Laurie Brown (21 page)

Josie would have mentioned that Amelia had taught her how to adjust her gloves in order to eat, but the chance passed. Mrs.
Binns was on a roll and continued along the same vein until Josie had finished the last bite of her rice pudding.

“And finally, do have fun. Don’t worry; you’ll do fine. Now go finish getting dressed.”

Josie thanked her chaperone for all the good advice and returned to her room. Dora had laid out the ball gown, stuffed with
tissue paper to keep it from creasing, on the bed.

“Isn’t it the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen?”

Actually it looked rather like a headless corpse at the moment. A very nicely dressed corpse, she had to admit. She had never
worn a gown half as fine.

Dora had put on white cotton gloves to handle the delicate material, and with her painstaking help Josie donned the dress
and then looked in the mirror. The empire-waist silk gown was a shade lighter than her eyes, making them appear darker blue.

Silver threads gave the fabric a shimmer that was echoed along the bottom third of the skirt by three rows of sparkling silver
and crystal beaded fringe, each a full six inches in length. Extra material gathered onto the back of the bodice gave room
to move without spoiling the straight lines of the gown.

Dora puffed up the tiny sleeves accented with a row of brilliant crystal beads. Josie pulled up on the low-cut bodice, but
Dora slapped her hands away.

“It’s perfect just as it is,” the maid said.

“I’m not comfortable displaying half my boobs, er, breasts. If I twist around too quickly, they’ll pop right out.”

“Then don’t twist around.Turn your entire body.”

Now even Dora sounded like Mrs. Binns. Josie rolled her eyes and yanked upward on the bodice again.

“Here,” Dora said. She tucked a tiny bouquet of a few violets and a bit of lace into Josie’s cleavage.

“This tussy-mussy should do the trick.”

Josie looked down to view the effect. At least her cleavage was covered. “Better.”

Dora added elbow-length gloves, a circlet of blue flowers made from beads and ribbons on Josie’s head, and sapphire earbobs.“Lady
Honoria insisted on lending you these when she saw your dress.”

“I will remember to thank her.”

Dora looped over Josie’s wrist the ribbon handles of a dark blue fan and a small beaded reticule just large enough to hold
a lace-trimmed handkerchief and the inevitable vial of smelling salts.

“You probably won’t be needing this,” Dora said, laying the shawl made of white silk embroidered with blue flowers over Josie’s
arm. “But it completes the
ensemble
. I learned that word from Lady Griffin’s French maid.”

“Don’t I need a necklace, maybe a ribbon?” Josie suggested since she had no jewelry of her own.

“Oh, no. You want a smooth, uninterrupted expanse of skin to attract the gentlemen.”

Josie shook her head.Women who wouldn’t dare show their ankles would parade around a ballroom nearly naked from the boobs
up. She turned toward the mirror again and was amazed by the image there. She had to admit the ensemble was stunning.

“You look like a princess,” Dora said.

The funny thing was, Josie
felt
like a princess.

But was she ready to go downstairs and face a roomful of strangers and Dev? Would he think she was beautiful? Would he ask
her to dance?

Josie shook those thoughts out of her head.

Beautiful clothes should not affect the person she was inside. No dancing. Detached observation was the researcher’s credo.At
the stroke of midnight she would change from princess back to scientist, and there would be no glass slipper for her.

She’d best remember that.

“Mrs. Osman told us we can watch from the balcony when we’re not needed,” Dora said.“I’ll be so proud to point out my miss
to that snooty French maid.”

Mrs. Binns called out that it was time to leave if they wanted to arrive before the dancing started.

“Are you ready, my dear?”

“One moment.”

Josie thanked Dora for her help and left her room to attend her first, and last, Regency ball.

Fifteen

B
Y THE TIME JOSIE AND MRS. BINNS
descended
the stairs, only the butler, a footman, and two maids waited in the main foyer to help any late arrivals with their wraps
and hats.With a formal bow, the butler indicated the entry to the parlor on Josie’s right.To her surprise, the far wall, which
she’d thought was simply wood paneling, was in actuality floor-to-ceiling doors that folded back. The parlor furniture had
been rearranged, and the room made a grand antechamber to the ballroom.

