Arcana (13 page)

As Robert helps me out of the carriage, my eyes are immediately drawn to a dark figure leaning casually beside the door, his face a bored mask.

Even with such an unwelcoming expression, my heart races at the sight of him. “This cannot end well,” I mutter, irritated once again by my traitorous body.

When Lord Thornewood notices us approach, he pushes himself away from the wall and walks toward us. “My dear Miss Sinclair, I am delighted to see you again so soon.”

Robert raises his eyebrows slightly in question, but I ignore it.

Carefully I say, “Indeed, it was so lovely to see you at Court.”

“You made it much more interesting, without a doubt.”

Now Rob’s interest is piqued as he glances between the two of us like a spectator at a tennis match. “You will be escorting my sister to this ball tonight, I understand?” he says, leveling his gaze at Lord Thornewood.

“I do have that honor, yes, though I am sorry to say I typically spend most of my time playing cards rather than dancing. She may have preferred a more attentive gentleman had she the choice.”

Robert grins. “My sister has shown no preference for any type of gentleman as of yet.”

“Robert,” I hiss in warning.

The earl lifts his eyebrows. “I’m astonished. No country gentleman to pique your interest?”

My blush deepens, and I falter for words. I’ve never been so happy to see my grandmother approach.

“Lord Thornewood,” she says with a gracious smile, “how kind it is for you to meet us here.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he says, his eyes shifting to mine. “The conversation so far has been fascinating, I assure you.”

Grandmama’s lips tighten slightly, but she maintains her smile. “I hope the rest of the evening will be just as entertaining.”

“I intend to make it so, believe me,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Shall we go in?” I interrupt before he manages to truly make my grandmother angry—an amusing pastime, no doubt, but one that will only make my life more difficult.

“Yes, I fear the rain will begin again soon,” Grandmama says.

The earl offers me his arm. I hesitate only a moment before looping my hand through his crooked elbow. His arm is firm and unyielding, and I can feel the thick bands of muscle even with my light touch. I take a deep breath and will myself not to blush again. I refuse to be reduced to a simpering fool around him.

His face is in profile to me as I risk a glance. His sooty eyelashes frame even darker eyes, and I follow the straight line of his nose to his mouth, the edges of which are tipped up slightly in his characteristic aloof smile. I drop my gaze before he can catch me staring and focus instead on each step that brings me closer to the moment when I will have the attention of all in attendance.

In some ways, my debut in court before the king and queen was easier. There, I was one of many. I was expected to perform my perfectly choreographed series of curtsies and be on my way. Once I entered on the arm of the earl, my every word and action would be subject to censure.

“Are you always so tense?” he asks, his voice a quiet rumble above my ear.

I try without success to at least relax my shoulders. “No, my lord. Only when I’m forced to do something I very much do not want to do.”

He glances down at me quickly, as if surprised. “You are not one of the hundreds of ladies in this assembly dying for the moment she will be welcomed into society?”

“Perhaps if it didn’t involve standing in front of everyone like horseflesh at an auction.”

His body shakes with quiet laughter. “What an interesting comparison. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it put in such a way.”

I try to smile, but it comes out more as a grimace. Only a few debutantes separate us from the entrance to the ballroom where they will announce my name, followed immediately by the earl who escorts me. I picture the reaction of Eliza and girls like her and suppress a shudder.

“You truly are nervous,” the earl says as if it is just occurring to him. I meet his stare, expecting to find teasing censure, but his expression is one of sympathy.

“I do not relish being the center of attention,” I say quietly.

His left hand is warm on mine. “I will be with you the entire time. All you need do is smile. I promise it will be brief.”

I feel my body soften at his words.

A footman dressed in crisp red and white livery holds the door for us. I tighten my hold on the earl’s arm, and he glances down at me. “Just smile,” he murmurs.

My lips curve upward, but I know this action does not banish the nervousness from my eyes. We enter the ballroom and pause at the top of a wide staircase, a sea of fashionably dressed ladies and gentlemen before us. So many people. Their whispers begin as soon as they catch sight of the earl beside me.

