Chapter 25
“Sorry I’m late, Lord Blackburn,” Giles said, rushing into Reginald’s suite at the Fifth Avenue Hotel the next day, dashing a hand over a brow that was dotted with perspiration, even though the temperature outside had been dropping at a rapid clip all afternoon. “I had no idea that offering my assistance to the gentlemen who were trying to get ready for the quadrille would take so long after you and I took Miss Garrison, along with all the bags she’d packed her costume in, over to Delmonico’s.”
Reginald smiled. “I’m sure your assistance was much appreciated, but getting the gentlemen ready must have been a rather daunting feat because you seem a bit rattled, and . . . you just addressed me as Lord Blackburn.”
Giles stopped directly in front of Reginald and raked a hand through hair that was standing on end. “Daunting is putting it mildly, sir, but do forgive me for the slip with your title. I’m afraid I am somewhat rattled, what with how demanding those gentlemen were.” He shook his head. “You can’t imagine how many times I was asked to re-powder a wig or repaint a face, and don’t even get me started on what lengths I had to go to in order to get some of the gentlemen dressed. Since they apparently were unwilling to hand over their true measurements, they found themselves not quite able to button pieces of their costumes. You would not believe the arguments I was forced to listen to after I suggested the only solution was to bind the men with strips of linen, a suggestion that was met with vehement protests until I suggested stuffing them into corsets.”
Reginald grinned. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to witness that. It sounds rather amusing.”
Giles returned the grin. “It was, but I could have done without the arguing.” Giles took a step back and looked Reginald up and down. “You’ve done a remarkably fine job of pulling yourself together without my help, but you do have some lint on your sleeve. Allow me a moment to wash up since I still seem to have powder on me.”
“I might need some assistance as well, Giles,” Charles said, strolling into the room, his tie askew, his hair less than perfect, and his white waistcoat improperly buttoned.
Giles’s eyes widened. “I’ll be right back.”
Reginald smiled as his valet dashed toward the retiring room before he turned to Charles, looking him over. “Here, let me at least help you with your tie.”
He moved to stand in front of Charles. “Where have you been all week? I feel as if I’ve not seen you at all and I have been wanting to talk to you about—”
“If I’ve made a decision about who I want to make my countess?”
Reginald frowned. “Since Adele told me yesterday that you’re intending on making a grand announcement tonight, I assumed you’d already made your decision, although I would have thought you’d seek my counsel before announcing to the New York Four Hundred who you’re planning on marrying.”
Charles’s brows drew together. “Adele wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about my announcement tonight.”
“Clearly you’ve yet to get Adele’s full measure. Please tell me you’ve not settled on her as your choice, have you?”
Charles released a snort. “I’m not a complete idiot.”
“So you’re not intending on asking Adele to marry you?”
“Again, I’m not an idiot, unlike you who—” Charles stopped talking as he caught sight of himself in a mirror. He grimaced, then ran his fingers through his hair, which only left it looking more rumpled than ever.
“Did you just call me an idiot?” Reginald asked, taking a seat and catching Charles’s eye in the reflection of the mirror.
“What possible reason would I have to call you that?”
“How could I possibly know how to answer that, unless . . .” Reginald frowned. “Are you put out with me because I recently abandoned all the etiquette lessons I’d been giving, which might have left you to the mercy of swarms of young ladies trying to impress you?”
Charles leaned closer to his reflection, smoothing the tie Reginald had just fixed. “I’m perfectly capable of dealing with determined young ladies, Reginald. Frankly, those ladies were so put out about your abandonment that they began complaining about you, as well as Giles, who has evidently gone into hiding. Curiously enough, that allowed me to see their true characters.” He turned and smiled. “Not that I didn’t find their attempts at disparaging you somewhat amusing, since I’ve never known anyone to find you so lacking before.”
“Glad I could be a source of amusement, but getting back to why you think I’m an idiot . . . ?”
Consulting his pocket watch, Charles shook his head. “I don’t have enough time to do justice to that question. We’re expected at the ball in less than an hour, but do know I’ll be more than happy to discuss the matter with you later. But speaking of the ball, aren’t you supposed to be escorting Poppy?”
“She’s already there. She, along with the other quadrille participants, except for Adele, decided they’d get ready at Delmonico’s. That establishment has a few rooms for just that purpose, which Poppy decided to use, as did all the rest of the quadrille participants, except, again, Adele.” He smiled. “They don’t want any of the guests to get a glimpse of them or their costumes before the quadrille begins.”
“Why isn’t Adele getting dressed there?”
“Because no one asked her to join them,” Giles said as he hurried back into the room. “And before you ask me why they didn’t ask her, did you bother to read the notes I made about Miss Tooker?”
Charles nodded. “I did, but I don’t recall anything that mentioned anything about the ball tonight.”
“I didn’t make any notes specifically about the ball, Lord Lonsdale, only about her character, which is why she wasn’t asked to join the other ladies this evening. She’s not been behaving admirably.”
