Everybody!” Their hosts stood in front of a dais where a string quartet waited to play. Sir Toby Herbert raised both hands, allowing cascades of lace to fall back from his wrists. “A debacle is about to happen.”
Lady Herbert opened her eyes wide and clapped her hands in mock horror. “We shall be the failure of the Season.”
Titters circulated in the small, elegant ballroom at Rose Place in Berkley Square.
Fleur, wearing the brilliant orange-gold evening dress Dominic had requested of Mrs. Neville, did her best to sink behind an exotic, broad-leafed plant in a Chinese pot. Dominic caught her eye and frowned. She nodded politely, even if the effort did cost her a good deal. This had been a day filled with his demands and his stalking about to check security at Heatherly. Fortunately they had not spoken alone since the previous night.
“You see,” Sir Toby said. “It appears that our world-renowned baritone, Monsieur Vilepain, is dissatisfied with the accompanists we provided—even though they are the King’s favorites—and he chooses to leave us.”
A man who could only be the singer emerged from behind Chinese screens artfully used to create the back of the dais. Swathed in a dark, floor-length greatcoat with a fur cape, he swept forward and from the dais, parting a path through the guests as he went. He flipped back an unruly bob of oily black hair and avoided settling his dark eyes on anyone in particular.
At the doors to the handsomely oversize music room, he paused and waved with the hand in which he held his hat. “Au revoir,” he said. “I shall shed tears to have missed my opportunity to thrill you, but the best can only perform with the best.”
He glided from the room and Fleur said, “Poof,” much louder than she had intended.
Lady Granville laughed and said, “Poof,” just as loud and soon there were dozens of “poofs” circling the room.
“You were lucky that time,” Dominic said from behind Fleur. She hadn’t noticed when he moved. “Next time you may be left standing alone in a silent room with only your foolishness to keep you company. Why aren’t you wearing the necklace my mother sent to you for this evening?”
Fleur touched her mother’s pin on a band of black velvet. “For my first outing I wanted to wear this to remind me of Mama.”
“This is a business venture, not an occasion for sentimentality. The diamonds and sapphires would have been so much better.”
“And may all your hopes turn to worms,” she said, stepping away.
“A terrifying curse,” he murmured. His hand, firmly gripping her waist, brought her back. “Be quiet. Our hosts are dealing with a difficult situation.”
“Quite. Try to reign in your nasty tongue.”
“The chairs will be moved,” Lady Herbert said. “And we shall pass the evening in dance and conversation.”
Wonderful, Fleur thought. She faced the inevitable—that she would have to dance and make small talk with gentlemen approved by Dominic.
“And champagne and strawberries will be along,” Sir Toby said, beaming at his guests. “Perhaps chocolate, too. I’m sure we all know how to get along without dance cards.”
Another chuckle followed and a number of servants cleared rows of chairs to the sides of a dance floor.
The music struck up and couples took their places for a quadrille. Gussy Arbuthnot, fetching in mauve taffeta, craned her neck all about. Fleur felt awkward for her since she made it obvious that she searched for a partner.
Fleur looked sideways at Dominic. Then she checked to see how many female eyes were upon him. Just as she’d thought—almost all of them, and some of the younger misses huddled together to sigh over him and Lord Nathan. The girls watched for any promising moves they might make toward them. Dominic made no moves. He appeared as still as a statue and his autocratic features turned Fleur’s heart. This man was deeply thoughtful and it showed.
A cheer went up and cries of, “Hurrah, hurrah.” The host and hostess took to the floor, the myriad colors in Lady Herbert’s gauze gown shimmering.
Fleur turned toward Dominic.
He had left. Just like that. She searched the room but didn’t see him.
A tall, thin man with a rather supercilious air approached. He bowed to Fleur and said, “Fritz Mergatroyd, your ladyship,” to Hattie. “We met at the Soamses’ last year.”
Hattie said, “I remember. Good evening,” but didn’t sound enthusiastic.
“May I have this dance with your charge?” Mr. Mergatroyd asked and Fleur turned cold with apprehension.