Josie paused just inside the doorway. She’d seen the ballroom before, but nothing had prepared her for the glittering spectacle
of a thousand candles, mountains of fresh flowers, and hundreds of guests in silks and satins. She descended the wide marble
steps she’d originally thought was the stage for the musicians. Mrs. Binns stayed a step behind to allow Josie a dramatic
entrance.

A number of guests turned her way, but Josie figured curiosity drove their actions. The musicians struck up a tune, and Mrs.
Binns guided Josie to the sidelines. Without conscious thought her gaze sought out Dev. She located him quite easily.He was
the center of attention as he led his mother out onto the empty dance floor to formally open the ball.

After a stately promenade around the dance floor, other dancers joined Dev and Honoria for the rest of the dance. She could
not help watching him, fascinated that such a big man, a head above most of the other dancers, could move with such grace.
He made the complicated steps look effortless. As each turn caused him to face her, he found her gaze and smiled.

She could have watched him all night, but Mrs. Binns had another agenda.

“Don’t get your hopes up, my dear,” the chaperone whispered behind her fan. “Lord Waite will be occupied for some time with
his obligatory dances. Honored guests and the highest-ranking females are in line in front of you.Though I’d bet my best whalebone
stays he’ll save the supper dance for you.”

“I told you I didn’t intend...”

“Ah, there she is. Lady Jersey.The queen arbiter of London society. Quite the coup for Honoria to have her accept her invitation.
Don’t stare at her as if she were an exotic animal in the zoo. Act nonchalant,” Mrs. Binns said, even though she herself appeared
as excited as a game show contestant. “I must present you to her. You simply must have entrée to Almack’s or your London Season
will be a disaster.”

“If you say so.” Josie’s laid-back attitude was real. She wouldn’t be there for the Season and would never set foot in Almack’s.

“We’ll work our way over to her, but not directly.We don’t want to appear too keen. Deferential, yes, but not eager. I recommend
you not accept any invitations to dance until after you meet Lady Jersey.”

“Fine with me.”

Mrs. Binns stopped to introduce Josie to several nearby ladies. After a few insipid comments on the weather, the decorations,
and the music, they moved on to the next group. And repeated the process. Mrs. Binns cleverly fended off any young men who
might have a dance invitation in mind.

Josie quickly got the hang of the chitchat and was able to act her small role in the conversation and still keep an eye on
the dance floor. Dev looked more than yummy in his formal clothes. Only a man secure in his masculinity could carry off a
sapphire blue waistcoat, an embroidered vest, and white satin knee breeches with such panache. His smiles in her direction
seemed to indicate he wanted to seek her out.

By the time they’d worked their way down the length of the room, Josie realized she truly missed air-conditioning. Even though
the glitterati of the Regency ballroom were beautiful, most of them used heavy perfume in a futile attempt to mask body odor.The
room was overly warm, and the air was so thick with scents that Josie’s head pounded.

“Here we are,”Mrs. Binns said as they approached the corner where Lady Jersey held court.“Mind your p’s and q’s.”

The introduction went pretty much like all the others until Lady Jersey asked Josie, “Are you related to Mrs. Drummond Burrell?”

“Um...I don’t think so.”

“She is also a patroness of Almack’s,” Mrs. Binns whispered.

“Everyone knows that,” Lady Jersey said with a flip of her fingers. “I do believe her father, James Drummond, Lord Perth,
had some distant cousin who went to the colonies.What was the name of that place? Boston, if I’m not mistaken.”

“She rarely is,” Mrs. Binns whispered.

Lady Jersey ignored her. “Do you have relatives there?”

“My family is from Baltimore,” Josie said truthfully.

