Chapter Thirteen
The Ball Commences
When they finally made their way through the crowded doorway, Lord Richard escorted his mother to a seat. It flanked a small dais at the top of the room, where five very elegant ladies sat overlooking the ballroom with a proprietary air.
“Those are the patronesses of Almack’s,” Valentina whispered.
“There is Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, whom we met in the park. Next to her is Lady Jersey, a particular friend of Mama, and Countess Lieven. At the end, Lady Cowper and Princess Esterhazy. Once Mama is settled, we must make our curtsy. Richard will perform the introductions.”
Lady Amelia went over and greeted their hostesses. It was obvious they were on close terms, and she conversed for a few minutes with each one before sitting in the chair procured by her son and drawing a silk fan to wave gently back and forth.
The earl bowed to the patronesses and presented Valentina, charmingly flushed and radiant in her pale-pink gown. “Ladies, I believe you are acquainted with my sister, Miss Valentina Merrick.”
“My dear Miss Merrick, you grow lovelier each day.” Lady Jersey smiled warmly.
“Thank you, Lady Jersey.” Valentina dropped into a low curtsy.
“I agree, Sally. Your sister is a diamond of the first water, Lord Seldon,” the woman of middle age with a rather sharp nose conceded. “But we are all eager to meet your new ward, Lord Seldon. Pray bring her forward.”
He indicated Fiona, who approached the platform. She was glad she wore the satin gloves, for she feared her palms were sweating.
“Countess Lieven, may I introduce Miss Fiona Rafferty of Dublin, Ireland.” Fiona sank into a curtsy and rose to find five sets of eyes on her, lively with curiosity.
“It is so kind of you to invite me. Back in Dublin, I heard people speak of Almack’s and wondered if I might ever see it.
And now I’m actually here; everyone I’ve met in London has been most welcoming.
” That was a lie, but a small one. She didn’t know if she would apply that term to Mrs. Davenport. Was she here tonight?
“It’s time we had a fresh face in our close-knit circle, isn’t it, Princess?” Lady Cowper was rather plump, but her ice-blue brocade gown fit beautifully. The haughty-looking young woman on the other end nodded in agreement.
“Certainly,” she replied with a slight accent. German, Fiona guessed.
“Go and enjoy yourselves,” Mrs. Drummond-Burrell suggested. “You have our permission to waltz, Miss Rafferty. I am sure there will be a line of eager young men waiting to dance.”
Lord Richard bowed again and escorted them back to Lady Amelia, who was engaged in animated conversation with Denys Spencer. He smiled over her head as she approached.
“Well, what did you think of our judge and jury, Miss Rafferty?”
“I think I can admit, now that it’s over, just how nervous I was,” she confessed.
“You did beautifully.” A quick frown crossed Valentina’s face. “Here comes Sir William Denton, and he will very likely ask me to dance.”
“Valentina…” her brother warned.
“Oh, very well,” she pouted.
Sir William’s well-cut evening clothes suited his tall figure; he stood out from the crowd in a rather conservative cravat, moderate shirt points, and an elegant but subdued waistcoat.
Surprisingly, once greetings were exchanged, Sir William turned from Valentina. “Will you do me the honor of the first dance, Miss Rafferty?”
“As a matter of fact,” Lord Richard said, “Miss Rafferty has promised her first dance to me. I fear you will have to wait, Sir William.”
She looked back and forth between the two gentlemen, at a loss for words.
The orchestra began a light tune, and Lord Richard offered his arm.
Sir William bowed graciously. She had little choice but to put her hand on the earl’s sleeve and allow him to lead her to the floor.
Glancing back, Fiona caught a glimpse of Sir William’s chagrin and Valentina’s uncharacteristically peevish expression.
“It is a quadrille,” he murmured, as they took their places across from each other. “Do you remember the steps?”
“I remember I gave you no such promise for the first dance,” she said coldly. “Your presumption is astounding, Lord Richard.”
“Come now, Fiona,” he coaxed, a faint smile playing about his chiseled lips. “Wouldn’t you rather make your debut on the dance floor with your instructor instead of a stranger?”
“I suppose so,” she muttered ungraciously. The music began and he bowed. She gave the expected curtsy in return and placed her palm to his.
They circled and moved through the center of their set of couples, executing a promenade and changing partners.
When they reconnected, the earl gave a slight nod of approval, and her annoyance slowly melted away as he led her through the movements.