“Um…” Hattie turned about, looking for Dominic, Fleur assumed. When she didn’t see him she inclined her head and said, “Take great care of her.”
Fleur spent an unpleasant time with Mr. Mergatroyd, who leered down the front of her dress and repeatedly mopped his face with a large handkerchief.
“The Mergatroyds are an old family,” he said, and gave a snort that turned into a braying laugh. “Very old. And much admired for our reputation as purveyors of fine merchandise for more than three generations.”
He wrapped his fingers in hers, pulled her toward him, and trod on her toes. To which he said, “Ouch,” quite loudly.
“How interesting,” she said, trying not to wince. “What sort of merchandise?”
Mergatroyd made an airy gesture with the hand from which the damp handkerchief trailed. “All manner. Far too many to list. We are particularly well-known for our potted meats. Mergatroyd’s Meat Pots are in every home.”
Fleur had never heard of the stuff. When the music stopped she made a determined move to return to Hattie and Mr. Mergatroyd went willingly enough. “May I call on you at Heatherly House?” he asked.
“Well—”
“Oh, do say I may or I shall be destroyed.”
She looked up into his moist face and said, “I can’t have that. By all means, call.” Please don’t, oh, please don’t.
The man gave another of his horsey laughs.
As soon as Fleur returned Lady Granville stood close to her and said, “You’ve earned your first medal. Now, shall we sit down with those ladies over there and I’ll introduce you. They don’t approve of me, of course, but they’re rather sweet.”
“Why don’t they approve of you?” Fleur asked, shocked.
“Because I don’t have a pedigree.” She dimpled at Fleur. “However, they are in awe of John so they hide their disdain well.”
“We don’t want to sit with them,” Fleur said. “How dare they consider themselves better than you.”
“They aren’t better,” Lady Granville said. “And I don’t care what they think.”
Fleur smiled and thought how right Snowdrop was in her opinion of her mistress.
They moved toward a gilt table where three ladies sat, their heads close together. When Lady Granville and Fleur approached the ladies stopped talking and their heads appeared to draw back into their necks but they gushed over Lady Granville and smiled suspiciously at Fleur.
“Hattie.” Dominic arrived with another man in tow. “Do you recall Franklin Best? We were all at his parents’ Surry home for a house party last autumn.”
“I certainly do. How are you, Franklin?”
The pleasantries disposed of, Dominic made a formal introduction of Fleur to Franklin Best, a good-looking man in his late twenties or so with thick blond hair.
“Franklin’s in his father’s banking business,” Dominic said and Lady Granville murmured, “I remember. Your father spoke highly of you.”
“Fathers tend to see the best in their offspring,” Franklin said, grinning. “To be honest, my hope is to become a barrister. Money is the most boring thing in the world.”
Fleur laughed. “I suppose it might be if one had any,” she said.
Dominic’s face lost all expression but Hattie put an arm around Fleur and squeezed her. “You, my dear one, have what money can’t buy—a loyal heart.”
“Excuse us,” Gussy said, much louder than necessary. “Nathan and I are going to dance.”
The two of them went onto the floor and Gussy looked so happy she trembled.
“With Lord Dominic’s approval, Miss Toogood?” Franklin Best offered his hand and Fleur stared at it. Seconds passed and Franklin said, “Will you dance with me?”
Lady Granville gave Fleur a little push and she placed a hand on Franklin’s wrist.
She liked him, Fleur decided. There was little doubt that the man had lots of money and, thanks to her careless mouth, knew she had none, but he made no secret of his pleasure in dancing with her.
They moved in and out of the intricate formations and bowed. Fleur blessed her mother for being the accomplished dancer she was and for teaching all of her girls to acquit themselves well. Fleur had always had the most flair but that was, she thought, because she enjoyed dancing so.
She caught the eye of a gentleman opposite and to the left. A big man, but solid, with no fat on him, and a tanned complexion that spoke to hours spent outside. He inclined his head at Fleur, bowed slightly, but kept his eyes on hers. She had to look away.
