Chapter Thirty
The Nelsons’ ball was buzzing with noise and activity.
The dance floor was filled with happy couples and gay laughter and conversation bounced off the walls, bright and loud enough to be heard over the music.
The Nelsons’ home, one of the largest on the street, possessed what could truly be called a ballroom.
So, even though there were many guests, it did not seem too crowded.
Robert arrived shortly after the first set had begun.
Although he could see many young ladies along the sides awaiting partners and caught their admiring and hopeful glances, he assiduously ignored them and strolled outside onto the large balcony.
There, he found just what he was hoping for: a broad stone staircase leading to the gardens below and more than a few places where he hoped to lead Miss Phoebe Graham for an assignation that would all but assure him her hand—and dowry.
“Robert, there you are.”
He turned to see Simon and Edward, both moving toward him. He debated on which one he would enlist for his devious plan. Either would suffice, but Simon was undoubtably the slightly less intelligent of the two, Robert felt, and therefore not as likely to suspect he was being used in any manner.
“Good to see you two,” Robert said heartily. “And, thank you again for your help in securing an invitation for tonight, Edward.”
His friend laughed. “I should be thanking you. Lady Nelson was so thrilled to hear you were back in town, she nearly kissed me when she learned she would be able to invite one of the Season’s most eligible bachelors to her ball. I am certain she wants the credit should a match be made in her home.”
“I declare,” Simon added, “it astounds me how they place such importance on credit. I sometimes wonder whether money changes hands when a match occurs. The ladies all seem to believe it quite a coup to be the place or person bringing two single people together in a match.”
“The wealthier the gentleman, the higher the honor, surely,” said Edward.
The first set had ended, and through the doors, they could see couples drifting off the dance floor.
“Ah, the second dance is beginning soon. I am the partner of Miss Anne Franklyn. Not the most attractive nor graceful of partners, but her rumored dowry of two thousand more than makes up for it. Perhaps she has a lively wit. I’ll catch up with you later, gentlemen.
” He left the balcony to go inside and claim his partner.
“Are you dancing yet?” Simon asked.
“I have the third set with Miss Graham, which I eagerly anticipate. If I recall, she is light as a feather on her feet.”
“I am promised for the third to Miss Bonet. She is all grace and beauty. Pity she has no fortune.”
The two moved toward the large double doors and stood just inside, watching the partners line up for the second set. Robert caught a brief smile from Miss Graham before she turned her attention to her partner, an older army officer. No competition there, he felt sure.
After a moment, Robert put his plan into action. “Tell me, Simon, you enjoy a spot of snuff now and then, as I recall?”
“Oh, yes, there are some marvelous tobacco grinders in town. Do you partake?”
“I indulge but rarely. However, I was recently gifted with a very exclusive brand of snuff from my brother, which I have yet to try. I brought it with me tonight.” He patted his vest pocket, which held the snuff he had lifted that afternoon from his friend Henry’s home.
“Have you any interest, I should be happy to share some with you.”
He saw Simon’s eyes light up. “Indeed, I appreciate the offer—most generous of you, Robert.” He held his fist out for his friend to deposit a dollop of snuff on it for him.
Robert shook his head. “This snuff was quite expensive so I would rather not bring it out just yet. Should others of our acquaintance see it, the tin will be emptied entirely just tonight. Ah—I know. Sometime after the third set come meet me down in the Nelsons’ garden.
It will be darker there, and no one need see us enjoy ourselves.
As you know, some of the ladies do not approve of snuff or those who use it. ”
“Very well, Robert, that sounds like an excellent plan. I shall meet you after the third set.” Simon nodded genially.
“I suppose I should wander a bit and greet old friends before I take to the floor with Miss Graham. See you later, Simon.” Robert gave his friend a pat on the back and strolled off, satisfied that the second element of his plan had fallen neatly into place.
*
The third set brought another smile to Robert’s face for it was to be a Scottish Reel—one of the more rambunctious dances.
Good. All the dancers would be hot and perspiring when they were done, a perfect excuse to escort Miss Graham outside to cool off.
The dance also provided less ability to speak to one’s partner, which was fine by Robert.
Longing looks at his intended would suffice.
They took their places and waited for the music to begin.
As he recalled, Miss Graham proved light on her feet and a charming partner in every way. Was she looking at him with particular interest? It seemed that way to Robert. He hoped so, for her willingness to leave the ballroom still in his company was the next vital step to his success.
At last, the reel ended and Miss Graham pulled out her fan, using it vigorously. The orchestra announced a short break to retune their instruments. Perfect. Robert took his chance.
“Miss Graham, you seem in need of some fresh air. Since the music will not start for another few minutes, please allow me to escort you to the balcony outside, so that you may cool off a bit.” He laughed.
“I confess, I am also in need of a short dance break.” He held his arm out, and she took it, gazing adoringly up at him.
There were no other couples on the balcony, as most people seemed to be taking the break in dancing as an opportunity to enjoy some Negus or another drink in the refreshment room.
Robert had seen Simon head that way. Good.
He needed a few minutes to get Miss Graham down to the garden and in position before Simon arrived.
Robert and Phoebe stood together at the balustrade, gazing down onto the garden, where torch lights flickered, providing some, but not excessive light.
“You danced the reel quite well, Mr. Morton,” Phoebe said, turning to him. “Some men tend to become too violent in their behavior, and I often feel I am in danger of being twirled off the floor entirely.”
