skin and the gold in her brown hair. Truly she was like a wildflower, all the more lovely for bravely growing where one least expected it.
Miss Elizabeth Bethingame, meanwhile, was horrified. She was still furious over Carleton’s behaviour, of course, but she was also mortified at her own. She kept repeating to herself all the awful things she had said about him and his family—and he was actually in front of her! How dare he?
“Miss Bethingame,” Carleton started, only to be met with that same “How dare you?” so he dispensed with the courtesies, drew a chair up and seated himself. The dowager in purple sniffed and muttered something about unmannerly young people until she was quelled by a look from the Marquis and turned away.
“Miss Bethingame, please listen to me. My actions were deplorable, I know. I also know you would not have spoken to me if you knew the truth, so what was I to do?”
“You might have stopped me from saying those things about you!”
“Why? They were true, mostly, except that I like this ball as little as you do. Please believe me, I would not have made such a spectacle of myself!”
She looked at him closely, positive his smooth insincerity would show. Instead, all she noticed were how blue his eyes were, how strong his chin, which did nothing to ease her mind, nor did his lopsided smile. Her lips twitched to return it, but she recalled her situation and firmed her shoulders resolutely.
“And now, sir, you are making a spectacle of me by sitting here!”
“Something else I must apologise for, though also not to my liking. You must admit I could not apologise for my first fault without committing this second! Besides, the damage is done and the music is starting, so may I have the pleasure of this dance?”
Miss Bethingame had already noticed the orchestra beginning after the dinner intermission, a waltz, to her dismay. “No thank you, my Lord, I do not care to waltz,” she said coldly.
Carleton was puzzled, for he thought he was resolving the library difficulty as gracefully as possible. He was also not used to being refused and did not care for what a fool he might seem to the company, so he spoke more bitingly than he might have.
“What, Miss Bethingame, growing missish? I did not think a mere waltz would daunt you, not after your previous behaviour, which must shock everyone in this room!” He sought to defeat her feeble excuse and succeeded.
“My Lord Carleton, I would not dance with you if you were the only man here, waltz or not!” she answered just as angrily, her temper as short-fused as his, he was astonished to see. Most well-bred ladies were taught not to show their emotions and seldom did, except for weeping or swooning. He seriously doubted Miss Bethingame would do either. This reflection gave him time to gather his own self-control and realise further how unlike other women Miss Bethingame actually was.
“Well, then may I find you a partner for the dance?” he asked in an effort to regain a little favour. “At least then you might have the pleasure of the waltz, to save what must be a dismal evening for you.” He rose as if to leave, but a small hand reached for his sleeve.
“Please, my Lord, I ... I do not waltz,” she said in a barely audible voice, and, yes, Miss Bethingame was blushing.
“Do you mean you don’t know how?” asked Carleton bluntly, unbelievingly. This girl-woman could speak Greek and run an estate—yet she did not know how to waltz. Her tiny nod confirmed this and brought him an unexpected rush of relief that her refusal was for the dance, not him. This was quickly replaced by regret over his own words.
“I am sorry to have teased you, Miss Bethingame—Lord, I seem constantly to be apologising! I swear, I do not usually make such a muddle of things. Please, may I fetch you some champagne or lemonade? Perhaps something to eat, since you did not go to supper? No? Do you wish me to find your aunt so you may leave, for you
Miss Elizabeth Bethingame, meanwhile, was horrified. She was still furious over Carleton’s behaviour, of course, but she was also mortified at her own. She kept repeating to herself all the awful things she had said about him and his family—and he was actually in front of her! How dare he?
“Miss Bethingame,” Carleton started, only to be met with that same “How dare you?” so he dispensed with the courtesies, drew a chair up and seated himself. The dowager in purple sniffed and muttered something about unmannerly young people until she was quelled by a look from the Marquis and turned away.
“Miss Bethingame, please listen to me. My actions were deplorable, I know. I also know you would not have spoken to me if you knew the truth, so what was I to do?”
“You might have stopped me from saying those things about you!”
“Why? They were true, mostly, except that I like this ball as little as you do. Please believe me, I would not have made such a spectacle of myself!”
She looked at him closely, positive his smooth insincerity would show. Instead, all she noticed were how blue his eyes were, how strong his chin, which did nothing to ease her mind, nor did his lopsided smile. Her lips twitched to return it, but she recalled her situation and firmed her shoulders resolutely.
“And now, sir, you are making a spectacle of me by sitting here!”
“Something else I must apologise for, though also not to my liking. You must admit I could not apologise for my first fault without committing this second! Besides, the damage is done and the music is starting, so may I have the pleasure of this dance?”
Miss Bethingame had already noticed the orchestra beginning after the dinner intermission, a waltz, to her dismay. “No thank you, my Lord, I do not care to waltz,” she said coldly.
Carleton was puzzled, for he thought he was resolving the library difficulty as gracefully as possible. He was also not used to being refused and did not care for what a fool he might seem to the company, so he spoke more bitingly than he might have.
“What, Miss Bethingame, growing missish? I did not think a mere waltz would daunt you, not after your previous behaviour, which must shock everyone in this room!” He sought to defeat her feeble excuse and succeeded.
“My Lord Carleton, I would not dance with you if you were the only man here, waltz or not!” she answered just as angrily, her temper as short-fused as his, he was astonished to see. Most well-bred ladies were taught not to show their emotions and seldom did, except for weeping or swooning. He seriously doubted Miss Bethingame would do either. This reflection gave him time to gather his own self-control and realise further how unlike other women Miss Bethingame actually was.
“Well, then may I find you a partner for the dance?” he asked in an effort to regain a little favour. “At least then you might have the pleasure of the waltz, to save what must be a dismal evening for you.” He rose as if to leave, but a small hand reached for his sleeve.
“Please, my Lord, I ... I do not waltz,” she said in a barely audible voice, and, yes, Miss Bethingame was blushing.
“Do you mean you don’t know how?” asked Carleton bluntly, unbelievingly. This girl-woman could speak Greek and run an estate—yet she did not know how to waltz. Her tiny nod confirmed this and brought him an unexpected rush of relief that her refusal was for the dance, not him. This was quickly replaced by regret over his own words.
“I am sorry to have teased you, Miss Bethingame—Lord, I seem constantly to be apologising! I swear, I do not usually make such a muddle of things. Please, may I fetch you some champagne or lemonade? Perhaps something to eat, since you did not go to supper? No? Do you wish me to find your aunt so you may leave, for you
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