Page 133 of The Viscount's Seduction
“Sirena.” He caught her eye. “Another surprise invitation?”
She straightened, her smile growing wider as Fox appeared in front of them. The drunken lout from the night before was gone. Fox was shaved, groomed, and pressed, the same tall dark-haired fellow with a poet’s demeanor and a blacksmith’s strong build who’d visited Cransdall and painted all of them.
Fox bowed. “Lord Bakeley. Lady Bakeley.”
“’Tis a pleasure to meet you,” Sirena said. “Though I could have wished you’d arrived earlier. “The orchestra is tuning up and this great herd is already mucking up your wonderful design.”
Fox smiled, showing white teeth.
“It is a great success,” Sirena said. “You must dance on it yourself.”
“I am not much of a dancer, madam, though I should be happy to try.”
“Excellent. Though…my husband is expecting me to dance every dance with him, is that not shocking? So I must give my share of dances to Lady Perry.”
Bakeley blinked. Fox and Perry—no. He must nip this matchmaking.
“I believe Perry is engaged to dance the first dance with Charles,” Bakeley said.
“Your brother won’t mind. The artist and his commissioner dancing together. I shall just go and find her—”
Lady Arbrough was announced, and a murmur spread throughout the ballroom.
“My dears.” She curtsied, let Bakeley bow over her hand, and kissed Sirena on both cheeks.
“I’m so happy you’ve come,” Sirena said, making sure the crowd watching would see only a contented bride, as they’d discussed.
“Do not worry. All is in place,” Jocelyn whispered.
“I’m receiving a signal, Sirena,” Bakeley said. They were to lead the first dance.
“The prime minister is not here.”
“He’ll be along in a bit.”
Sirena opened her mouth and closed it. “Very well.”
“Ready?”
She inhaled deeply. “Yes.”
He squeezed her hand. “Be not afraid. I’m sticking to you tonight.”
He led her through the crowd to the center of the dance floor where the chalked coat of arms was already mussed, and took her into his arms for a waltz.
“Wait but a moment, please.” A booming voice drowned the tuning instruments. Sterling Hollister stepped out into the middle of the ballroom.
A bit too close. Bakeley’s pulse raced. He released one of Sirena’s hands and pivoted her away from her cousin.
“Speeches were not part of the program, cousin,” Bakeley said with a show of annoyance.
“What, ho, interrupting a man with his bride in his arms?” That voice was Charley’s.
A muscle ticked at the corner of Hollister’s eye. He bowed. “I beg your indulgence to allow me to offer a few words as the head of Lady Sirena’s family and her only living relative.”
His pulse pounded, and next to him, Sirena bristled.
Father parted the crowd. “Well say it, man.”