She and Franklin touched hands and reversed positions. The music could not have been more beautiful and she felt as if she moved in a dream, as if all this was a dream. They revolved again and as they passed, Franklin said quietly, “You are lovely, Miss Toogood.”
Fleur glowed but she was sure the result must be a red face—and that he said the same thing to every female he danced with. Again she was opposite the man with a too familiar look in his dark brown eyes. He smiled at her and bowed again, keeping his face always turned so that he could see her. Thick fair hair curled over the top of his collar and when he smiled, deep dimples formed beside his mouth.
“You seem far away,” Franklin said.
“This is my first outing in London,” Fleur told him. “I’m a country parson’s daughter and quite green, I suppose. Look at this room, at the colors and the grace. And the bloodlines. I’m overwhelmed.”
He stared back at her and his smile fell away. “It all pales beside you.” The moment before they swung around and moved on to another partner, he squeezed her hand tightly and stroked the backs of her fingers with his thumb.
Fleur’s heart beat very fast. She knew nothing of all this. The village dances were gatherings of old friends and the young people had danced together since they were children. Very little art went into their exuberant exchanges.
A small pause to face a new partner and the patterns began again. The man with fair curly hair and brown eyes stood across from her and she had no doubt that he would recognize her if they met again. He studied her from head to foot and his broad chest expanded by the time he met her eyes again.
She had seen him somewhere before.
They inclined their heads and swept toward one another. “You must be Miss Fleur Toogood,” he said, stepping away, turning, and stepping back. “The Dowager Marchioness of Granville’s charge. You will set London on its ear, my dear.”
She didn’t know how to respond.
“I am Noel DeBeaufort. My parents’ prodigal son. They have never recovered from my decision to study the great landscape artists and try to follow in their footsteps.”
The man she’d seen Dominic speak to in the grounds at Heatherly. “You are doing some designing for Lady Granville,” she said. “I saw you there.”
He bent his head then smiled at her. “This is true.”
Noel held her hand and around they went. “Let’s leave the dance,” he said. “It’s hellish hot. Have you tried champagne?”
Fleur shook her head. He seemed so worldly—and so sure of himself.
“Come then,” he said, taking her hand.
As smoothly as if she’d only imagined it, Dominic stepped into the formation. He nodded at her partner, said something brief and took his place. She did blush then, and glance sideways to find curious faces watching her.
They came together and Dominic touched her hand. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes, thank you. I didn’t think taking another dancer’s place was—”
“It is now. That man is a good enough fellow but unconventional. And too worldly. He has a reputation with the women.”
Fleur wished she could die on the spot. Dominic had spoken too loudly and everyone looked at her and whispered, and shook their heads. “He was just part of the dance,” she told Dominic. “Why make such a fuss?”
“No fuss,” he said. “Your imagination is too active. The gold is as perfect on you as I expected it to be. Perhaps cut too low, and a little tight in the bodice, though.”
Fleur stood still and a lady bumped into her. Immediately, Dominic crossed smoothly to her side, apologized to the lady and walked Fleur from the floor.
“How dare you?” Fleur said almost under her breath. “You interfered with Neville when she was fitting the striped dress. She did as you told her with that one, then with this, and now you mortify me in public. I should like to go home.”
“Grow up. Apparently my task will not be a task at all, apart from weeding out the wolves. In this room, there are too many interested and eligible men to count. They see the obvious. You are peerless. You and I shall have a long talk. There’s no possibility that your experiences up until now can have readied you for this jaded world—or have they?”
She didn’t know how to answer. Taking a deep, deep breath, Fleur let the air out slowly, working to calm herself. Finding Dominic looking directly down the front of her bodice ruined her efforts. “Lord Nathan is such a good-humored man,” she said, determined to match the task she faced. “I think Gussy likes him. She smiles at him a great deal. I think they make a nice couple, don’t you?”
“Mmm?”
“Lord Nathan and Gussy make—”
“I suppose they do. I saw you with Mergatroyd. The man’s a boor.”
