Chapter 12

Lady Camden's elegant ballroom was crowded, however that was only to be expected this early in the Season. At least there was sufficient room to breathe, although not much. Kate stood pressed against Celinda on one side and Nathan on the other, searching the excited throng for Lord Haversham. After their spirited exchange this afternoon, she found herself actually looking forward to seeing him tonight—and even more surprisingly eager to pay her forfeit and dance the waltz with him.

Kate had chosen one of her favorite gowns this evening, the cornflower blue muslin, shot through with silver and trimmed in the same sparkling color. Gold tones might have highlighted her hair better, but this particular shade of blue did something to the color of her eyes that made people take notice. At least that was what Celinda had told her. Why she'd chosen this gown, when she had no more hope of Lord Finley than the man in the moon, she wasn't quite sure. Or if she did have an inkling, she didn't want to think about it. Not yet anyway. She still had serious reservations about Lord Haversham's character, even though she'd mentally deleted two of the items on her list. He still had the first five to make amends for, if such a thing could be done. Which reminded her to speak to Nathan about that list. Turning to her brother, Kate caught sight of Lord Haversham, Lady George, and Lady Letitia entering the ballroom.

Immediately, she straightened her back, trying to make herself look taller and ensure that her gown fell in the perfect folds of a Grecian statue. Raising her chin, she smiled, trying to catch Lord Haversham's eye. One never knew but that the orchestra might play a waltz to begin the first set.

Lord Haversham, however, was settling his sister onto a section of wall—not a corner, thank goodness—and speaking with his aunt. Then he darted across the ballroom floor, but not toward her.

Disappointment sent an arrow darting into her chest, but she really must not read too much into Lord Haversham's attentions this afternoon. She'd helped him with suggestions for his sister's shyness, but the gentleman owed her nothing save some thanks, which he'd already given her. And an extremely amusing afternoon. Kate had to admit she'd not had so much fun in quite a while. Well, she'd never said Haversham was a stick in the mud.

"Good evening, Miss Locke."

Kate jumped and whirled around to find Lord Haversham grinning. "Good evening, my lord, although having the devil scared out of one is hardly the definition of a ‘good evening.'"

"Did I startle you, Miss Locke? My most abject apologies." He placed his hand over his heart and bowed, though he kept his mirthful gaze on her. "I did, however, wish to bring your attention to a little drama about to take place across the ballroom there." He nodded to the wall where his sister and aunt stood conversing, as usual.

"There is drama to be had in such a normal conversation, my lord?" Kate raised an eyebrow. "I did not know your life was so…unexceptional."

"The drama is about to begin, Miss Locke." He nodded again to Lady Letitia, except now a young gentleman had joined the conversation. "I just suggested to Mr. Symmons that my sister might be agreeable if he asked her for the first dance."

"Bertie Symmons?" Of all the young gentlemen present, why would Haversham choose him to lead lady Letitia out?

"I know the gentleman, who is definitely not a scoundrel."

"No, Bertie may be many things, but he's definitely not that." Kate had to admit her old friend was every bit as honorable as Haversham.

"And what is more, Letitia knows him from some garden party last year." He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear, "Look."

Holding her breath, Kate watched rapt as Bertie approached Lady Letitia, making his usual awkward bow then launching into a conversation regarding Heaven knew what. But whatever topic Bertie had decided to lead off with, the lady smiled and nodded, seeming almost to hang on his every word.

Wide-eyed, Kate turned to Lord Haversham. "Do you think—"

Haversham simply nodded toward his sister, and Kate returned her gaze to the couple to find Lady Letitia now on Bertie's arm as he led her to the dance floor. "I have you to thank, Miss Locke, for this little miracle." Lord Haversham grasped her hand and kissed the gloved knuckles.

A tingle, charged like the air during a lightning storm, ran up her arm, making her heart race unaccountably. What an odd thing to have happened. For once, Kate was struck speechless.

"Is…is this first dance a waltz?" Kate asked at last, unexpectedly hoping his next words would claim her for his partner.

"You should know better than that, Miss Locke." He gave her a skeptical look tinged with humor. "While I encouraged Letitia to dance, and am delighted she has chosen to do so, I hope you do not think me so remiss I would allow her to waltz around the room in the arms of Mr. Symmons?"

Kate bit her cheek to keep from smiling. That would give Haversham too much satisfaction. Of course, he had a point about Bertie. Waltzing wasn't her old friend's strong suit, by any means. Lady Letitia deserved an excellent partner for her first performance of that most exquisite dance. "Perhaps I take your point on that, my lord."

"At last, the lady sees sense!" Haversham broke out in a huge grin as the orchestra began to tune up. It sounded like it was to be a country dance set.

