"I should be delighted to dance with you," she told him with a wider, more determined smile. "Let me just dispose of these reticules, and I shall return posthaste."
TWENTY-TWO
WHEN THE ELEGANT supper was all but finished and the majority of the guests had forsaken the dining room to resume dancing, Rachael moved to an empty chair beside Alexandra's. "Are your feet thanking you for sitting?"
Alexandra drained the final sip of the half glass of wine she'd allowed herself. "I've danced with so many men, my feet are numb now."
"How fortunate."
"How about yours?"
"I've danced with my share of your guests, but you had a three-hour headstart. Mine still hurt." Rachael reached to touch Alexandra's cameo. "This is very pretty."
It wasn't nearly as pretty as the diamond necklace that graced Rachael's neck, Alexandra thought, or the glittering jewels that adorned the other ladies. But she'd wanted to wear it tonight. "Tris sent it to me from Jamaica."
"You used to wear it all the time, didn't you? I remember it now." Rachael's smile was a little too understanding for Alexandra's comfort. "Have your numb feet led you to a future husband?"
"Not yet. Have your aching feet led you to anyone special?"
"Alas, they haven't."
"Alexandra!" Juliana hurried into the room, followed by Corinna. "Griffin is looking for you. Several more men have requested introductions." She turned to Rachael. "Have you danced with Griffin yet?"
"I'm not a whit interested in dancing with Griffin. But I will say he's managed to bring together an impressive array of eligible men for your sister's consideration." Rachael's eyes twinkled as they shifted to Alexandra. "You don't mind sharing with the few other ladies here, I'm hoping?"
Alexandra laughed. "No, I don't mind. I need only one for myself."
And that one, she feared, was outside tinkering in a lumber room.
"Griffin hasn't found time to dance at all," Corinna said.
"That's a pity." Rachael leaned forward and pulled off her poppy red shoes. "My feet are killing me."
Juliana frowned. "You should go into the ladies' retiring room to do that. A Lady of Distinction wouldn't approve."
"A lady of what?" Rachael asked, rubbing one of her stockinged feet.
"The author of The Mirror of the Graces. Griffin gave us all copies so we can learn manners that will win us husbands."
"I've never heard of that book." Rachael switched to massage her other foot. "But if a man won't take me the way I am, I expect I wouldn't want him anyway."
"Rachael would spit on A Lady of Distinction," Corinna informed her sister with some relish.
Figuring she'd better go find Griffin, Alexandra groaned as she got to her feet.
"Not numb anymore?" Holding her shoes in one hand, Rachael rose with an exaggerated wince. "I'd best see what Claire and Elizabeth are up to," she said as they all moved toward the door. "I don't think they ate three bites between them; they couldn't wait to get back to the dancing."
Griffin spotted the four of them the minute they entered the great hall. "There you are," he said, leading a handsome, dark man toward his oldest sister. "Alexandra, this is Lord Shipworth."
As Alexandra made the appropriate responses and went off with the prospective suitor, Rachael tried to sidestep away. Juliana caught her by the arm. "Rachael thinks it's a pity you haven't found any time to dance," she told Griffin. "She wishes to rectify that situation."
"I don't—" Rachael started before catching herself. Although the last thing she wanted was to dance with her cousin, refusing to his face would be dreadfully rude. "I don't…want to put on my shoes."
"Then don't," Juliana said gaily, taking the red slippers from her limp fingers. "Just dance in your stockinged feet. You've never feared scandal before."
"I damn well have."
"Such language only proves my point. Ah, a waltz." Grinning, she grabbed Rachael's hand and put it right into Griffin's. "Enjoy yourselves, will you?"
"I'm not very good at this," Griffin muttered as he guided Rachael onto the dance floor and took a few tentative steps. "I learned to waltz only this week."
He was certainly holding her awkwardly. And at arm's length, as though he could hardly bear to touch her. But at least he wasn't trodding on her stockinged toes. "You're doing very well for a beginner," she assured him. "Especially considering you didn't want to dance with me."
The pink flush that crept up his neck clashed with his green eyes. "I never said that."
"Liar." She laughed. "I'd wager you told Juliana you're not a whit interested in dancing with me."
A crooked half smile curved his lips. "I said nothing about a whit."
"Well, I did. I told her I wasn't a whit interested in dancing with you, but it seems she completely ignored us both."
"That was a brave confession." The smile turned full-blown now, revealing creases in his cheeks that matched the slight dent in his chin. "I promise not to hold it against you."
"Do you expect I would care if you did?"
"Not at all. That's what I love about you. In a strictly platonic way, of course," he rushed to add.
"Of course," she echoed pleasantly. Now that he'd relaxed, he was proving a much better dancer than he'd given himself credit for. He held her a little closer. He smelled of spicy soap.
It was really too bad he was her cousin.
"Juliana deserves to be beaten," he said.
"You won't do it," she returned confidently.
"You're right. I'm an excessively ineffective father. And I never dreamed I'd be a matchmaking mama."
"A mama?" she echoed with a laugh. A more masculine man she'd never met. "That sounds more like a nightmare than a dream." She smiled as they twirled around the room, noting all the women were on the dance floor while many extra men waited around the edges. "Given that you're a beginner at matchmaking as