“Perhaps.”
He smiled at her. “What did you think of young Best?”
“He’s charming and easy to be with. Not that I was with him long.”
“Would you like to be?” He looked over the heads of those closest to him.
Fleur pressed a hand into her stomach. “I have no idea. How can I meet someone for a few minutes and know if I would enjoy them again?”
“Would you enjoy spending more time with the other man?”
“Other man?” She frowned up at him.
“DeBeaufort. The ladies find him irresistible. Must be all that outdoors ruggedness.”
She knew who he meant but she said, “Which man is that?”
Dominic turned up one corner of his mouth. “That man. The one who made you fluttery. Noel, whom we already discussed in some detail as unsuitable. He isn’t bashful in setting commissions for his work but he isn’t retained often enough. There’s talk that he lives mostly on an allowance from his father who intends to cut him off altogether if he doesn’t join the family concerns. I shouldn’t imagine he needs to research exotic lovemaking.”
“That was despicable,” she said.
He said, “Yes, it was. Forget I said it. Come, let’s rejoin Hattie.”
Grateful, Fleur placed a hand on the back of his forearm and hurried along to keep up with his strides. “Why doesn’t she dance? Lady Granville, that is? You can see all the attention she gets.”
Dominic looked sharply toward his sister-in-law who didn’t seem happy in her conversation. “Hattie doesn’t care to dance with anyone but John. Or Nathan and me in situations like this.”
“You have a heavy burden,” she said, hiding a smile. “So many females to protect.”
“Hah,” he said. And that was all he said.
“Do people have many of these things?” she asked. “When Lady Granville took me shopping for white slippers—did you know colored slippers are going out of fashion? No, no, perhaps you wouldn’t. When we were in Bond Street there were so many ladies buying hats and ribbons and all manner of things. And they all talked about exciting events they were going to. Or they thought them exciting.”
“You don’t usually chatter so.”
She didn’t bother to hide her next smile. “Come now, Dominic. At least admit this is new and exciting to someone like me. Don’t be a curmudgeon.”
He rolled his eyes. “In answer to your first question, yes, they do have many of these things. There are things every day and every night and knowing Mama, you have invitations to all of them.”
She couldn’t help but say, “Then so do you. See, you have many wonderful things to look forward to and it’s all because of me. Now I think of it, why waste time? We should be looking for a wife for you, too. What kind of wife should you like, do you think?”
Dominic bent over her and made a soft, growling noise close to her ear. Startled, Fleur could only stare at him—before she giggled and executed a little jig. “Oh, they’re playing a waltz.” Fascinated, she turned toward the floor as couples swung into the risque dance.
Dominic’s hand stole farther around her waist and held on too tight. “Not a suitable thing for newly acquainted couples.”
“Lord Dominic?” Franklin Best stood before them. “May I have this dance with Miss Toogood?”
Fleur gave Dominic a poke in the back and he actually grinned at her. “Yes,” he said. “But I am entrusting her to your care.”
Franklin swallowed and said, “I understand and you can trust me, my lord.”
“Oh, phooey,” Fleur said, as soon as they were on the floor. “He thinks he has to behave like my father.”
“Most fathers are far more eager to have their daughters dance with eligible men. Lord Dominic stays so close to you that most men are afraid to approach. One might wonder—” Franklin stopped and turned bright red. “I’m sorry, Miss Toogood.”
“Call me Fleur. And don’t be sorry because I think it’s funny.”
He took her in his arms and she found her legs didn’t want to move at all.
“Are you all right, Fleur?” he said. “I’ve never danced a waltz,” she told him. “Aren’t I a silly?”
His smile showed his delight in her. “You are a wonderful dancer. Let me lead you and in no time you will feel as if you’ve been waltzing forever.”
Around and around, they swung. Franklin’s very straight back remained so and he held her carefully, maintaining a small distance between them.
Fleur raised her face and laughed. Whirling, whirling, they went and Franklin’s laughter joined hers.
