Learning to Waltz (13 page)

Reluctantly, she gave him her hand and responded to his polite inquiry after her welfare and Julian’s.

“I must apologize, Deborah. The viscount’s company has begun arriving—I’m sure you saw them inside. I’ll not have much time to spend with you over the next couple of weeks.”

“It’s not a matter for apology, sir.”

Then she saw the Beauty, finishing a brief exchange with Miss Latimer and her fiancé, turn to find Evan in close conversation with a country dowd in a worn woolen pelisse with no silk or lace or fur showing anywhere. The Beauty’s red lips smirked, the lovely curve of her eyebrow lifted. Deborah flushed in embarrassment and indignation. Then she lifted her chin and met Beauty’s eyes boldly for a long moment.

Mr. Haverfield glanced over his shoulder to see the woman moving toward them. He gave Deborah’s hand a quick squeeze, said he hoped to see them on the morrow, and turned away.

“
Cosí, il mio caro, chi è il vostro inamorata?”
That acidic tongue that Evan had managed to steer away from Deborah was inevitably directed toward him instead.

Amanda had finished her farewells and put up the window of her carriage, and then turned to make some remark to Evan when Blythe cut in with her own ill-mannered utterance. Easy enough for her to guess that Miss Amanda Latimer of Whately Manor, schooled at home more in the ways of horses and hounds than in the accomplishments of noblewomen, would not understand Italian. Evan was far too polite to carry on a conversation in a language unknown to his hostess, even had he been fluent enough himself to accomplish it. And he was not having
that
conversation in
any
language. If Blythe had hoped to disconcert him, he was glad to disappoint her.

He regarded her for a moment, very coolly indeed. “Just a local widow with whom I have some acquaintance.”

“Ohhh, a widow.” A world of understanding filled the drawn-out exclamation, and then a soft gushing laugh. “Well, a man must fill his needs and who better than a widow to accommodate him. I rather look forward to being a widow myself.”

This accorded so neatly with Evan’s thoughts by the pond on the previous day that he nearly choked. Amanda said with unusual severity, “I collect you speak of Mrs. Moore? I can assure you, Lady Blythe, you mistake the nature of their acquaintance.”

Blythe raised one sculpted eyebrow skeptically.

The party went riding later in the day. They split up in various groups, though Latimer never strayed far from Lady Honora. Those two were joined by Sudbury and then by Evan. Sudbury entertained Evan with off-color jokes and some anecdotes about his children. Evan could not have cared less.

Amanda and Lady Blythe rode ahead of them, deep in conversation. Then Blythe broke away with a peal of laughter and turned back to meet them. She tried to tempt Evan with a race, but he declined, and she took off at a gallop with the earl. Amanda slowed to join Evan, while Latimer continued alongside his lady-love, poking along in the rear.

“She’s going to get tired of Frank,” Amanda said, once they were out of earshot.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen any sign yet of a superior intellect. Usually, he gets tired of them.”

“It seems different this time. But I suppose it’s too soon to claim her for my sister.”

“I should hope so. She just got here yesterday.” Evan glanced over his shoulder at the subject of their discussion. “I gather you like her?”

“I do. She seems sensible. After our game of loo last night, when Lady Blythe was throwing herself at you in that appalling way, I heard her suggest to Lady Blythe that her courtship tactics were likely to miscarry. Blythe doesn’t seem the type to heed advice, unfortunately. And the way she behaved in church this morning…”

“Well, she didn’t want to go at all. I didn’t either, but church sounded much better than a
tête-à-tête
with her at the house.”

“Lord, yes.”

“I’m sorry about the incident in the carriage afterward, Amanda. Someone failed to teach her manners.”

“
Everyone
failed to teach her manners, but
you
have nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t
your
job.” Amanda rode in silence for a moment, a crease between her brows. “She wanted to hear about Master Moore’s rescue.”

Evan smacked his crop against his boot. Lookout shied at the sound. “I wish you hadn’t told her. You can bet everyone else will have the whole tale within ten minutes of their arrival.”

“Well, why not? It’s a very flattering story. There’s certainly nothing for you to be ashamed of.”

“You can bet there will be, the way Blythe tells it. She makes a difficult guest, doesn’t she?”

“My Aunt Chastity will be here tomorrow, but I don’t suppose…”

“Chastity?” Evan had thought he knew the guest list.

“You know her, Evan. Miss Chiggerford, my chubby chaperone. Her parents had an unfortunate penchant for alliteration.
She
has an unfortunate penchant for food.”

He remembered her vaguely. “Do you really think she’d say anything to Blythe?” The woman behaved like a mouse, despite her stature. She’d never exerted any influence over Amanda as far as he could tell.