She relaxed and enjoyed herself, focusing on the steps.
She thought she executed the movements tolerably and even managed a smile for her counter partners.
When the last notes of the music ended, Richard escorted her back to his family. Valentina and Denys Spencer arrived shortly after, and Lady Amelia smiled proudly as a dozen men lined up for dances with Valentina. Several others hovered nearby, looking uncertainly at Fiona.
“Take out your dance card, Fiona,” Lady Amelia whispered.
As she removed it from her reticule, Richard held out his hand.
She could scarcely refuse him in front of the onlookers and gave him the paper and a small pencil.
He scrawled his name in several places and returned the items. Noting the line of waiting gentlemen, he gave her a wry smile and went over to join Denys, who had wandered beyond the small crowd.
She glanced down and saw he had claimed both waltzes and the last space on her card. By the time her line of partners disbanded, her card was full except for a few lines she had crossed out, as Valentina suggested.
*
Richard surveyed the crowded room with Denys as they stood in an alcove overlooking the dance floor. The spectacularly penniless Lord Southard had managed to capture his ward for the second dance. She had accepted the Marquis of Fellingham for the third, no doubt to annoy him.
“Well, you have certainly escorted the two loveliest ladies in the room, my friend. Miss Rafferty may not be the usual fashion, but she is stunning nonetheless.”
“They both have engaged to drive me insane,” he answered grimly. “Valentina refused to settle on Sir William Denton, and now Miss Rafferty has taken it into her head to encourage the gentleman. She delights in opposing every request I make.”
“If I know you, they were demands instead of requests. Recollect how you might handle a headstrong filly, Richard. Not by bringing her harshly to bit; your skills warrant a patient approach. Why wouldn’t Sir William be an excellent match for Fiona?
He is eminently eligible and they are a striking couple. ”
“He wouldn’t suit her,” Richard growled.
“And you may call her Miss Rafferty.” He preferred Fiona marry some old man who would hide her in the country where he didn’t have to watch her flirting with William Denton.
Damnation, was he getting a headache? The familiar tightness banded the back of his neck and the excess of candlelight suddenly seemed too bright.
“I hope I may ask Valentina for the first waltz?”
“You might as well…since she won’t entertain anyone I suggest.” Denys grinned and Richard cast a speculative look at his friend.
“Have you aspirations in that quarter, Denys? I have noticed a certain interest from time to time that has given me pause.”
He reddened slightly. “Valentina sees me as a childhood friend, something like a brother. There is scarcely a possibility of more.”
“That does not answer my question.”
“No,” he said with a smile, “it does not. I see Mrs. Fairweather approaching determinedly with her daughter in tow; one of us is in her sights. I shall take the initiative and ask the girl to dance, lisp and all. You are in my debt, Richard.”
Denys walked resolutely toward a hatchet-faced woman wearing an imposing puce turban.
Richard reflected on their conversation. Would he consider his closest friend as a suitor for Valentina? She had never given any indication of romantic interest in him, which was just as well, because Denys Spencer was not the match Richard hoped to achieve for her.
*
Fiona danced twice more with men she could scarcely remember; both were tedious companions, offering extravagant compliments and vacuous speeches.
She had decided to sit out the country dance, which she was still slow and unsure of.
She found an empty chair and scanned the room, spotting Valentina sipping lemonade with a titian-haired young man.
Lord Richard emerged from the crowd, crossing the room. Her heart skittered. Well, why wouldn’t it? He was the most interesting and attractive man here. After the pallid encounters she had endured in the last hour, she craved his company.
He reached her side and offered his hand. “Come, Fiona, let us take our places for the waltz.”
She took a deep breath and placed her gloved hand on his arm as he led her to the dance floor.
Her heart was pounding so loudly she thought the entire room must hear.
He put his left arm around her waist and raised his right, palm open.
Fiona matched it, and his fingers closed around hers.
She was mere inches from him as they waited for the dance to begin.
“Courage, Fiona. Lift your chin and look at me. You are the most dazzling woman in the room tonight.”
“Oh, no, Richard. I’m sure your sister claims that title.”
“Ah…Richard sounds much better than Lord Richard. Valentina is beautiful, but you are breaking hearts tonight.”
“You’re unusually free with your compliments. Are you flirting with me? To distract me, perhaps? I confess, my heart is pounding.”
“Just relax and trust me.” The music began, and he spun her into the crowd.