“My dear Kitty!” Lucy spoke before they’d halted; they were now all on first-name terms. “You must be quite thrilled with the turnout. Did you expect so many?”
Kitty took a moment to change mental tracks, then she smiled. “Indeed, it’s very gratifying.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t standing with your mama-in-law to greet them.”
Simon bit his lip, inwardly applauding Lucy’s gumption; her eyes remained wide, her expression innocent, yet she’d swiftly put Kitty in an uncomfortable spot.
Kitty’s smile turned brittle. “Lady Glossup doesn’t require me to assist her. Besides”-she turned her gaze on James-“this is the best moment in which to make one’s arrangements to be sure one enjoys the evening to the fullest.”
“I believe just that was in a certain gentleman’s mind.” Simon lied without compunction. “He was asking after you as we passed-dark-haired, someone up from town.”
“Oh?” Kitty was instantly diverted. “Did you recognize him?”
“Not to name.” Simon glanced at the area inside the doors, now filled with guests streaming in. “Can’t see him at present-perhaps you’d better circulate that way and see if you can come up with him.”
Kitty hesitated for only an instant, then smiled-intently-up at James. “You will save that waltz for me, won’t you?”
James’s face set like stone. “If we happen to be near at the time, and not otherwise engaged…” He shrugged. “There are many guests it’s our duty to entertain.”
Kitty’s eyes flashed; her lips pressed tight on an unwise rejoinder. With Lucy and Simon looking on, she was forced to incline her head. She looked at Simon. “Dark-haired, you said?”
He nodded. “Average height, good build. Good hands. Excellent tailor.”
That summed up the attributes one gentleman was likely to notice about another; Kitty swallowed the bait whole-with a brief nod, she left them.
James met Simon’s eyes; his relief was transparent.
Between them, Lucy brightly remarked, “I hadn’t realized you had so many neighbors in the district.” She glanced at James. “Perhaps we could stroll, and you would be good enough to introduce me?”
James hesitated for only an instant, then smiled and offered his arm. “If you wish, I would be honored.”
Simon was not surprised at the glance James, straightening, shot him over Lucy’s head. Another plea-this one not to leave him alone with Lucy. Swallowing his own urgency-Portia was unlikely to do anything rash, after all-he consented to stroll and chat, making them a threesome; he could sympathize with James’s desire not to encourage Lucy to imagine there was anything personal developing between them.
“Thank you.” James clapped him on the shoulder as the first dance commenced, and they stood watching Lucy whirl down the set with the young squire who had earnestly solicited her hand. “Now you can see why I was so keen to have you here.”
Simon humphed. “I wouldn’t worry overmuch about Lucy-she might be enthusiastic, but she knows where the lines are drawn. Kitty, however…” He glanced at James. “Do you intend remaining here after the houseguests have left?”
“Good God, no!” James shuddered. “I’m leaving in the same hour you are-I think I’ll go visit old Cromer. Northumberland ought to be far enough to outdistance even Kitty.”
Simon grinned and they parted. While socializing with James and Lucy, he’d surreptiously quartered the room and located Portia. She was presently standing along the opposite wall, near the French doors open to the terrace and the balmy evening outside. Charlie flanked her, along with an officer in dress uniform; both were fully engaged, attentive to the exclusion of all else about them, ignoring the glitter and swirl of the ball.
Understandable, for Portia was sparkling. Her dark eyes were alive, her hands gestured gracefully, her face was alight. Even from a distance, he felt the tug. Her attention was wholly given to whichever man was speaking with her; such devotion was guaranteed to fix-transfix-any healthy male.
In any other woman, he’d have labeled such behavior flirting, and been right, but Portia was, he was still prepared to swear, constitutionally incapable of that art. He circled the room, gauging his approach; his gaze on the three, he studied their faces, and doubted even Charlie and her latest conquest, whoever he was, mistook her behavior for the customary invitation.
It was something else. Just what, the mystery of what she was about, only lent her greater charm, made her attraction even more potent.
He was mere yards from her when a hand descended on his arm and gripped with surprising strength.
“There you are!” Lady Osbaldestone grinned evilly up at him. “You haven’t any sisters or cousins present, so you can’t be employed. Just come with me-there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“But-” He resisted her tug; she wanted to lead him away from Portia. The damn ball had been going an hour, and this was the closest he’d got.
Lady O glanced at his face, then around him-at Portia. “Portia? Pshaw!” She flicked her fingers. “No need for you to concern yourself there-and anyway, you don’t even like her.”
He opened his mouth to refute at least the former.
Lady O shook her head. “Not your problem if your friend Charlie supplies her with one too many glasses of champagne.”
“What?” He tried to turn and look.
Lady O held on to him with a viselike grip. “So what if she gets a mite tipsy? She’s old enough to know what’s what, and strong enough to hold her own. Do her good to have her eyes opened a trifle-silly chit’s twenty-four, after all.” Lady O snorted, and yanked. “Now come along. This way.”
She waved ahead with her cane; suppressing his welling panic, he conceded. The fastest way to freedom was to fall in with Lady O’s plans. At the first opportunity, he’d escape-and after that,
Portia saw Lady O lead Simon off, and inwardly sighed, whether with relief or disappointment she wasn’t sure. She didn’t want him hovering in his usual, arrogantly disapproving manner, yet that might not have been his intention. If the look in his eyes earlier was any guide, his attitude to her had changed, but to what she didn’t know, and hadn’t yet had a chance to divine. Regardless, she wanted to try out her new weapon on him. He was one of the three she’d elected to “consider,” and while she was doing quite well with Charlie and James, she’d yet to take a tilt at Simon.
Still, Charlie and Lieutenant Campion were interesting enough, and sufficiently susceptible to her wiles to count as practice.
She fixed her gaze on Lieutenant Campion’s face. “So you spend most of the year here in Dorset. Are the winters very cold?”
Campion beamed and replied. With little encouragement bar her rapt attention-her gaze fixed on his face, her mind cataloging all points of note he let fall-he was happy to divulge a great deal about himself, enough for her to guess his relative wealth, his family’s standing and properties, his enthusiasms both military and personal.
How very amenable gentlemen were, once one learned the knack. Comments made by her elder sisters regarding managing their husbands replayed in her mind.
Not that Lieutenant Campion would do for her; he lacked a certain something. Challenge, perhaps; she was quite sure she could wrap him about her little finger-curiously, that didn’t appeal.
Charlie, who had drifted away, returned, bearing yet another glass of champagne. He offered it with a flourish. “Here you are-you must be parched.”
She took the glass, thanked him, then sipped. The temperature in the ballroom was rising; the room was now crowded, the heat of bodies combining with the sultry heat of the night.
Charlie’s gaze had remained on her face. “That was an excellent set of plays at the Theatre Royale this last season-did you get a chance to see them?”
She smiled. “The first two, yes. The theater’s under new management, I heard.”
“Indeed.” Lieutenant Campion fixed Charlie with a steady gaze. “I understand…”
It occurred to Portia that Charlie had hoped to exclude the lieutenant with such a question; he hadn’t known Campion spent part of each Season on leave in town. Her lips twitched; the lieutenant continued, expounding at some length.
Charlie bore the reverse with grace, but seized the opportunity to solicit her hand the instant the musicians resumed playing.
