His brows rose.
“I’ll make some excuse.”
“Thank you,” he crisply said. Then he leaned over and kissed her as though in apology. “Forgive me. I’m impatient.”
“I could say I’m grading papers-but I can’t stay long. My normal routine is quite fixed.”
“I’ll have to make it worth our while, then,” he said with a grin. “Although, I warn you, I won’t be content with these rushed occasions for long. So begin making plans,” he said with the casual prerogative of his titled position. “Now here we go, darling,” he went on as though the matter was settled. He opened the door. “We’re on stage.
Chapter Nine
They stepped into the refreshment room where tables were arranged with ices and cold cuts, with champagne and sweets, with two chefs presiding over gargantuan sides of beef and warm collations for those guests wanting heartier fare.
Threading their way through an array of small tables set up for dining, Ormond made for the entrance to the ballroom while Claire nervously scanned the crowds that now filled both rooms.
“Courage, darling,” Ormond murmured as they approached the ballroom, patting her hand that rested on his arm. “We are about to run the gauntlet unscathed.”
Conscious of numerous examining looks directed at them, Claire said, “I see that. Apparently you
He glanced at her sideways. “You didn’t believe me?”
“I certainly do now.”
He smiled. “Then consider how well protected you are with me.”
“
“How safe you are,” he quickly amended as they entered the ballroom. “Don’t look now, but Harriet is being dragged off the dance floor by your aunt.” He smiled. “I wonder if she’s being snatched from the arms of a man considered less suitable than-”
“You?” Claire chuckled. “You understand, don’t you, that you are the central figure in Auntie’s marriage strategy.”
“In that case, I shall speak to Seego posthaste.”
“That seems rather callous.”
“And your aunt isn’t?”
Claire grimaced. “This is all becoming much too complicated.”
“Leave it to me, dear.”
At the moment, she was inclined to do just that. She didn’t relish a fight with her aunt whose plan to add Ormond to their family would not be easily derailed. “Just remember, Harriet must be happy,” she said, taking the path of least resistance in what was turning out to be a French bedroom farce.
“Yes, dear.”
She shot him a look. “I mean it.” His tone had been much too suave.
“She will be happy, I assure you.” This time he took care to speak with unequivocal sincerity.
She frowned faintly. “How can you be sure?”
He dipped his head and smiled. “You don’t know how focused I can be.”
“Perhaps I do,” she said, offering him a fleeting grin.
His dark brows flickered in teasing reply. “As you say. So consider me Harriet’s new, highly motivated matchmaker. I guarantee everyone will be happy soon. You, me, your aunt, and the potential bride. Ah, do I detect more than a modicum of trouble?” he murmured as they approached Claire’s glowering relatives.
Harriet was sitting rigidly in her chair, visibly displeased: her bottom lip stuck out in a pout; her jaw set; her sky blue eyes rife with storm clouds. Mrs. Bellingham was in equal high dudgeon, having been forced to abandon her winning hand of cards twice because of Harriet’s behavior, the last time on spying her niece in the arms of an old roue who everyone knew didn’t have two guineas to his name.
She’d said as much to Harriet in no uncertain terms as she’d hauled her away, ordering her for the second time that evening to save her flirtations for Ormond. He had more money than God and was so near to proposing, they could practically send out wedding invitations.
She had ordered Claire to be fetched after she’d warned off Lord Halston. And now she had had to do it again with Buccleuch. When one was winning a goodly sum at whist, one did not have time constantly to monitor a niece. A point Mrs. Bellingham made clear the moment Ormond and Claire reached her.
“You cannot go off and leave your sister unattended,” she snapped. “I was required to forsake Lady Strand in order to rescue Harriet from men old enough to be her grandfather. In future, Claire, kindly do your duty.”
“I fear I was to blame, Mrs. Bellingham,” Ormond smoothly interposed, his voice mild even as he took issue with Mrs. Bellingham’s rudeness to Claire. “I wished to show Miss Russell Harville’s extraordinary collection of maps.”
“Forgive me, Lord Ormond,” Mrs. Bellingham replied, conscious of the viscount’s cool gaze. “I fear I’m overwrought. A young girl’s reputation is so important and Lords Halston and Buccleuch, well-” she shook her head in disgust. “Everyone knows what they are like. In any event,” she went on, patting Harriet’s hand as it lay on the chair arm beside her, “dear Harriet understands the importance of an unsullied reputation now-don’t you, dear.” She glanced at her niece.
“I was just dancing,” Harriet muttered, mutinously.
“Just dancing!” Mrs. Bellingham rolled her eyes. “Claire, you must stay by your sister’s side-do you understand? And I do hope, Lord Ormond, that you will overlook Harriet’s youthful naivete. The firm hand of a husband will do her a world of good, I don’t doubt,” she said without subtlety. Rising from her chair, she shook out the Brussels lace ruffles on her skirt before turning an irritable gaze on Claire. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing to the chair she’d just vacated. “And do not desert your sister again. I shall be at cards for some time.”
“Very well,” Claire replied, in measured tones, restraining her temper with effort.
“We shall both see that Harriet is enjoying herself, Mrs. Bellingham,” Ormond offered, when he would have preferred giving Mrs. Bellingham the set-down she so richly deserved. Claire merited better treatment than that of a servant. That he felt impelled to care for her was an unprecedented response.
As Mrs. Bellingham rushed off to her card game, Harriet said, “Sorry, Cleery, to take you away from your maps. There was no crisis as you well know. Both Halston and Buccleuch are old and harmless.”
Ormond repressed a smile, Harriet’s assessment eminently accurate.
“And I don’t suppose you want to dance with me anyway,” Harriet went on, looking at Ormond. “Everyone but Auntie knows you detest dancing.”
“I fear you’re right. But perhaps we could find you a suitable partner. There’s no reason you should not dance when any number of men would appreciate your company.”
Harriet’s expression brightened. “My thoughts exactly. I love to dance above all things. Cleery, you keep Ormond company while I have fun.”
She spoke with such artlessness, Claire shot a look at Ormond to see if he took affront.
He gave her a quick wink before turning back to Harriet. “Allow me to find you a partner. Then your sister and I shall discuss maps while you dance.”
“You are ever so pleasant, Ormond. Did I not say as much, Cleery?”
“Yes, indeed you did. We both appreciate your gallantry, my lord,” Claire said, smiling up at him.
With heated memory still vivid in his mind, it took a certain degree of self-control to keep from spiriting away the lovely Claire on the spot, gossip be damned. Not that he could actually be so selfish and ruin her reputation. “Allow me to cultivate your good wishes further, ladies,” he said with gentlemanly good grace and, lifting his hand casually, he waved Seego forward. The young marquis had been hovering nearby-as had several other of Harriet’s suitors. “Miss Harriet desires to dance,” the viscount noted. “Kindly do us all a favor and oblige her.”