The earl stands quietly at my side, much closer than is strictly proper. Instead of making me uncomfortable, my tension eases as if the warmth radiating from him has a sedating effect. Just as it was in the Throne Room, my name is called, only this time, it is followed by the earl’s. He gives me a gentle pull, and we descend the stairs into the main ballroom. I smile up at him.

He glances down at me, his eyes returning my smile. “You will find I am a man of my word,” he says. “Was it not brief?”

“It was, my lord,” I say. “I can only hope the rest of the evening will go as smoothly.”

He pauses a few feet away from Robert and my grandmother. Taking both of my hands in his, he says, “It was a pleasure escorting you, Miss Sinclair. If you promise to save at least one dance for me, I will make sure your evening is very enjoyable indeed.” His look turns rakish, and though his words are terribly arrogant, my breath catches in my throat. He leans down and kisses the back of my hand.

For once, I find myself incapable of responding as he walks away.

“So your coming out is complete,” Robert says when we enter the main part of the ballroom. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am. I found the entire process tedious and agonizing.”

I elbow him in the ribs, but a nervous giggle escapes from my mouth. “Yes, I’m sure riding through London in a coach only to arrive at a sumptuous ball with endless refreshments was sheer torture.”

“Ah, but I have been with only Grandmama for company,” he says in low tones and with a glance back at our grandmother.

“Indeed, you do have a point,” I say as Grandmama joins us.

“This is a terrible crush,” Grandmama says, but she is smiling so widely you’d think she was the one to make her debut. She steps closer to me. “We must make the most of our time before supper is served at midnight. But first, some things to keep in mind. Though you did well during your naming, you will find Duchess Cecily’s ball is no country dance,” she sniffs pretentiously, “there are rules.” She is so serious that I must keep my eyes very still to prevent them from rolling back into my head. “Though Lord Thornewood has agreed to escort you to this ball, you must not cling to him through several dances. To do so is of extremely poor taste. I will seek out other suitable partners for you.”

“Can I not simply cling to Robert instead?” I ask, and he snickers.

She levels a mean glare at us both. “You’d do well to take this seriously. May I remind you that not only is your reputation on the line, but your family’s is as well.”

I stifle a sigh. God forbid I lighten the mood in this stuffy place. “Yes, Grandmama.”

“As I was saying, coquetry, excessive attention paid to one’s dancing partner, and undue contact between one another is entirely inappropriate in dancing. Also, should you become overheated, you may go out onto the balcony, but never in the company of a gentleman.” She gives us a look of extreme weariness. “Though in this case, I suppose, Robert is the exception.”

“I should hope so,” I say, quietly enough for her to ignore if she chooses, which she does.

She pauses to scan the room. “There, I see Lady Hasting. She promised to introduce us to an eligible cousin of the family.”

We follow as she weaves her way through the elegantly dressed men and women. Lady Hasting is easy to spot since she has adorned another ridiculously opulent hat, this time with beads and lace surrounding a fully intact pheasant. She and a slender man I assume to be the eligible cousin face away from us.

“There’s my Penelope,” Lady Hasting says to the man. “Does she not dance beautifully?” She turns when she notices my grandmother. “Oh, Lady Sinclair, I’m so glad you sought me out. Here is the delightful cousin I spoke of, Lord Russell Clemens, Baron of Blackburn. Lord Blackburn, may I present Lady Lucille Sinclair, Dowager Viscountess and her grandchildren, the Honorable Robert and Katherine Sinclair.”

If my grandmother were a sighthound, she could not be more alert. I can tell by the thinly masked surprise on her face she had no idea the cousin would be a baron—the lowest rank of the peerage, but a member nonetheless.

With a wide smile, he bows before us and I sink as gracefully as I can into a curtsy.

“I’m delighted to meet you all,” he says, his voice as enthusiastic as his smile. His eyes are a pale blue, which, combined with his wavy dark blonde hair, makes him look much younger than I believe him to be. I can’t help but compare his manner of greeting to my first encounter with the earl, and I have to say, I certainly appreciate the lack of sarcasm and arrogance.

“Lord Blackburn is newly in town after spending a few months in Scotland,” Lady Hasting says, nodding her head, which causes the hat to tip precariously.

