when you’d rather be bothered by Philip Montcalm,” replied Fiona, just a trifle tartly.
Caroline supposed there was reason for Fi to urge caution. Mr. Montcalm had the air and appearance of a wealthy man. The son of a marquis, even the second son, would still be considered a decent prize on the marriage market. If he remained unmarried, it was by choice.
If Caroline ever meant to marry, this realization and her friend’s warning would be things any intelligent woman must take seriously.
“Caro, have you heard a word I’ve said?” Fiona was asking.
“Every single one, I swear.” Caroline squeezed her friend’s hand. “But, Fi, from now on, I intend to live my own life and live it freely.” She met her friend’s worried gaze. “If your fiancé would rather you didn’t associate with me after tonight, Fi, I do understand.”
“James is nothing like so high in the instep,” said Fiona firmly. “Besides, if he ever even hinted that I must choose between you and him, we would have a serious discussion on the matter. A most serious discussion.”
Caroline sighed. Probably she should let it all go, not in the least because she risked causing Fi discomfort. Besides, if Mr. Montcalm had spoken to Mr. Banbridge, he would certainly not have heard anything complimentary. She could not imagine Lewis Banbridge taking kindly to a rival if he was planning on making his own advance.
All at once Caroline’s wilting resolve stiffened. Lewis Banbridge could do as he pleased. She was no one’s to claim, nor would she ever be again. It was Mr. Montcalm she wanted to meet, to speak with, and . . . more.
Fiona looked at her change of expression, and before Caroline could even speak, she rolled her eyes. “All right, Caro, if you’re that determined, and since you’ve so clearly got the man’s attention, at least accept a little sisterly advice as to your next move . . .”
Fi leaned close and whispered, and once again, Caroline listened carefully to every word.
Five
D espite Philip’s experience with overfilled ballrooms, making his way around to Mrs. Gladwell took time and, at one point, a discreet elbow in a viscount’s corseted ribs. At last, however, he was able to present himself to his hostess.
“Mrs. Gladwell.” Philip made sure to boldly meet her eyes and pitch his voice low, as if conveying some secret. “I have returned to beg a favor of you.”
“Goodness!” she cried happily and pressed her fan against her bosom. “What could the Lord of the Rakes possibly need from me?”
“I need you to procure me an introduction, madam, to Lady Caroline Delamarre.”
“Ah! So you’ve taken note of our new heiress as well, have you?” Philip kept his smile steady and gave the smallest of shrugs. “You know, I think the only reason any of the town beaux consented to be here was they’d heard Lady Caroline accepted my invitation.” Mrs. Gladwell gave a dramatic sigh of lamentation. “I’ve been positively besieged by men wishing to meet her. But, as it is
you,
Mr. Montcalm, I will do all I can.” Mrs. Gladwell craned her neck to try to see through the press of bodies that filled her rooms to overflowing. “Now, where has the lady gotten herself to?”
Philip also turned his attention to the crowd. The musicians had struck up a quadrille, and couples were forming up sets in the center of the room. There was, however, no sign of a stunning lady in amber silk. He could not see her on the dance floor, or in any of the room’s arched and pillared alcoves. Neither could he see her through the doorway that opened onto the supper room, or the cardroom, or the conservatory, or the smaller dancing room.
“How provoking, Mr. Montcalm! Lady Caroline has quite vanished.”
“Ah, well, that is my punishment for being inexcusably slow to make my bow.” Even though he spoke lightly, Philip found it difficult to cover his disappointment. He suddenly cursed his notion of talking with Banbridge. She
Caroline supposed there was reason for Fi to urge caution. Mr. Montcalm had the air and appearance of a wealthy man. The son of a marquis, even the second son, would still be considered a decent prize on the marriage market. If he remained unmarried, it was by choice.
If Caroline ever meant to marry, this realization and her friend’s warning would be things any intelligent woman must take seriously.
“Caro, have you heard a word I’ve said?” Fiona was asking.
“Every single one, I swear.” Caroline squeezed her friend’s hand. “But, Fi, from now on, I intend to live my own life and live it freely.” She met her friend’s worried gaze. “If your fiancé would rather you didn’t associate with me after tonight, Fi, I do understand.”
“James is nothing like so high in the instep,” said Fiona firmly. “Besides, if he ever even hinted that I must choose between you and him, we would have a serious discussion on the matter. A most serious discussion.”
Caroline sighed. Probably she should let it all go, not in the least because she risked causing Fi discomfort. Besides, if Mr. Montcalm had spoken to Mr. Banbridge, he would certainly not have heard anything complimentary. She could not imagine Lewis Banbridge taking kindly to a rival if he was planning on making his own advance.
All at once Caroline’s wilting resolve stiffened. Lewis Banbridge could do as he pleased. She was no one’s to claim, nor would she ever be again. It was Mr. Montcalm she wanted to meet, to speak with, and . . . more.
Fiona looked at her change of expression, and before Caroline could even speak, she rolled her eyes. “All right, Caro, if you’re that determined, and since you’ve so clearly got the man’s attention, at least accept a little sisterly advice as to your next move . . .”
Fi leaned close and whispered, and once again, Caroline listened carefully to every word.
Five
D espite Philip’s experience with overfilled ballrooms, making his way around to Mrs. Gladwell took time and, at one point, a discreet elbow in a viscount’s corseted ribs. At last, however, he was able to present himself to his hostess.
“Mrs. Gladwell.” Philip made sure to boldly meet her eyes and pitch his voice low, as if conveying some secret. “I have returned to beg a favor of you.”
“Goodness!” she cried happily and pressed her fan against her bosom. “What could the Lord of the Rakes possibly need from me?”
“I need you to procure me an introduction, madam, to Lady Caroline Delamarre.”
“Ah! So you’ve taken note of our new heiress as well, have you?” Philip kept his smile steady and gave the smallest of shrugs. “You know, I think the only reason any of the town beaux consented to be here was they’d heard Lady Caroline accepted my invitation.” Mrs. Gladwell gave a dramatic sigh of lamentation. “I’ve been positively besieged by men wishing to meet her. But, as it is
you,
Mr. Montcalm, I will do all I can.” Mrs. Gladwell craned her neck to try to see through the press of bodies that filled her rooms to overflowing. “Now, where has the lady gotten herself to?”
Philip also turned his attention to the crowd. The musicians had struck up a quadrille, and couples were forming up sets in the center of the room. There was, however, no sign of a stunning lady in amber silk. He could not see her on the dance floor, or in any of the room’s arched and pillared alcoves. Neither could he see her through the doorway that opened onto the supper room, or the cardroom, or the conservatory, or the smaller dancing room.
“How provoking, Mr. Montcalm! Lady Caroline has quite vanished.”
“Ah, well, that is my punishment for being inexcusably slow to make my bow.” Even though he spoke lightly, Philip found it difficult to cover his disappointment. He suddenly cursed his notion of talking with Banbridge. She
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