She was promised to him for the first waltz, but that didn't mean they couldn't dance this one as well. Looking up at Haversham, she smiled and waited for him to ask for the dance.

To her consternation, however, he scanned the room until his gaze came to rest on a not-so-young lady standing with her mother, looking about eagerly. The lady's gown was not the first stare of fashion, although it was serviceable enough. Her hair was plainly dressed, with flowers rather than jewels, but it became her well. Haversham continued to gaze at her, until curiosity got the better of her. "Do you know her, my lord?" She nodded toward the lady in question.

"Miss Anne Bartholomew. We were introduced last year." He still hadn't taken his eyes off the lady.

"So this is her second Season?"

"Her third. She has not found favor with the young gentlemen this year. Which is a pity as she is quite charming." He hesitated, peering intently at Miss Bartholomew as a gentleman approached her.

The lady's face lit up, her smile eager, but the gentleman who seemed to be making for her continued past her toward a somewhat younger blond lady.

Lord Haversham's lips thinned into a straight line. "Her fortune is meager, alas, which has likely hampered her chances at a decent match." The musicians continued their preparatory squawks and squeals. He sighed. "If you will excuse me, Miss Locke? I am called to rescue another wallflower, but I will return to claim my waltz and the supper dance, if it is still available?"

"Yes, it is, my lord." Kate gazed at him, seeing him anew. He was about to do a kindness to Miss Bartholomew, to keep her from the embarrassment of having no partner in a room full of dancing couples. Much as he'd done for her the other night. Was that Haversham's personal mission then, to engage those ladies who might not be the most popular in the ton ?

In light of this revelation, she didn't even care that he'd left her to be a wallflower for this first set. Miss Bartholomew needed him more than she did. Besides, he'd already asked her for two dances. Kate followed his progress across the ballroom to the lady whose whole countenance seemed to glow as he approached.

"Good evening, Miss Locke."

Kate jumped. She really must pay more attention to who was sneaking up on her. Turning, she smiled and curtsied to Lord Montrose. "Good evening, my lord."

"Would you care to dance this first set with me?" Montrose was a bit older than most of the gentlemen on the hunt this Season and not as attractive. Still, if he would do her the kindness of asking her to dance when no one else would, she certainly wouldn't turn him down.

"I would love to, my lord." The smile Kate sent him as she took his arm was as genuine as could be. Kindness came from the most unexpected places and should not be taken for granted.

****

"Did you enjoy your set with Lord Montrose?" Lord Haversham asked as they spun about the room to the strains of the promised waltz.

"I did, rather. He's a nice gentleman, although there is an air of sadness about him." Kate sighed with contentment, perfectly willing to allow Haversham to take command of the dance and weave them in and around the other couples on the ballroom floor.

"Such a pity about his wife. She died in childbirth, she and the child. He's been grief-stricken ever since." Haversham's face had become grave. "They were very devoted to one another."

"I'd heard that. So horrible for him." Kate inadvertently gripped his hand tighter. "That he misses her terribly, even after all this time."

"We must all carry on despite our grief." Haversham's tone held a hint of melancholy.

Kate peered into his face, which suddenly seemed more careworn. But of course, his father had died not long ago. Nathan had told her Haversham had been devastated to lose him at such a young age. She'd not been very sympathetic toward the earl then, but now wondered if part of his acerbic wit was an attempt to mask his lingering grief. "We do indeed, my lord. It is the burden those left behind must bear."

"Oh dear, Miss Locke. I hope we are not descending into the maudlin." He spun them around so quickly Kate became quite dizzy. "To combat that disgraceful decline, let us do something to divert us, to divert the entire ton ."

"What might that be, my lord? I'd think a picnic in public where you pelted me with grapes would be diverting enough for anyone." Still, the fun of that mock battle had Kate looking forward to any further diversion Haversham might suggest.

"I think we should dance a country dance after supper." His eyes twinkled at her.

"Lord Haversham!" Again, Kate's heart took off racing in her chest. "Is this your misguided way of proposing to me?" Everyone knew that dancing more than two dances with one gentleman was tantamount to an engagement.

"Heaven forbid, Miss Locke." His voice carried his normal teasing tone, but something more serious lurked in the back of his eyes. "I merely wish to see if anyone is paying attention to us."

"If they haven't been, they certainly would then. Lady Morris can count to three if no one else can." That lady's gossiping nature had been the cause of at least three ton marriages that would never have occurred had the woman's keen eyes not spied a minor impropriety. "I am afraid you will have to be satisfied with two waltzes and supper this evening, my lord." She peered up at him, suddenly alert. Had people begun to take notice of their recent amity? And how would she feel about it if they had?