Amanda shook her head. “My money’s on your sister. If she can’t keep you safe from that doxy, I don’t know who can.”

Alberta, the Countess of Witney, sat at the dressing table in Viscount Latimer’s best guest chamber. She’d had grander accommodations, but it was tolerable. It smelled fresh, the fireplace did not smoke, and a vase of flowers added color. She hoped the sheets had been well-aired.

“My dear,” she said to her husband as she prepared for bed, “I agree with you completely. Her manner is offensive and her judgment questionable. Nevertheless, she would be a fitting bride for him if he wants her. She’s well-bred and—”

Her lord interrupted her with a snort. “I’m sorry, Berta, you cannot call conduct like that well-bred.”

“But Theo, her breeding
is
impeccable. She’s angling for a husband, that’s all, and it has led her beyond the line of what is pleasing. Once married, do you not think she would settle down?”

“It’s possible,” replied Theo. “On the other hand, she would have money to spend, and her family has never been known for thrift. Or fidelity, for that matter. I say she would break the bank in short order, and if he cared for her, she’d break his heart too. And you know, my dear, I’m an excellent judge of character.” He plucked at the front of her nightdress and peered inside. “And some other things as well.”

Alberta slapped his hand. “Do something useful,” she said, giving him her comb. “Well, ’tis early days yet. I can’t say Evan was very encouraging to the girl this evening.”

“Lord, no. The soldier, though—Westwood, is it?—seemed inclined to flirt.”

It was her turn to snort. “She’d never have him. From the looks of him, he has no more money than she does. I can’t imagine how the viscount came to befriend such a rough, unpolished sort of man. He
smokes
, Theo.”

He laughed at her in the mirror as he teased a snarl out of her hair. “The ultimate sin. Spent too long in America—many of ’em come back that way. His birth is genteel, I’m told. And I believe, my dear, that Latimer will befriend anyone who likes horses.”

For the hundredth time, Alberta wished she’d gotten the thick curls Evan and Elizabeth had. “I do wish I had inquired who was on the guest list before accepting the invitation.”

He laughed again. “Come now, Berta, you know you would never do anything half so rude. It’ll be great fun watching this motley assortment. I’ve some watching to do myself yet this evening—I’m promised to the winner of the first match. Sleep well, my love. I’ll report to you in the morning.” He bussed her on the lips and returned downstairs to billiards and brandy.

Theo missed his chance at the second match. Captain Westwood had won out over Latimer and was now playing against Evan, but with a variation—a partner, in the feminine shape of Lady Blythe. Men considered billiards sacrosanct to the male sex, but the lady either didn’t know or didn’t care. And her brother, who might have sent her to bed when her sister went up, was snoring on a sofa in the drawing room. Hardly an adequate chaperone for Lord Hartwell and his fiancée, seated side-by-side on the piano bench. Theo had heard far more snoring than music as he passed by on his way to the billiard room.

In the several hours since his arrival in Whately, Theo had twice heard the Captain offer Blythe his services—“whatever services you may desire, my lady.” Undoubtedly he’d had a different sort of recreation in mind, but billiards looked intimate enough. The unconventional partnership stretched half across the table to reach an awkward shot, the Captain’s arms close round her to guide her hands. Her bodice revealed as much as it concealed as she laughed up at Evan at the far end of the table.

Latimer appeared quite intoxicated—they’d all had plenty to drink—and seemed oblivious to her charms, though perhaps that was because he was on the wrong side of the room. Or perhaps he was thinking about his Honora, who had retired—very properly—to her chamber. At least Blythe was not insipid.

Evan welcomed his brother-in-law with a grimace and a roll of the eyes. Theo thought he was taking the whole thing too seriously. He himself found Blythe quite entertaining—or he had until Berta started going on about marrying the vixen to her brother. Well, he’d do what he could to deflect her schemes, but he certainly had no objection if the hussy insisted on exposing herself. And it was clear that Westwood would take whatever was on offer.

The ball missed the pocket—hardly surprising—and Evan easily ran off the three remaining shots to win the game.

“Too bad, Captain.” Theo patted him on the shoulder in consolation. “You’re handicapping yourself, riding with extra weight.”

“Aw, she just needs a little more training,” Westwood responded.

Theo grinned. “Then we can all take turns, eh?” The men were mostly drunk enough to find this hilarious. Lady Blythe laughed too, but she also blushed. That was a surprise.

Evan did not laugh, but he relaxed a fraction and chalked up his cue for a match with Theo.

Blythe left them shortly thereafter, showing her pretty teeth in an artistic yawn and rejecting Captain Westwood’s offer to show her to her room. “Do you think I cannot find it by myself, Captain?”