“That’s the town I was thinking of. I don’t know what made me say Boston. Sadly I admit my knowledge of your geography is
somewhat limited.We must chat further on this when you are in town next. I’ll have Mrs. Drummond Burnell and a few others
who have friends and acquaintances in the colonies to tea. I’m sure we’ll find we know some of the same people.”

Josie didn’t think the six-degrees-of-separation theory applied across the centuries, but without any way to explain her disagreement
she simply smiled and nodded. She let Mrs. Binns and Lady Jersey carry the rest of the conversation and walked away feeling
like a bobble-head figurine. And it didn’t do much for her headache, either.

“That went well,”Mrs. Binns said with a cat-got-the-cream smile as they resumed their circuit around the ballroom.“Now let’s
find you a dance partner.” She watched the dancers parade past them as if she was the judge at a dog show.“Hmmm.No.No. Definitely
not him. Oh, there. Lord Fennimothy is perfect for starters. Leave everything to me.”

Josie opened her mouth to remind her chaperone she couldn’t dance, but Mrs. Binns had been momentarily distracted from her
duties by an old friend. Josie seized the opportunity and escaped into the gallery.The long hallway was deserted and cooler
than the ballroom. She immediately felt better.

“You look especially fetching tonight.”

Josie spun around to face Deverell. Despite his semitransparent manifestation, the ghost was perfectly dressed for the occasion
in dove gray knee breeches and a charcoal waistcoat.

She curtseyed properly and thanked him. Then she grinned.“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He bent at the waist, making a leg as they called the formal bow.“Miss Drummond, may I have the honor of this dance?”

To her surprise she wanted to, but she shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Come, come. If you can walk to the beat of the music, you can do this step. Just follow my lead.”

Remembering his pithy comments during her first and only dance lesson, she said, “Only if you promise not to criticize.”

He held out his arm and she placed her gloved hand on it. Or technically above his arm because she couldn’t actually touch
him since he wasn’t fully materialized.

At first the steps were simple. He gradually added twists and turns, skips and hops as they danced the length of the gallery
and back again. By the time they reached their starting point she was breathless.

“I knew you would prove to be a good dancer simply by the way you carry yourself,” he said. “You have an innate sense of rhythm
and body movement.”

“Thank you,” she said.“Of course if helps when you can step
through
your partners toes,” she added with a giggle.

“You did not. I would have noticed if you had.”

“Well, it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

“Why do you keep putting yourself down, as your generation would say?”

Josie shrugged. The music changed to a waltz and she stepped back.

“Our set is not over,” he said.“When you agree to partner, it is for two dances.” He must have realized her problem because
he showed her a simple box step and let her practice a few times before holding out his arms.

Her anxiety was for her feet and not proximity to him. She moved into the circle of his arms without hesitation.

After a making a few boxes together, he said, “Close your eyes and feel the music. Now we’ll try moving. No, keep your eyes
closed so you can’t look at your feet.”

“No criticism.”

“Right-o. Please keep your eyes closed and allow me to guide you.When I want you to move backward, I’ll push with my left
hand, thusly.”

Josie kept making the box with her feet and smoothly transitioned to moving backward.

“And when I want you to dance forward, I will apply light pressure on your back with my right hand. Do you feel that?”

“Yes.”

“That is how I would conduct you around obstacles such as other dancers and how I lead you through the steps.”

“Like steering a bus.”

“If I can’t criticize you, then you can’t criticize yourself. Promise? Thank you. Now for the turn.

Step, slide, and close.That’s the way.”

Before she knew it they were making wide sweeping turns around the room. Waltzing was pure joy, like floating down a lazy
river in slow eddying circles. She could not help but smile.

Suddenly, Deverell was gone. She stumbled to a halt and looked around for the elusive ghost. Instead Dev approached from the
far end of the gallery.

There was no way she could escape facing him.

“Why do you dance alone when I so eagerly sought to partner you?”Dev asked as he came near.

“I...I was practicing. I don’t really know how to dance.”

