Page 87 of Marry in Secret
“Delightful,” he said wryly. It was, as predicted, a frightful squeeze, and while he still found the presence of so many people uncomfortable, the thought that there were rooms upstairs to which he could retire if he wanted to helped.
“Have you noticed your friend over there, with Penny Peplowe?” She glanced to where Ollie was dancing with a tall, redheaded girl. “They seem quite taken with each other. Seating them next to each other at dinner has turned out well, don’t you think?”
Thomas nodded. The dinner before the ball had been agrand affair with honored guests and close Rutherford friends and relations. When asked whom he’d like to be invited, Thomas could only think of Ollie, his sole friend in London. An ally at the table.
“Penny knows everyone and is such a good-hearted soul, and your friend Mr. Yelland not being acquainted with many people, I thought it might be a good match, but now I’m wondering whether it might not become another sort of match entirely.”
Thomas looked across at Ollie dancing with Miss Peplowe. They did seem to be enjoying the dance. But his wife was a romantic. It was just a dance.
The first dance came to an end, and now Thomas’s duty was to dance with ladies he didn’t know. Lady Ashendon, bless her, took him in hand, leading up to his next partner, murmuring her name so he didn’t make a fool of himself and generally making it easy for him.
From time to time Burton boomed out the names of the late arrivals. “Lord and Lady Carradice! Lord and Lady Davenham!”
Thomas danced on. He was on his fifth partner, a Roman-nosed matron who reeked of patchouli—Thomas loathed the scent of patchouli—and was wondering how long to supper, when Burton announced, “The Duke of Everingham! The Honorable Mr. Sinclair.”
The Duke of Everingham?There was a sudden hush as everyone turned to where the displaced Duke of Everingham, dressed almost entirely in black, stood with another gentleman on the threshold of the ballroom. The duke surveyed the room in an unhurried manner, looking elegant, saturnine and bored.
The Countess of Ashendon rose and glided across the floor to greet him, releasing a buzz of conversation. Rose joined her, and everyone at the ball watched as she engaged the duke in what looked like a brief, but unexceptional and apparently pleasant conversation. A few moments later, he bowed to the ladies and he and his friend drifted off in the direction of the card room.
“Well, that was unexpected.” Thomas’s partner, Lady Roman-Nose, regarded him with an avid expression. “Embarrassing, isn’t it?” Her eyes gleamed with malice.
“Not at all,” Thomas said. “My wife invited him.” And had no expectation of him coming. What was the fellow up to, he wondered. But he wasn’t going to speculate for this lady’s entertainment. “Do you hunt, Lady, er, um?”
“No,” she responded in a snippy tone. Thomas wasn’t sure whether it was because she was balked of any juicy gossip or because he’d forgotten her name, but he didn’t much care which. “And my name isn’t Lady Er-Um,” she added acidly. “It’s Lady Toffington.”
“Of course it is,” Thomas said, embarrassed. “My sincere apologies, my lady. It’s just that I’ve met so many new people this evening, your name temporarily slipped my mind.”
“Yes, it must be difficult, being a nobody in such distinguished company.”
Oh, she was a charmer, this Lady Er-Um. Thomas danced grimly on, waiting for the wretched dance to finish.
Burton continued to boom out late arrivals. “The Earl and Countess of Wainfleet! The Earl of Brierdon! The Honorable Gilbert Radcliffe!”
The Earl of Brierdon?Thomas stumbled.Uncle Walter?He whirled around to face the door but couldn’t see his uncle.
“Still learning to dance, Mr. Braithwaite?”
“Sorry, Lady er—” His mind was blank. He scanned the room.Uncle Walter was here?
“Yes? You’re sorry, Ladywho?” She regarded him beadily and waited.
“I’m sorry, lady, I have to go.” Thomas left her standing in the middle of the dance floor and hurried across to where Burton, the butler, stood.
“Burton, the Earl of Brierdon, where did he go?”
“I’m not sure, sir.” Burton scanned the room. “Perhaps one of the card rooms?”
Thomas looked into the first card room. No Uncle Walter.He checked the second. Not there either. He turned to continue his search when Lady Ashendon touched his arm. “Are you looking for your next partner, Thomas?” He blinked. When had she started calling him Thomas?
“No, it’s—I’m sorry, I don’t have time to dance. Do you know the Earl of Brierdon?”
“Yes, of course. He was invited, naturally.” She looked at him, puzzled. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes, no—I just need to speak to him.”
Ashendon appeared at his wife’s elbow. “Something the matter?”
“Thomas is looking for Lord Brierdon.”
