Dreaming of You (17 page)

“I say, is that her?” Andrew Darby asked from across the room, craning his neck to get a better look at the woman in question.
 

“Considering the crush surrounding her, I would assume so.”  Gavin’s bored tone relayed his lack of interest.
 

“Perchance Talbot was right then.  It may be that she
is
a real beauty.”  He raised up onto his toes.  “Damnation, I can’t get a decent look at her from here.”  Ignoring Gavin’s lackadaisical attitude, Andrew’s curiosity went undeterred as he shifted a few steps to the left.  “Devil take it,” he muttered under his breath
a moment later.  “I’m going for a closer look,” he said glancing back toward Gavin with an eager expression.  “Care to join me?”
 

“I’ll pass.”
 

“Suit yourself,” Andrew replied with a shrug, and then quickly moved off in search of a better vantage point to view Society’s newest addition, the widowed Countess of Edgington.
 

With one widowed countess already occupying his attention, he was hardly in need of another, Gavin mused as he watched Andrew weave his way through the throng.  He had yet to spot Anastasia amongst the milling guests, but he knew that she would be in attendance.  Regrettably, with his sister about, he would have to keep his distance from his current paramour until much later in the evening, as Natalie for some reason or other, had taken a decided disliking to Countess Petrovich.
 

As Penny had also foreseen, Melody soon found herself inundated with dance requests from a bevy of enthusiastic gentlemen, both young and old, a circumstance she found flattering, but slightly overwhelming as well.  Now, as she was led onto the dance floor by her second partner, a middle-aged gentleman with a balding pate, a rotund midsection and a salacious smile, she was once again inordinately relieved that she’d had the forethought to enlist the services of a skilled dance instructor prior to leaving Edgington.  It had taken weeks of practice to master the intricate steps of the quadrille, the cotillion, the differing versions of the waltz, and a slew of other popular dances, but the preparation had been well worth the time and effort, for she hadn’t embarrassed herself even once by missing a step or a turn as she had made her way across the floor with her first partner.
 

Unfortunately, her current partner Lord Pittwich wasn’t nearly as graceful on his feet as she was, and managed to trod upon her toes not once, but twice as they danced to the orchestra’s lively Scottish reel.  On a positive note however, the fast-paced tempo left little time for conversation and she had to endure only brief moments of the viscount’s effusive adulation.  It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the gracious compliments he bestowed upon her, but rather it was his wandering eye that left her feeling discomfited.  Though his praise was focused upon the beauty of her features, his gaze tended to drop far too frequently from her face to the revealing cut of her bodice.  Despite her genial smile, Melody felt only a tremendous sense of relief when the dance finally came to an end and she was returned to her cousin’s side.
 

“Are all of your toes still intact?” Penny asked with a knowing grimace, once Lord Pittwich had relinquished Melody’s arm and reluctantly moved away.
 

“I do not think any of them are broken, but I fear I may be sporting a bruise or two come morning,” Melody murmured under her breath as she cast a doleful glance at her cousin.  “If Lord Pittwich had spent half as much time paying attention to his footwork as he did to ogling my bosom it might have helped.”
 

Penny suppressed a chuckle.  “He is relatively harmless, as long as you do nothing to encourage him.”
 

“You can be assured that I most certainly will do nothing of the sort.”
 

“Come, let’s take a stroll on the terrace before the next set,” Penny said, looping her arm through Melody’s.  “Henry’s been coaxed into one of the card rooms I fear, but I shall fetch him for a waltz later on.”
 

“You seem very happy, Penny.”  They moved along the edge of the ballroom, heading for one of the many sets of open doors that lined the rear wall.
 

“I am.”  Her smile was genuine.
 

“I’m so glad,” Melody replied with sincerity.
 

Penny squeezed her arm.  “And what of you, my dear?  Were you happy with Edgington before he passed?”
 

Though Henry and Charles had been marginally acquainted before his death, Penny had never met her late husband.  “I was…content,” she hedged.
 

