all I do is shop and dance and talk and dance and talk and shop."
She appeared so wistful that Lord Robert might have patted her on the head and promised her a sweetmeat if he had not had to mind his steps. As it was, he found himself soberly expressing sympathy and wondering what he could do to relieve the poor child's boredom.
Being occupied elsewhere, Lord Robert did not observe bow his cousin closed in on his prey.
Lord Brandon remained at a distance, seemingly engaged in renewing old acquaintance. Nevertheless, there was not a moment he did not know precisely where one staid taupe gown was located.
Thus, the instant Mrs. Davenant and the Countess Eleven moved apart from their neighbours to talk, Lord Brandon began making his roundabout yet speedy way across the room. Bexley, he had noted, had wandered out of the ballroom talking earnestly with Count Eleven a quarter hour before. Lady Enders was gossiping with Lady Shum-way and a gawky girl with spots.
Lord Brandon was careful to come up on the widow from behind, allowing her no opportunity to withdraw gracefully. Then he greeted the countess and asked for an introduction.
Mrs. Davenant's slate-blue eyes turned to ice, but she could not, he knew, decline the honour without insulting the haughty Madame de Eleven. Given Bexley's political aspirations, this would be most unwise.
The widow did not decline. She even managed not to appear outraged, which he knew she must be. Lord Brandon pressed his advantage.
"Now that we have proper leave to know each other, I wonder if we might dance together," he said, his tones studiously polite. "Will you favour me with the waltz about to begin, Mrs. Davenant — if only to honour the delightful lady who first introduced it to Society at Almack's?"
The Countess Eleven acknowledged the compliment with a gracious nod. Mrs. Davenant's lips tightened.
"Thank you," she said stiffly, "but — "
"Ah, now we are in for a treat," said the countess. "We have never yet seen Lord Brandon waltz. I am afraid only our allies — perhaps our foes as well — have had that privilege. We shall at last see for ourselves whether he is as accomplished in this as in so much else."
The marquess raised an eyebrow.
"I referred to your skill in dancing, you teasing creature," she said with a faint smile. "But go. The music begins and my own partner approaches."
Followed by many curious eyes, Lord Brandon led his unwilling partner out. Not that Mrs. Davenant appeared unwilling. Her face was perfectly composed. He felt her tense, though, the instant his hand clasped her waist. He suspected she would have wriggled away if she might have done so with dignity. His grip was quite firm, however.
"You are displeased with me," he said. "I placed you in a difficult position. I am very sorry for it, but you left me no choice. I could hardly continue invisible forever. It is undignified."
"And to make a nuisance of yourself is not?" Her tones were cold, but the gloved hand in his was very warm.
"Once, perhaps, it might have been. But I have been a nuisance so many years now, it has become a part of my character. You may have noted that perseverance forms another part."
She did not respond.
"I believe it is accounted a virtue," he prodded.
"When properly applied," was the unencouraging reply. "Children are known to persevere in naughtiness. One wishes they applied the same industry to their lessons."
"If you were my tutor, I should listen very attentively. What would you teach me, Mrs. Davenant?" he asked, his tones softening.
"How absurd. You are long past teaching."
"No one is past teaching. Not if the lessons are pleasant ones."
"Mine should bore you to extinction. You must have heard them a hundred times in your boyhood. Given the results, I collect you had been asleep most of the time."
"Which is to say you mean to read me sermons."
"Yes, I am very dull."
"If you think so, it is you who want a lesson." He pressed her closer and drew her into a
She appeared so wistful that Lord Robert might have patted her on the head and promised her a sweetmeat if he had not had to mind his steps. As it was, he found himself soberly expressing sympathy and wondering what he could do to relieve the poor child's boredom.
Being occupied elsewhere, Lord Robert did not observe bow his cousin closed in on his prey.
Lord Brandon remained at a distance, seemingly engaged in renewing old acquaintance. Nevertheless, there was not a moment he did not know precisely where one staid taupe gown was located.
Thus, the instant Mrs. Davenant and the Countess Eleven moved apart from their neighbours to talk, Lord Brandon began making his roundabout yet speedy way across the room. Bexley, he had noted, had wandered out of the ballroom talking earnestly with Count Eleven a quarter hour before. Lady Enders was gossiping with Lady Shum-way and a gawky girl with spots.
Lord Brandon was careful to come up on the widow from behind, allowing her no opportunity to withdraw gracefully. Then he greeted the countess and asked for an introduction.
Mrs. Davenant's slate-blue eyes turned to ice, but she could not, he knew, decline the honour without insulting the haughty Madame de Eleven. Given Bexley's political aspirations, this would be most unwise.
The widow did not decline. She even managed not to appear outraged, which he knew she must be. Lord Brandon pressed his advantage.
"Now that we have proper leave to know each other, I wonder if we might dance together," he said, his tones studiously polite. "Will you favour me with the waltz about to begin, Mrs. Davenant — if only to honour the delightful lady who first introduced it to Society at Almack's?"
The Countess Eleven acknowledged the compliment with a gracious nod. Mrs. Davenant's lips tightened.
"Thank you," she said stiffly, "but — "
"Ah, now we are in for a treat," said the countess. "We have never yet seen Lord Brandon waltz. I am afraid only our allies — perhaps our foes as well — have had that privilege. We shall at last see for ourselves whether he is as accomplished in this as in so much else."
The marquess raised an eyebrow.
"I referred to your skill in dancing, you teasing creature," she said with a faint smile. "But go. The music begins and my own partner approaches."
Followed by many curious eyes, Lord Brandon led his unwilling partner out. Not that Mrs. Davenant appeared unwilling. Her face was perfectly composed. He felt her tense, though, the instant his hand clasped her waist. He suspected she would have wriggled away if she might have done so with dignity. His grip was quite firm, however.
"You are displeased with me," he said. "I placed you in a difficult position. I am very sorry for it, but you left me no choice. I could hardly continue invisible forever. It is undignified."
"And to make a nuisance of yourself is not?" Her tones were cold, but the gloved hand in his was very warm.
"Once, perhaps, it might have been. But I have been a nuisance so many years now, it has become a part of my character. You may have noted that perseverance forms another part."
She did not respond.
"I believe it is accounted a virtue," he prodded.
"When properly applied," was the unencouraging reply. "Children are known to persevere in naughtiness. One wishes they applied the same industry to their lessons."
"If you were my tutor, I should listen very attentively. What would you teach me, Mrs. Davenant?" he asked, his tones softening.
"How absurd. You are long past teaching."
"No one is past teaching. Not if the lessons are pleasant ones."
"Mine should bore you to extinction. You must have heard them a hundred times in your boyhood. Given the results, I collect you had been asleep most of the time."
"Which is to say you mean to read me sermons."
"Yes, I am very dull."
"If you think so, it is you who want a lesson." He pressed her closer and drew her into a
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