Charles looked to Reginald, then back to Giles, then abruptly took a seat. “I think a more thorough explanation is needed, if you please, but be quick about it because we’re running out of time.”
Five minutes was all it took for Reginald to sum up the situation. “And that’s why Giles and I, every member of the Van Rensselaer staff, five seamstresses, and two shoemakers spent most of the night modifying costumes that Adele had embellished, evidently in the hope of causing the other ladies participating in the quadrille to be at a disadvantage. I’m convinced Adele spent hours practicing in the ridiculous heels she chose without anyone’s knowledge, and I would bet she didn’t have her gown sewn to where it was inches too small in the waist, something many of the ladies who arrived at Poppy’s last night discovered about their gowns.”
“There was so much work to be done,” Giles added, expertly setting Charles’s waistcoat and hair to rights as he spoke. “Even I was given a needle and thread and set to work hemming until four in the morning.” He smiled. “I was vastly relieved when Mr. Murray Middleton returned to the house and immediately joined me. We weren’t as competent as the seamstresses, but Murray was very good with reattaching glass beads to the heels of the shoes the cobblers had whittled down to a more manageable height.”
Reginald nodded to Charles. “And now, with all that explained, please tell me Adele isn’t in the running to become your countess, or better yet, tell me you’ll put off this grand announcement until you and I have a chance to discuss everything thoroughly.”
“My grand announcement doesn’t actually involve Adele, but I’m not going to put it off. Mrs. Astor, the esteemed queen of New York society, has most likely heard about my announcement. That means she will be disappointed if I don’t go through with it, but no need to worry. It’s not an announcement that’s going to ruin my life.” Charles rose from the chair. “With that said, let us get on our way. We do, after all, have a ball to attend.”
Fifty-five minutes later, Reginald stepped from his rented carriage, bending his head against the wind that all but pushed him toward Delmonico’s. Hurrying up the steps, he joined Charles, who’d ridden in a separate carriage, in the receiving line, along with Miss Edith Iselin, who’d ridden to the ball with Charles that evening.
“You’re looking very well, Edith,” he said.
Edith smiled. “Thank you, Reginald. You’re looking well yourself. You’ve shaved off your beard.”
“You did shave off your beard,” Charles said, leaning closer before he straightened and arched a brow. “Do you think that’s wise?”
Reginald realized with a start that he’d never gotten around to explaining to his cousin that George had already recognized him. He’d also not told Charles that he was almost ready to divulge the truth to Poppy, although how he . . .
“Ah, Lord Lonsdale, there you are,” Mrs. Astor exclaimed, gesturing for Charles to join her even though there were a good number of guests ahead of him.
“We’ll talk later?” Charles asked.
“We will, and it seems as if we’re going to have much to discuss,” Reginald said, unable to help but notice that Charles had slid his hand for the briefest of moments against Edith’s back, before he’d offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation.
“Too right we do,” Charles said with a wink before he walked with Edith past the guests waiting to greet Mrs. Astor.
After he finally made his way through the receiving line, Reginald moved down a hallway, stopping when Murray suddenly stuck his head around a door that looked as if it led to a flight of stairs. Striding over to join him, he soon found himself tugged through the door, Murray closing it firmly shut behind him.
“You’re looking very . . . powdered” was all Reginald could think to say as he took in his friend’s appearance.
Murray was looking exactly as if he’d stepped out of time, wearing a powdered wig, white knee breeches, and a dazzling white waistcoat sporting hundreds of glass beads, which sparkled even in the dimly lit hallway they were standing in.
“Giles got a tad carried away when he was powdering me,” Murray said, waving a billowy sleeve and causing powder to float aimlessly in the air. “But look at you. You shaved.”
“I didn’t want to attend the ball looking like a mountain man.”
“You wanted to look nice for Poppy.”
Reginald frowned. “Or I was merely tired of the beard.”
“You’re clearly still in denial about your feelings for her, but now’s not the time to discuss the matter. Adele just arrived, and I thought you and I should sneak upstairs and hover outside the room where all the other ladies participating in the quadrille are gathered.”
“I’m not really the type of gentleman to hover.”
“That’s too bad because we’re going to, and if it begins sounding like it’s turning nasty, you may then feel free to burst in and save Poppy yet again, this time from the wrath of a spiteful lady.”
“I’m not certain Poppy would appreciate that.”
“Of course she would,” Murray said, turning and heading up the steps, the heels of the buckle shoes he was wearing ringing out against the wooden floors.
Knowing there was no choice but to follow, since Murray was determined to get as close as he could to what might turn into an unpleasant situation, and that there was every chance that Murray would attempt to drag Reginald up the stairs if he balked, he began climbing the steps after his friend. He made it almost to the top before shrieking met his ears, undoubtedly coming from an enraged lady, one he was going to assume was Adele.