He stopped dancing abruptly and Fleur blinked at Dominic who stood at her partner’s shoulder. Dominic gave an irresistible grin and said, “She can’t be out all night, old chap. You’ll have to share if you don’t mind.” Franklin muttered something and did his best to hide his disappointment as he walked away.
Dominic placed a large hand at her waist, took hold of her hand and away they went, swaying, revolving, as Fleur had with Franklin, but with a different kind of energy. Dominic’s thighs met her body with each turn; they guided her. Her own legs shook, and so did her tummy.
“You’ve waltzed before,” he said. “And you’re very good.”
“I’ve waltzed with Franklin Best. I was waltzing with Franklin Best when you took his place.”
“Such proximity with a man shouldn’t be for too long.” He angled his head and studied her face. “Are you sorry I took Franklin’s place? I can always get him back.”
These were clever games she had never played but, as she’d often been told, she learned things quickly and she would learn the rules of this thinly veiled seductive charade.
Dominic’s hand moved across the back of her waist and his arm held her close. She dared not look to right or left for fear of seeing disapproval on every side.
Her body pressed to his. Fleur looked down, and saw her breasts, all but naked in the tight bodice, crushed to Dominic’s chest. Twisting, burning heat darted into her private places. Her breathing grew short. When she raised her chin again, Dominic looked at her eyes, her mouth, with his eyes narrowed and his firm lips curved in a possessive smile.
“Every male eye in the room is on you,” he said. “There isn’t a man present who doesn’t want to be where I am. You are luminous.”
“Excuse me.” Nathan plucked Fleur’s hand from Dominic’s. “My turn, I believe, little brother.”
Dominic released her at once and Nathan swept her away. He smiled, his teeth very white in a tanned face. Those green eyes glittered, but with fun Fleur, thought. How different the brothers were. She turned her head to look for Dominic but he’d disappeared. Noel DeBeaufort hadn’t. The rigid lines of his face, the way he stared at her, turned her heart. But then Nathan swung her the opposite way and she caught the eyes of a heavy, richly dressed man whose small, moist mouth pushed out while he popped food in from a plate held by a flunky.
“Good…heavens,” Nathan said, guiding Fleur rapidly out of sight of the older man. “The Prince Regent himself. Who would have expected him at the Herberts’?” He pulled her a little closer.
“Spare a few moments for a poor man,” Noel DeBeaufort said, stepping beside Fleur and taking her from Nathan. As he eased her away he said, “You can’t let a fellow die for want of a few minutes of bliss.”
“Seconds will have to do.” One revolution and they bumped into Dominic, who claimed her once more but gave Noel an affable grin. “You’ll have other chances, old man.”
They barely left Noel standing on the floor when the music stopped and Dominic guided Fleur back to where Hattie sat with the group of ladies which had grown since Fleur had left. Hattie, like a brilliant flame, had drawn all manner of chattering, gorgeously dressed females to her and each did her best to outdo the others in wit and by raising her voice ever higher. Several groups of men stood close, openly remarking on the women’s charms.
Without warning, the women’s voices dropped to whispers. Hands were cupped over mouth and ear to keep every word a secret. Fleur saw Hattie look at Dominic and frown. He nodded in response.
Gussy rushed up trailing an elegant blond girl by the hand. “Fleur, meet Victoria Crewe-Burns, one of my oldest friends. In fact she is my best friend. Vicky, this is Fleur Toogood who is staying with the Dowager Marchioness of Granville.”
Vicky offered a gloved hand and seemed, Fleur thought, subdued. She was definitely watchful.
So this was the young woman who had sent Jane Weller on a mission, then done nothing to stop her from being falsely let go from her place?
But Fleur was too preoccupied to concentrate on the problem at the moment. She seethed. She might be a country bumpkin but she was not an uneducated fool with no knowledge of the polite world and how it worked. Dominic had just made a complete cake of her.
Also, something strange had happened among the group of women with Hattie, and Fleur was certain Dominic knew what that was.
The intrigue unsettled her and she wanted to leave.
One man after another found a reason to bow over her and introduce himself. Women raised eyebrows and tossed their heads if she met their eyes.