Penny nodded and didn’t press her further.  “And now?”
 

“What do you mean?”
 

“Well, you are still quite young, my dear.  Are you content with widowhood, or do you wish to remarry?”
 

It was a compelling question, and one that had crossed her mind on more than one occasion.  “Honestly, I am…not certain.”  It was true enough, for after being married to Charles, the institution of marriage held little appeal.  However, she couldn’t deny that at times she felt a touch of loneliness.  Though she would always have her dreams and the wonderful memories of the man she’d fallen in love with at the cottage, dreams and memories weren’t always enough.  Perhaps if he hadn’t awakened that part of her, the part that craved a man’s touch,
his touch
, she would be content.  But he had.
 

Fortunately she was spared from having to speak on the subject any further, for as they were just a few steps from one of the open doors, Penny’s attention was suddenly drawn by a lovely young lady standing off to the left.
 

“Natalie, how lovely to see you,” Penny greeted warmly as the other woman smiled and stepped toward them.
 

“Penny, I wasn’t sure if you would be in attendance this evening,” said the slender brunette as she approached.  “I hope this means that young Edward’s health is improving.”
 

“Yes, much to my relief the poor dear is finally on the mend.”
 

“How wonderful.  I am so glad to hear it.”  Her expression pleased, she then cast her gaze toward Melody.  
 

“Natalie, please allow me to introduce you to my cousin Melody Cavendish, Countess Edgington.  Melody, this is my dear friend Natalie Marshton, Viscountess Pennworth.”
 

“Lady Edgington, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Natalie said.  
 

“And yours, Lady Pennworth.”  
 

“Please, you must call me Natalie.”  She smiled warmly.  “As you are Penny’s cousin we are sure to become friends.”
 

“Of course,” Melody agreed with a friendly smile of her own.  “And please call me Melody.”  She was drawn to Natalie Marshton’s gregarious nature at once.  
 

“Melody and I were about to take a stroll along the terrace.  Would you care to join us, Natalie?”
 

“Thank you, but actually I am waiting for Gavin, though heaven only knows where he’s gone off to.”
 

“Am I mistaken, or did I just hear my name being bandied about?”  The deep voice was accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps.
 

Natalie immediately turned toward the voice, as did Melody and Penny.  “There you are.  I was beginning to fear that you had reneged upon your promise to take me for a turn about the gardens and had snuck off to one of the card rooms instead.”
 

“And have you tattling to Pennworth that I was lax in my duties as escort?” Gavin retorted with a look of mock affront.
 

“I do not tattle you wretch,” his sister proclaimed, rolling her eyes skyward.  “Honestly,” she said, shaking her head as she glanced between Penny and Melody, “he still treats me as if I were little more than a troublesome child.”
 

Penny’s features revealed her amusement as she dipped into a flawless curtsey.  “Good evening, Your Grace.”
 

“Lady Wexley,” Gavin greeted with a slight bow.  “How are you this evening?”
 

“I am quite well, Your Grace, thank you for asking.”  Penny replied amiably, and then turned toward Melody.  “Please allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Melody Cavendish, Countess Edgington, and Melody, allow me to present His Grace, Gavin Montrose, Duke of Rutherford.”
 

“How do you do, Lady Edgington?”
 

Melody’s eyes widened slightly as she dipped into her curtsey, for before her stood one of the most attractive men she had ever laid eyes upon.  “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”  She felt her cheeks grow warm, for even to her own ears her voice sounded faint and slightly uneven as she straightened.  She could only hope that the others didn’t pay particular notice.  
 

So this was the woman he’d been hearing so much about, Gavin realized.  Damn but Edward had the right of it the other night, she
was
a beauty.  However, unlike Anastasia’s dark, sensual beauty, this woman’s features were more classically beautiful, like the delicate perfection of an exquisite English rose.  Also unlike Anastasia, Lady Edgington possessed an unmistakable air of innocence he found both surprising and refreshing, for the faint blush on her cheeks and the slight waver in her voice were both quite telling.  It seemed somewhat at odds with her widowed status, but perhaps it was simply because her late husband had kept his young bride tucked away in the country, sheltered from the audacious and oft-times outright licentious behavior of Society.  Regardless, he found her apparent artlessness captivating.
 

