Birds of a feather, were they?”
“Indeed. Well, here he comes.”
The earl was a pretentious twit who used a monocle to acknowledge Cecily and turn much too quickly to examine everything about Gus. “I say, lovely woman, young Ashley. Your father would’ve liked her. Indeed. Word has it, Lady Ashley, that you are a favorite of the first consul and his wife.”
Gus nodded. “We are friends, yes.”
“Lord Castleton!” Kane said through gritted teeth. “I hear you sailed the Channel to get here. Rough weather?”
“Course! Course. What can you expect, eh? But we had to come and taste the pleasures. I say, Lady Ashley, will you honor me to dine with me at the midnight buffet?”
“I beg your pardon, sir. My husband and I will leave before the buffet. Another time, perhaps.”
“I do hold you to it, my lady. Going home early is a fine custom, Ashley. Were she mine and new to me, I’d rush her home myself.” He elbowed Kane, who already had his fists curled.
“Sir?” Cecily tapped the odious man on the arm. “Control yourself. This is Paris. Not your home. Civility is required.”
“I will, indeed.” He grinned down at the lady who was not amused. “Ye’re lovely, madam. Understand how Prinny and your old Orleans could give you a good go.”
“Sir! Do shut up,” Cecily reprimanded him.
“I think we must go.” Kane grew near purple with rage.
“Now, now. Don’t be testy,” the blubbering idiot told them. “We’ll open the dancing as soon as Madame de Lucay arrives. She takes names for Josephine to remember us all. She’s like a forgetful schoolgirl, I am told. After that, we can dance. Silly. But this is Paris.”
“It is ritual, sir.” Cecily was not about to let the man criticize the procedure. “Madame Bonaparte will arrive and receive.”
“Good. I will rush to greet her,” Gus put in.
Cecily all but rolled her eyes in Gus’s direction. Then she took the man’s arm and led him aside. “Allow me to educate you, Castleton. If you wish to be accepted by the first consul and his wife, observe the rules. She will greet you, host that you are, only after she has risen for her husband’s family and all ambassadors and their wives. She will only bow her head to you, sir.”
“But I buy the wine tonight.”
“And grateful we all are, sir.” Cecily forced a smile. “Come, Castleton. All of us will now find our friends.”
Kane regarded her departure with aplomb. “She gives us leave to have fun.”
Gus wound her arm through his. “She does. Let’s.” She surveyed the room and found a group of her friends in one corner. “Come with me. I have more pleasant people for you to meet.”
She introduced him to two friends of hers and Amber’s, both of whom stood with their brothers. After Josephine arrived andgreeted all, then took her chair to greet Castleton, the orchestra began the first set.
Castleton took out Madame Tallien, who had arrived with Josephine, and a few took the floor later.
Gus leaned close to Kane. “In Paris, one allows the host and hostess to perform most of the first set alone, with only a few close friends joining in.”
“I’d like to dance with you.”