“Don’t mind about them,” Gussy whispered, pulling Fleur into a huddle with Vicky. “I see you feeling badly because of the way they look at you. All of them are so jealous they can’t stand it. You are the success of the evening.”
“Yes, you are,” Vicky said, her voice soft. “I can hardly wait until you come to Grosvenor Square. The gathering will be much bigger than this one and by then I don’t think anybody who is anybody will have failed to hear of you. The only question worth considering is what offers will come for your hand and who will be first.”
“And richest,” Gussy added.
“And the most handsome,” Vicky said.
Gussy pouted. “This is my third Season, Fleur, and as yet not a single man has offered for me. I am going to be on the shelf.”
“You’re so pretty,” Fleur said honestly. “And funny and full of life. Men can be dolts but you must be patient. When it’s discovered I have no money I doubt I’ll get a single offer and I’ll be just as glad.”
“What?” Gussy and Vicky asked in unison.
Vicky continued, “Of course you wouldn’t be glad. Anyway, when a female looks the way you do, she doesn’t need money. Did you see the Prince Regent? I almost fainted to be so near him.”
Fleur didn’t think she should remark on her thoughts about the royal gentleman.
“Where is Lord Nathan?” Vicky asked. “I thought he would be here.”
Fleur said, “He is. Gussy already danced with him.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Vicky asked her friend.
Gussy flipped her hand. “Because it wasn’t important. I’m surprised Olivia isn’t here.” She stood on her toes to peer about. “I know she was invited and she told me she would come because there’s a dashing military officer who has caught her fancy.”
“You know she’s secretly engaged to him.” Vicky looked around the room. “With all the money her family has, she can do better than that.”
“Don’t talk about secrets.” Gussy caught Vicky’s arm and stared into her face. “You don’t think Olivia’s been…”
Vicky shook her head vehemently. “No, I don’t. I’m sure Olivia is under the weather. I shall call on her in the morning. That is the officer in question, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is.” Gussy beckoned to a dark-haired man who looked splendid in his uniform. “Captain,” she said. “What have you done with Olivia?”
He appeared uncertain about approaching them.
“Come now,” Gussy said. “We are in a group and we are not at all fearsome. Join us.”
“Olivia became ill at the last moment,” he said and Fleur decided she understood why Olivia, whoever she might be, found him attractive. “I wouldn’t have come myself but my aunt expected me.”
Gussy slipped a hand around his forearm. “Well, I for one am glad you did come. In the morning I’ll go and visit Olivia and take her some of our restorative. I’m sure she’ll recover almost at once.”
The music struck up again and Gussy raised her eyes to the soldier’s. He cleared his throat and glanced around for her chaperon.
Gussy poked Dominic in the ribs and said, “This gentleman would like to speak with you.”
The captain, his neck as crimson as his jacket, said, “May I dance with Miss Arbuthnot?”
Dominic said, “Look after her,” and followed the couple’s progress toward the dance floor.
“Excuse me,” Vicky said at once and joined the ladies around Lady Granville.
“And that,” Dominic said at Fleur’s shoulder, “is why it’s so damnably difficult to get Gussy married off. She’s aggressive and a tease. She doesn’t give a fellow a chance to act on his own instincts.”
“You mean she emasculates him?” Fleur said.
Dominic pulled her to face him. “It’s just possible that you are too daunting for most men, too.”
“Good. I find I don’t particularly like most men. In fact I find them foolish and obvious and altogether too overbearing.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Please may I go home?”
Nathan arrived beside them in time to hear the end of the exchange. “This has been too much excitement for you, Fleur. You’re a quiet girl and you need to be treated with care. I shall take her home, Dominic. You can handle Hattie and Gussy, can’t you?”
Never had Fleur seen a more demonic expression on a man’s face. With his slitted blue eyes and the upward slash of his brows, Dominic conveyed his deep displeasure with Nathan. In fact he might as well have taken a blade and cut him. The only benefit of the former insult was that it didn’t draw blood.