“I should hope I never have occasion to cause you harm, Miss Graham, even innocently in a dance,” Robert replied in as sincere a voice as he could. “You are so graceful in all your movements, it was a pleasure to stand up with you. May I hope you will now grant me that sixth set?”
She giggled, and he saw a slight blush rise in her cheeks. “Why, I believe I may do so, Mr. Morton. And may I say, your company is of the greatest pleasure to me tonight.”
“You are too kind. Tell me, have you been to the Nelsons’ before?”
“No, this is my first visit. I am overwhelmed by such elegance. Although town homes are nice, in truth, I prefer the country.” She paused and looked up at him, coyly. “I am led to believe your estate is quite lovely, Mr. Morton.”
“I should dearly enjoy any opportunity to show it to you. But, the Nelsons’ garden here, though small, is very nice.
They have the most interesting sculptures in the garden.
I should be…happy to take you to them.” He held his arm out and when she took it, he smoothly guided her to the staircase and down into the garden.
As he had hoped, it was shadowy enough that they might not be readily seen from above.
As for the sculptures? He truly had no idea whether there were any, but should Simon play his part, he would require just a short time to bluff.
He guided her under the balcony where, to his happy surprise, did stand a grouping of three statues. They were half-naked women—copies of Roman statues. Together, they walked up to examine them.
“Are they not lovely?” he asked, as he gently stroked her arm.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed, gazing upon them. “So beautiful.”
He pulled her around to him. “But, I cannot help but say they are not half so beautiful as you. My dear Miss Graham—I know we have not been in each other’s company very often, but you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and care for you.
Ever since our first encounter, you have been all I have thought of while I was away.
As I said, it is your society that has drawn me back to town and yours alone. Pray, tell me, have I any hope?”
“Oh, Mr. Morton,” she breathed. “I feel entirely the same, be assured of it.”
“My dear one…”
He bent his head down, and she tilted hers up, eagerly accepting his kiss.
Now, I just need Simon to show up. Hurry, Simon, before she realizes how compromising the position I am putting her in could be.
He continued to kiss her, pulling her close, feeling his ardor rise. He heard her moan softly, then pull her face away.
“Mr. Morton,” she gasped, “please. We should not be so indiscreet. What if we should be seen?” But, he could hear the words were rote and that she did not mean them.
He pulled her close again and whispered in her ear, “We are alone in the garden and hidden in the shadows, my dearest, do not worry. Oh, Phoebe, you are my every dream,” he murmured, daring to use her first name.
Kissing her again, his left arm held her pressed tightly against him while his right hand moved to cup her bosom.
After a moment, he deftly slipped it inside her dress, his thumb circling her nipple.
She stiffened in shock, but he held her too tightly to get away.
“Robert—my word,” a voice called.
Simon, you perfect fool. Bless you for your timing.
Phoebe gave a little shriek and broke away from Robert’s embrace, quickly rearranging her dress from its disarray. The three then stared at each other; Simon’s countenance registering sincere shock. Phoebe burst into tears, covering her face in shame.
“I am ruined. Oh, dear Lord—I am ruined,” she whispered and made a move to run away but Robert shot out an arm and stopped her.
“Nothing to fear, my dear,” he said softly.
“And, Simon, I know I can count on your discretion. Why, there is nothing untoward taking place here in the least. Miss Phoebe has just done me the greatest honor by accepting my offer to become my wife and the new mistress of Brentwood Manor. I know you will wish us joy. But, do keep it all a secret for now.”
“Uh, yes…indeed, I shall, Robert, and much joy to you, too, Miss Graham,” Simon stammered. “My sincere congratulations to you both. Now, if you will excuse me.” He bowed, then nearly ran out of the garden.
Robert turned to Phoebe and shrugged. “I do apologize, Miss Graham—Phoebe—for my display of affection. I was overwhelmed with your charm and beauty and quite let my ardor get out of control. But, you need only say you accept me and all is well. You need not fear any scandal.” He reached out and took her hands, smiling down on her tear-streaked face.
“Say you will marry me, my dear, dear Phoebe. I promise to devote my life to your happiness.”
Phoebe lowered her eyes, exhaled slowly, and nodded. “I have no choice but to accept. Despite your assurances of your friend’s discretion, I know far too well word will get out. Gossip is the currency of the Season. Therefore, I suppose we may consider ourselves…engaged, Mr. Morton. Robert.”
He pulled her close for another kiss, his hands roaming freely. She resisted just briefly, then she relaxed in his arms, and he heard a weak moan. Oh, she was so willing. He nearly pulled her down onto the grass right there to take her, but forced himself to stop and play the gentleman.
“My dearest, thank you for the honor of your acceptance. But, I confess I truly cannot wait weeks or months to call you my wife. Let us fly tonight, this minute, to Gretna Green,” he said, urgently.
“We can be there in no time, wed at once, and return man and wife. Will it not be a great and happy surprise to all? Then, any rumors that might come from a careless word from Simon will be of little consequence. Your reputation will be intact—for we shall simply say that we were so eager to marry that Gretna Green seemed the best choice.”
He studied her face, praying his argument had been more persuasive with her than it had been with Charlotte. To his enormous relief, she nodded.
“Yes, yes, I think it best.” She looked up at him adoringly, then pulled his face down to kiss him again, rubbing her body against his.
Saucy minx. This is even better than I hoped.
After a while, he gently disengaged and came up for air.
“Come, Phoebe. My carriage is just outside the garden gate.”