“But not for the reason you may think,” he says and laughs.

He refers, no doubt, to Gretna Green in Scotland where young couples go to elope.

I return his smile. “I promise the thought didn’t cross my mind. I hope you visited Edinburgh, though. I’ve heard it is a fascinating city.”

“I did, actually, and I found myself quite enamored with it. The society, too, was very enjoyable.”

“What called you to Scotland?” Robert asks.

“Horse breeding. An acquaintance of mine has a particular bloodline of Thoroughbreds I have sought for many years.”

“Interested in the sport of kings, eh?” Robert says with a grin.

Lord Blackburn smiles, and I notice laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. “I can thank my father for that. He bequeathed me several good mares and stallions, so I have made it my life’s goal to expand our stables.”

“My sister and I are avid equestrians ourselves. Is your stable nearby?”

“It is indeed. You are both welcome to visit. I would dearly love the chance to speak at length with fellow equestrians.” He turns to me. “May I call on you later this week?”

“That would be lovely,” I say with a genuine smile.

“Splendid,” he says.

“Mr. Sinclair,” Lady Hasting says, “I was just pointing out to Lord Blackburn how beautifully my daughter dances.” She nods her head toward Penelope. Her gown is a lovely shade of blue and has so many ruffles that I can hear the
frou-frou
rustle from here. “See her there dancing with Mr. Young?”

“Yes, my lady,” Robert says with a hesitant tone.

Lady Hasting launches into all the many talents of her daughter to my uncomfortable brother, and my eyes wander around the room. I’m looking for him again. I try and force myself to watch Lady Hasting instead, but my eyes refuse to obey me.

The dance ends, and the first few bars of another waltz begin. Lord Blackburn says, “Miss Sinclair, would you do me the honor of a dance?”

I drag my attention to his smiling face. “Oh, yes of course. Thank you.”

We take our places on the gleaming dance floor, as he places one hand at the small of my back. When our hands join, he glances down, a curious look fleeting across his face. But in the time it takes me to blink, the look is gone, replaced by a contented smile. It makes me wonder if I imagined the whole exchange, since I sensed nothing unusual when we touched.

As we move through the elaborate steps of the dance, I take advantage of our central location on the dance floor to look for Eliza. I know she will only be too willing to make mention of Robert’s faux pas.

I find her among the dancers. She catches me watching her and gives me a haughty little smile, so I glance away at the people on the outskirts of the dance floor. Again, I find myself searching the crowd for the earl, and this time I cannot resist. I focus on gentlemen who are taller than the others, and after a moment, I find him. His eyes lock on mine, and I give a little jerk of surprise at his glower.

My feet make the correct dance steps, and I tell myself to stop staring at the earl, but the more I tell myself, the more I sneak glances at him. Why is he frowning so intensely at me?

“You dance beautifully,” Lord Blackburn says as we soar about the room. “Are you as graceful on a horse?”

I laugh. “Now how can I possibly answer such a question without sounding abominably conceited?”

“You must forgive me for putting you in such a precarious position. I think I can safely assume you are a skilled rider else your brother would not have recommended you.”

“But how can you be so sure my brother was not playing a wicked joke?” I say with a teasing smile.

Though I’m tempted to check to see if Lord Thornewood is still frowning, I force myself to look upon Lord Blackburn’s face instead. He is handsome; even his crooked bottom teeth are charming. With his lean frame and wan complexion, he seems almost fragile, as though his pale skin is actually porcelain. So different from the earl, whose presence could never be described as anything other than commanding.

“Another excellent point,” he says. “I shall be forced to trust my instinct.” He is quiet for a moment as we both catch our breaths. “I look forward to being proven right when you visit my stables. I would love to have friends with whom I can share this obsession of mine.”

His mention of the word
friends
relaxes muscles in my neck I didn’t even realize were tense. “It would be our pleasure, believe me. We love anything to do with horses.”

We spin in a circle again, and he leans toward me with a conspiratorial smile. “I say, do you have any idea who that gentleman is? The one who is even now staring daggers at us. I can’t imagine what we have done to wrong him.”