Pulling his gaze from her lovely countenance, he turned his regard to Lady Wexley.  “Would you ladies care to join us on our tour of the gardens?” he asked politely.
 

“Thank you, Your Grace, but no.  I am afraid that we’ve only time for a brief stroll along the terrace,” Penny informed him.  “Lady Edgington has promised the next set to Mr. Darby.”
 

“I see.”  Mentally congratulating Andrew on his good fortune, he turned his gaze back to Melody Cavendish.  “Well then, if your dance card isn’t
entirely
full, perhaps I could persuade you to take a turn about the dance floor with me later this evening, Lady Edgington.”
 

Suddenly Melody was inordinately thankful that she had deliberately left the last dance of the evening open.   “I would be honored, Your Grace.”  Melody nodded her ascent.  “I believe the final waltz is yet unspoken for.”
 

“The final waltz it is then.”  With a polite bow to Penny and Lady Edgington, he turned his attention once again to his sister.  “Shall we?” he asked, offering Natalie his arm.
 

Once Melody and Penny had made their way onto the terrace and had moved out of hearing distance of the other men and women who were enjoying the night air, Penny squeezed Melody’s arm, her voice dropping to just above a whisper.  “I do believe you have gained yet another admirer,” she proclaimed, her expression pleased.  “If I weren’t madly in love with Henry I fear I would be pea-green with envy.”   
 

“He is quite handsome, isn’t he?”  Melody whispered back, fearing that she was blushing once again.
 

“My dear let us be honest, the Duke of Rutherford is a great deal
more
than handsome; he is gorgeous as sin.  He is also devilishly charming, which has made him exceedingly sought-after by all of the eligible,
and ineligible
, ladies of the
ton
.  Not that he seems to mind overmuch,” Penny added with a grin.
 

Melody’s brows raised a fraction.  “Is he considered a rake then?”
 

“I daresay that in his younger years Rutherford
was
a bit of a rogue, but now that he has ascended to the title he appears much less eager to tarnish his reputation with the scandalous pursuits he might once have enjoyed, or at the very least he is keeping his amorous activities notably more discreet.
 

“Well, in any event, I am sure that he was only being polite when he requested a dance.”
 

“Oh, I would not be so
sure
of that at all,” Penny replied with a knowing smile.  “I saw the way he looked at you.”
 

Melody’s eyes widened.  “The way he looked at me?  Whatever do you mean?”
 

“Let’s just say…that if you
are
discontented with your current marital status,” she said, referring to their prior conversation, “you would be hard pressed to find an admirer more desirable than Rutherford.”
 

“Honestly Penny,” Melody scoffed.  “He requested a dance, not permission to court me.”
 

“Not yet anyhow,” her cousin teased, as they continued their leisurely stroll.  “But one never knows what the future holds.”
 

It was only then that Melody realized that her attention had been fixated so raptly on the duke’s remarkably handsome face, that she had scarcely paid particular notice to the sound of his voice.
 

“Lady Edgington is quite lovely, is she not?” Natalie asked in a deceptively ingenuous voice, as she and Gavin walked along the smooth gravel path that led to the Middleton’s rear garden.
 

“Indeed.”  Though Gavin
wholeheartedly
agreed, he kept his tone deliberately blasé, fairly certain he knew where their conversation was heading.
 

“I daresay she is even more beautiful than Countess Petrovich, wouldn’t you agree?”
 

And there it was.
  Gavin cast his sister an amused, sidelong glance.  “You needn’t continue disparaging poor Anastasia my dear; I assure you that I have no pressing desire to surrender my bachelorhood to
her
or to anyone else for that matter, despite you and mother’s never-ending pleas for me to take a wife.”