“Your waltzing is as beautiful as you are. You have an innate sense of rhythm. I knew by the way you carry yourself that you
would prove to be a wonderful dancer.”

Déjà vu
. Josie blinked. He...his ghost had said almost those exact words.

“Miss Drummond, may I have the honor of this dance?”

Danger, danger
, the voice in her head screeched.

She ignored the warning, raised her arms to the dance position, and stepped into Dev’s embrace.

But her recent lessons with Deverell had not prepared her for the amazing sensation of dancing with Dev. Although he held
her at a proper distance and they both wore gloves, she felt the warmth of his hand cupping hers, his light touch on her bare
back, and the firmness of his bicep beneath the silky fabric of his waistcoat.

Her body temperature ratcheted up a notch due to his nearness. He smelled of soap, bay rum aftershave, and that exotic scent
that was his alone. She could have stood just so and listened to the lovely music, but he started the steps of the dance and
she followed his lead. Simply at first, almost dancing in place as they synched their body’s movements to the tempo, and to
each other.

His mischievous grin gave her a moment’s warning before he swept her into grand circles as they glided across the floor. Their
bodies moved apart and came back together as he swung her out to arm’s length and then curled her back into his embrace. More
than floating, they were flying in tandem. His smile of pleasure resonated to her toes.

He gathered her close and spun her in a tight, fast turn as the music rose to a crescendo. Joy bubbled up and she threw her
head back with laughter.

Then the music stopped.

Yet he did not release her.

Dev stared at the woman in his arms and realized Josie affected him as no one else ever had.A vision of her lying naked on
his bed invaded his head and was more intoxicating than the finest brandy. Addicting. Could his light-headedness mean he was
falling in love? Breathing became difficult. He felt as if a high-tempered steed had kicked him in the chest. If this was
love, he wanted none of it.

He could not deny he wanted this woman as he had no other. But that was merely lust, and that he understood.

Lust was controllable and would prove his salvation. She had played with his passion for long enough. In his experience a
display of unrestrained ardor would result in a young miss scurrying for the protection of her chaperone. She would have to
leave him because he knew he had not the strength to send her away, even to save himself.

He tightened his embrace and kissed her with the fierce need burning his soul.

But Josie was not the usual Regency miss. She responded with equal ardor, kissing him back, pulling him closer still. Flame
meeting fire. She folded her arms around his neck and moaned into his mouth.

He slid his hand lower and cupped her derriere. She ground her hips against his rock hard erection.

Breathless, he lifted his head. They could not make love in the middle of the gallery. He looked around and forced his brain
to function.Where was the nearest place of privacy?

A new vision wormed its way into his head.

Josie with a babe at her breast. The instantaneous surge of pride was the scariest thing he had ever experienced, including
his first duel. His body, however, responded to the image with intensified desire.

Josie drew in a deep breath, the extra oxygen helping to clear her senses. She couldn’t possibly be falling in love with a
man from the past, could she?

Damn ghost and his crazy scheme had brought her to an impossible situation.Taking the first step backward, away from Dev,
was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she knew that if she stayed, she would sob out her love and despair.

“I have to go,” she croaked out. The stark truth in more ways than one. She turned away. As she hurried back to the ballroom
and the relative safety of the crowd, she refused to allow herself a final look back.

Dev watched her scurry away and forced himself not to follow as instinct prodded him to do. He credited frustrated lust as
the cause of the impulse, refusing to entertain the other outrageous notion that persistently tried to surface. He, too, left
the gallery, but not to return to the dancing. Not yet.

Not with his desire still obvious. He needed a few moments to collect his thoughts. And a cold shower to calm his raging libido.

Josie looked for her chaperone, intending to tell her she had a headache and wanted to retire to her room. Why torture herself
by watching Dev waltz with other women, hold them in his arms? She would have to return downstairs in time for the séance,
of course, and she would see him there. She stifled a sob. If she was lucky, Dev would be having so much fun dancing he wouldn’t
bother to come. Either way, pain was inevitable.