Chapter Five

T he ball was in full swing. Couples twirled and swayed about the dance floor. It wasn't simply those in attendance for the grand house party. Others had come from neighboring estates and even from London to attend. The number of eligible gentlemen abounded, surely a relief for all the young marriage-minded ladies in attendance. For herself, all Caroline wanted was to disappear. The way she'd run from the duke that afternoon—the humiliation of it was not something she would ever recover from. He must have thought her some sort of lunatic. That it had been immediately followed by Sir Percival's dishonorable proposition only added insult to injury.

"Smile, Caroline! Good heavens, you look more like you're attending a funeral than a ball," her aunt scolded. "Whatever is the matter with you?"

"Just a slight headache, Aunt. Perhaps I should retire for the evening."

Her aunt recoiled in horror. "Absolutely not. Ruby will need you here. And I need your eyes on Ruby because I cannot imagine what sort of trouble she'd get into without the both of us watching her. Naturally, the duchess has invited a high caliber of people, but men will be men—even gentlemen."

Of that, Caroline was completely certain. Across the ballroom, she caught sight of a shock of jet-black hair, nearly a head above everyone else. The duke. "Of course, Aunt. You are quite right. But I will go to the ladies' withdrawing room for a few moments. Perhaps a bit of quiet will help."

"Take Ruby with you. Ten minutes, Caroline, and no more. Ruby will hardly find a husband if she's closeted in a room where men are not even permitted," she snapped.

Caroline held her tongue, and the sharp retort that had immediately sprung to her lips was contained, but only barely. It left a bitter taste. The whole exchange was a familiar one. Every party, rout, ball, or assembly—they were all opportunities for Ruby to find a suitable husband. And not for the first time, Caroline wondered what her own fate would be should Ruby do just that. When her aunt had no need of her to serve as companion to her daughter, and if Ruby's as-yet unknown husband had no desire to have his wife's poor relations in the home, what would become of her?

Arm in arm, she and Ruby left the ballroom and headed to the ladies' withdrawing room. There were greater things to worry about than a naughty drawing or even Sir Percival's ham-fisted efforts to lure her to be his mistress. Her entire future was hanging in the balance. It had been for some time. She could simply no longer ignore it.

*

Antony scanned the ballroom once more, and finally, his gaze landed on his quarry. For once, it was not Miss Davies. No. It was Sir Percival. Antony had been following Miss Davies back to the house after encountering her near the maze when he'd glanced behind him to see Sir Percival exiting it—and looking quite perturbed.

His moment of indecision had rendered his quandary moot. The desire to continue in pursuit of Miss Davies and the desire to question Sir Percival had left him torn. In the end, he'd elected to follow Sir Percival, as he suspected the man to be the pest Miss Davies had spoken of. By the time he'd caught him to him, he'd been back in the company of the other guests on the south lawn, enjoying archery and other activities. Discussing Miss Davies with him in that setting would have been a disaster. Bandying her name about where it might be easily overheard would have drawn the wrong sort of attention to her.

So now, he found himself once more following behind Sir Percival to question him about what had transpired. That the man was so terribly short should have made it easier to catch up to him. But what he lacked in height was well compensated in pace. He was near the terrace doors before he finally caught up to him.

"Sir Percival, might I have a word with you in private? It's a rather sensitive matter," Antony explained.

The other man paled instantly. "Certainly, Your Grace."

Antony gestured toward the terrace. "Outside, if you please." He then stepped through the door, and Sir Percival followed. He didn't stop until they reached the far corner of the terrace, a spot where no one could lurk about to eavesdrop.

"Your Grace, what is it I can do for you?" the man asked.

"What transpired in the maze today with you and Miss Davies?"

Sir Percival's lips opened and closed rather like a landed fish as he sputtered. "I... well, it was not what... what did Miss Davies tell you?"

Antony recognized guilt when he saw it. "Miss Davies has said nothing about you. She did indicate that whatever had happened in the maze had been an irritation or annoyance. A nuisance, if you will. Did you make a nuisance of yourself, Sir Percival?"

The smaller man sighed heavily. Then he withdrew a cheroot from a silver case concealed inside his coat. "Would you care for one?"

"No, thank you. I only want an answer," Antony insisted.

"I did, Your Grace. I meant no harm to the lady. I offered her a... situation. A generous one. And she declined. I might have been too persistent in my offer upon her initial refusal."

"You asked her to be your mistress? A young, respectable, unmarried, and quite innocent young woman who is currently a guest under my roof—and you felt that was a prime opportunity to make your indecent proposal?"

"You need not take me to task, Your Grace. Miss Davies has put me quite firmly in my place for it. How did you know? You said Miss Davies had not told you!"

"I was attempting to have a private word with Miss Davies myself."

Sir Percival's eyes widened. "Oh. So you mean to proposition her yourself, then. I was poaching!"

"No, Sir Percival. I mean to propose. Not proposition. They are very different things, I assure you. One is the highest honor, while the other is only a degradation!"

"Propose? Your Grace, she's penniless!"

"I have no need of anyone else's wealth, I assure you." Antony was truly beginning to detest the little man. "Do not importune her again, Sir Percival, or you will face my wrath. Now, I must go and find her in order to demonstrate to her that not all men are of your... ilk."