Charity by Deneane Clark Page B

Earl of Endlecourt, making his way toward them, an inviting smile on his handsome face.
    “Excellent advice, Aunt Cleo. I shall dance with the very next gentleman who asks.”
    With Lachlan Kimball’s mocking grin and her aunt’s words prominent in her mind, she turned a bright, dazzling smile on the approaching young man. She waited while he requested an introduction from the Earl of Huntwick, then curtsied gracefully and accepted his invitation to dance. The couple glided off to the dance floor just as Lachlan was returning with Amity.
    Amity smiled in her sister’s direction. “Who is that dancing with Charity?”
    “Anthony Iverson,” Grace replied in a distracted voice. She looked troubled, and turned to Aunt Cleo. “Wasn’t there some rumor last Season about Iverson and someone’s wife?”
    Cleo furrowed her brow. “A duel, if I recall correctly,” she mused, then lifted her cane to point it accusingly in Trevor’s direction. “Why in the world did you introduce Charity to that blackguard?”
    Trevor eyed the end of her ebony walking aid with understandable trepidation, having been its target on more than one occasion. “I know his father. Good man,” he replied. “Don’t you think ‘blackguard’ is a trifle harsh for someone you only think ‘may have been involved in something or other with someone’s wife’?”
    Grace ignored that bit of logic and glared at him. “How could you not know better than to send my sister off to dance with someone of questionable reputation?”
    Trevor snorted. “In the first place, finding anyone with an unblemished reputation in Society verges on the impossible. In the second place, it is entirely likely that I missed large chunks of gossip from last Season, since I spent the bulk of it trying to keep you from interfering in Gareth and Faith’s marriage.”
    Grace colored and looked a bit sheepish. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it now,” she said, “except to wait for their dance to end.” She watched the couple glide around the floor with anxious eyes. If Charity’s bright eyes and animated face was any indication, she was enjoying the dance very much indeed.
    Lachlan listened to the exchange for a moment, but his eyes weren’t on the dancing couple like everyone else’s. Instead, they swept the crowd that ringed the dance floor. Women were nudging one another and whispering, some with obvious malice. It had not escaped his notice during his dance with Amity that the young ladies in attendance had a less than favorable opinion of the twins. And while he knew it was largely due to jealousy because of the matchestheir older sisters had made, he also knew that something had to be done to distract the crowd, and quickly. The only way he could think to accomplish that was to give them something else to watch and discuss.
    He turned to the eldest member of the group. “Lady Egerton?”
    Cleo didn’t even spare him a glance. “Not now, young man.”
    Lachlan almost smiled at her impatient dismissal. “Oh, but I really feel as though this cannot wait.”
    She gave him an irritated look. “What is it?”
    “Well,” he began, and sketched her a gallant little bow, “I hoped you might honor me with a dance.” He straightened and sent her a speaking look, his eyes willing her to accept.
    Surprised, Grace glanced away from Charity and her partner. “Aunt Cleo doesn’t dance!”
    At that, Cleo snorted. “I most certainly do!” She thrust her cane at Trevor, who took it from her with a wide grin.
    “Yes, Grace,” he said solemnly. “She most certainly does.”
    Lachlan hid a smile at the old lady’s indignation. He extended an arm, which she took more firmly than he would have imagined possible, and then walked along beside him with surprising agility. Lachlan had to shorten his strides only a little, and he found himself wondering at the actual depth of her need for the cane.
    When they reached the dance floor, she turned to face