refuse now—not to mention impolite.
It was a waltz and that meant she would have to speak to him throughout the dance. That may be a problem.
“So Oldbeck is getting a leg shackle, is he?”
“Yes, he is.”
Dansworth began to sweep her expertly around the floor. He was, like most gentlemen of the ton , an excellent dancer.
“He is not… how shall I say it… the marrying type?”
“Because he’s an imbecile?”
“Now, I never said that, Harry.”
“That is Lady Harriet to you. And you did not have to say it, my lord. I know what everyone is thinking.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do, as it happens, for I would be thinking the same thing.”
“Is she marrying him for the money?”
“No. Believe it or not, it is a love match.”
“A love match?”
“Yes. They happen. Do you think my brother would marry for anything less?” They stopped talking as Dansworth navigated them through a crush of bodies. When they eventually reached something approximating fresh air again, Dansworth spoke.
“Probably not. But will she be happy with someone like Oldbeck?”
“She is like Oldbeck. She has difficulty with words and numbers and understanding too.”
His lips formed an ‘o’ shape.
“But what about children? Will they not be like their parents?”
“There is no telling. They think that the reason William has problems is because my mother had difficulties birthing him. She nearly died. Why Miss Callahan is the way she is, one cannot tell. She has no parents to ask. But James, we are old friends, please, I beg you, do not gossip about this. There shall be enough gossip and, whereas I do not care so much for I have given up all hope of marriage and care not for the good graces of the Beau Monde , I do fear for William who shall have to come to town frequently. Lord Stephen Charville is helping him, but this is a cruel world. You know this.”
Dansworth smiled kindly and squeezed her hand gently.
“Do not concern yourself, Harry. I shall not breathe a word to anyone. Not even my mistress.”
“Oh you are such a rake.”
“Indeed. Ah this dance is over and it is with sadness but with a little relief that I return you to Charville’s side because he looks like he wants to call me out and I do not think I could beat him in a duel. I am told he is a sharp shooter with a pistol. I do believe the fellow is jealous.”
“Jealous? Oh, I do not believe so.”
****
When Lady Harriet arrived back at Stephen’s side, Dansworth bowed and took his leave. She was flushed and smiling. He did not like it one little bit. He had watched her conversing amicably with Dansworth as they waltzed. The man was a known rake.
His hand had been a little too low on Lady Harriet’s back to be appropriate. Then he had looked up and grinned at Stephen as if baiting him. Little did Dansworth realise that Stephen was not the slightest bit interested in Lady Harriet. Oh she was beautiful, clever, witty, intelligent, adorable and was filling out her ball gown exquisitely. But he was sworn off marriage altogether.
Harriet was looking around the ballroom, an anxious expression on her face.
“Lord Stephen, where are my brother and his betrothed?”
“Over at the punch bowl.” Stephen had sent them over a couple of minutes earlier to stop William prattling about how great it all was and how many candles there must be in the chandeliers. It had not been well done of him but he’d been so annoyed by the proprietorial way Dansworth had been holding his Harriet.
She stood on tiptoe to see the refreshments table.
“No, they are not. They are not there, my lord.” Her voice was higher than normal—slightly panicked.
Stephen turned, noted too they were not there then did a quick scan of the room.
“Devil take it. Come with me.” He caught Harriet by the elbow. A young man and his lady. There was only one place he would take her and that was the balcony. He only had to hope they got there before a scandal occurred. William
It was a waltz and that meant she would have to speak to him throughout the dance. That may be a problem.
“So Oldbeck is getting a leg shackle, is he?”
“Yes, he is.”
Dansworth began to sweep her expertly around the floor. He was, like most gentlemen of the ton , an excellent dancer.
“He is not… how shall I say it… the marrying type?”
“Because he’s an imbecile?”
“Now, I never said that, Harry.”
“That is Lady Harriet to you. And you did not have to say it, my lord. I know what everyone is thinking.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do, as it happens, for I would be thinking the same thing.”
“Is she marrying him for the money?”
“No. Believe it or not, it is a love match.”
“A love match?”
“Yes. They happen. Do you think my brother would marry for anything less?” They stopped talking as Dansworth navigated them through a crush of bodies. When they eventually reached something approximating fresh air again, Dansworth spoke.
“Probably not. But will she be happy with someone like Oldbeck?”
“She is like Oldbeck. She has difficulty with words and numbers and understanding too.”
His lips formed an ‘o’ shape.
“But what about children? Will they not be like their parents?”
“There is no telling. They think that the reason William has problems is because my mother had difficulties birthing him. She nearly died. Why Miss Callahan is the way she is, one cannot tell. She has no parents to ask. But James, we are old friends, please, I beg you, do not gossip about this. There shall be enough gossip and, whereas I do not care so much for I have given up all hope of marriage and care not for the good graces of the Beau Monde , I do fear for William who shall have to come to town frequently. Lord Stephen Charville is helping him, but this is a cruel world. You know this.”
Dansworth smiled kindly and squeezed her hand gently.
“Do not concern yourself, Harry. I shall not breathe a word to anyone. Not even my mistress.”
“Oh you are such a rake.”
“Indeed. Ah this dance is over and it is with sadness but with a little relief that I return you to Charville’s side because he looks like he wants to call me out and I do not think I could beat him in a duel. I am told he is a sharp shooter with a pistol. I do believe the fellow is jealous.”
“Jealous? Oh, I do not believe so.”
****
When Lady Harriet arrived back at Stephen’s side, Dansworth bowed and took his leave. She was flushed and smiling. He did not like it one little bit. He had watched her conversing amicably with Dansworth as they waltzed. The man was a known rake.
His hand had been a little too low on Lady Harriet’s back to be appropriate. Then he had looked up and grinned at Stephen as if baiting him. Little did Dansworth realise that Stephen was not the slightest bit interested in Lady Harriet. Oh she was beautiful, clever, witty, intelligent, adorable and was filling out her ball gown exquisitely. But he was sworn off marriage altogether.
Harriet was looking around the ballroom, an anxious expression on her face.
“Lord Stephen, where are my brother and his betrothed?”
“Over at the punch bowl.” Stephen had sent them over a couple of minutes earlier to stop William prattling about how great it all was and how many candles there must be in the chandeliers. It had not been well done of him but he’d been so annoyed by the proprietorial way Dansworth had been holding his Harriet.
She stood on tiptoe to see the refreshments table.
“No, they are not. They are not there, my lord.” Her voice was higher than normal—slightly panicked.
Stephen turned, noted too they were not there then did a quick scan of the room.
“Devil take it. Come with me.” He caught Harriet by the elbow. A young man and his lady. There was only one place he would take her and that was the balcony. He only had to hope they got there before a scandal occurred. William
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