Chapter 7
Ambrose was no master chess player; however, he had believed himself to be a more than satisfactory strategist. Except over the past fortnight the woman walking next to him back into the overcrowded and stuffy ballroom had humbled him into the realization that he’d never put forward much effort to gain the lady’s attention.
Sidestepping a group of debutantes who were making their debut, Ambrose escorted Daphne back to his sister”s side.
“Egad, where did the two of you disappear to?” Alice asked. His sister’s gaze flickered between him and Daphne and landed on Daphne. “Due to your absence, I was forced to take a turn about the floor with Foxton.”
“My apologies. I know how the man vexes you.”
Ambrose searched the room for Foxton. “It appears you successfully dispatched the man…yet again.”
“He’s gone to lick his wounds in the card room.” Alice’s smile disappeared. “At least that is where he claimed to be headed.”
Daphne took a step forward and reached out to clasped both of Alice’s hands in hers. He disliked the space she’d placed between them even if it was a mere foot.
“Let’s adjourn to the ladies’ retiring room for a bit,” Daphne suggested.
Alice nodded and gave Ambrose a weak smile.
Fury at the man who had clearly upset his sister rolled through Ambrose. “I’ll pummel Foxton as soon as I find him.”
“Don’t.” Alice’s reply lacked her normal conviction. “I mean you shouldn’t.”
“Why ever not?”
“I shouldn’t have pried into his affairs. I shouldn’t care a fig if he spent the afternoon with his mistress or at his club. I shouldn’t have...” A tear trickled down his sister’s cheek. She brushed it away with the back of her hand while simultaneously rolling her shoulders back. “You were right, Ambrose, people do treat you differently when you are on the brink of financial ruin. I’ve been naive up til now.”
He waited until Daphne and Alice had exited before he set off to hunt down the man who had upset Alice. Foxton knew the rumors were lies. He let Alice’s words sink in. Mistress. Naive. Ambrose’s hands balled into fists. Foxton wouldn’t have dared to suggest Alice consider a future as someone’s…no…his mistress. Damnation, Foxton was a rake of the highest order. Ambrose caught sight of his reflection in a mirror hung along the hall and froze. He shouldn’t be angry at Foxton. This whole situation was his doing, pretending to be penniless.
He swiveled and sought out a quiet alcove to think.
Daphne had always been close at hand until he had enacted his scheme. Had Daphne been swayed by the gossip? Was assisting Alice her only reason for agreeing to court him? Damn it all to hell, his scheme was to find an understanding woman who would not reject him no matter what his darkest secrets were.
“Ahem.” Foxton’s head peered through the curtain panel that shielded Ambrose from the masses. “There you are! You can’t hide here all night.”
“If my being here prevents scoundrels from utilizing the space, then I’m quite content to remain here for the rest of the night.”
Foxton pushed back the curtain and sat next to Ambrose. Arms crossed, Foxton released a sigh and stared at the tips of his boots.
“Out with it, Foxton.”
Rather than respond, Foxton shrugged.
A group of four debutantes passed them, giggling behind fluttering fans and giving Foxton covert glances.
“Did the queen declare a diamond yet?”
Foxton shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Not that I’m aware of. I can only hope that Lilly doesn’t attract the same attention as my other three sisters did during their come out or I’ll have no rest at all this Season.”
“Lady Lillian is as lovely if not more so than her sisters. I’d imagine there is a lot of pressure for the gel.” Ambrose leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “Mayhap I should…”
“I’ll not have you as a brother-in-law.”
“Ah… to hear that sets my mind at ease. Here I was worried you might be considering pursuing my sister this Season.”
“What? I thought Alice hated me.”
“She does.”
“Oh.” The glimmer of hope fizzled from Foxton’s features.
Fustian! Ambrose suspected that despite all the man’s insensitive comments over the years, Foxton secretly had a fondness for Alice’s direct manner. She was the only one who held Foxton’s feet to the fire. He might bemoan their conversations, yet he sought her out at every event only to end the evening at odds with each other. Yet there was no denying that there was an energy that ebbed and flowed between his sister and Foxton. He could feel it span across the room. The hem of his sister’s pale-pink silk gown with the expensive delicate white lace trim appeared in his peripheral vision. The blasted lace reminded Ambrose of the meddling modiste and the lengths Daphne would go for the sake of his sister. Except he had to admit if Miss Lennox had not agreed to cooperate, he might have remained blinded to Daphne. He needed to find a way to spend more time alone with Daphne to discover if there was a possibility that the woman’s heart warmed like his whenever they were in close proximity.
The tip of Alice’s slipper emerged from beneath her skirts and she kicked Foxton, who bolted upright.
“Bloody hell, woman.”
Ambrose shot to his feet. “Foxton. Language.”
“Beg pardon, Lady Daphne.” Foxton nodded in Daphne’s direction and then proceeded to glare at Alice who was smirking down at the man.
The two of them were impossible.
Daphne grabbed Alice by the wrist and presented Foxton with Alice’s dance card. “You can apologize on the dance floor. I believe Alice has the waltz free.”
Was the woman insane suggesting the two take to the floor? Ambrose’s toes ached on Foxton’s behalf. Alice had a tendency to stomp on the toes of her partners according to the many gentlemen who sought him out after a ball to implore him to hire a dance instructor for his sister.
Foxton scribbled his name on Alice’s card. “I look forward to our dance, Miss Alice.”
Foxton jabbed Ambrose in the ribs and sent a look toward Lady Daphne’s dance card. Right. He should ask Daphne to dance but he, like his sister, wasn’t the most light-footed dancer. Ambrose leaned forward and asked softly, “Do you dare to venture onto the dance floor with me?”
Daphne smiled and held out her dance card for him. He scribbled his initials and nearly poked a hole through the parchment when he overheard his sister mutter to Foxton, “It’s rumored a lady can tell a lot about man and his skills in the bedroom from the way he dances.”
“It’s best if you simply ignore them,” Daphne said and looped her arm through his. “Shall we make our way back to the ballroom?”
It wasn’t a request. He followed Daphne’s lead but took a moment to look over his shoulder to ensure his sister was fine. “Should I be worried for Alice or for Foxton?”
Daphne giggled and answered, “Most definitely Foxton.”
Ambrose found himself grinning and trained his focus on the gorgeous woman walking beside him. Alice could no doubt handle Foxton, but he was questioning his own abilities to sort out matters with Daphne.