Page 14 of The Sprinter
George stood onthe far side of the ballroom, surreptitiously glancing at Miss Yardley as she was surrounded by his aunt’s cabal of matrons.
He had vowed to himself that he would steer well clear of his aunt and her current project, but somehow, he had encountered Miss Yardley far more often than he’d thought he would. Of course, it could not be helped. He felt a duty to inform his aunt that Lackington and Allen had expanded their hours for the season. And then on another day, that Lord and Lady Penmar had arrived to Town. The very next day he discovered that Lord Nankin had a mare for sale that his aunt might like for her own stables and that could obviously not be put off. Then there had been the day he forgot what he came for and he was still trying to remember what it was.
As long as he was going to her house to tell Lady Heathway something she needed to know, he’d thought he might as well go when food was on the horizon. He’d grown very tired of the food at his club and his aunt always did have a very good cook. Dinner was preferred, but he’d come for tea twice too.
He’d found Miss Yardley an interesting lady. She appeared well-educated and could speak creditably on a variety of subjects. She spoke French elegantly, and a smattering of German too. She had the delicate manners of one who had been raised in a refined household. He supposed most of all, he did not at all mind looking at that face and all its many expressions. She was downright adorable when something went wrong with her embroidery and she bit her lower lip while she pulled out the stitches.
But now…my God, she was stunning. Her color was high, and her hair perfectly composed, and that dress. She was…
She was rather magnificent.
As he gazed round the room, so as not to make it obvious that he kept looking in one particular direction, he spotted Langley escorting the new Lady Langley. They looked well-pleased with each other and it was his understanding that they were always to be found together, coming and going from Buckingham Palace.
Lady Annabelle looked equally well-pleased with her escort, and George had heard she’d recently married a baron from her own neighborhood. He seemed a red-haired beast of a fellow and towered over her, but large though he was, he clearly took his direction from his diminutive wife. Lady Annabelle was just now shaking a finger at him as he laughed. She was a silly creature, George had always thought, but his governess used to always say there was saucer for every cup. It seemed this particular saucer and cup had found one another.
It had not escaped his notice that Miss Yardley’s card was filling rapidly. He knew Vance was on it, and Bertridge too. Now the duchess’ son, Lord Blackwood, had muscled in, with Lord Ryland close behind.
Well, he supposed they would. Any gentleman coming in late would find himself mightily disappointed. Miss Yardley was going to be very popular this season. She really did stand out as exceptional. Tall, slim, wonderful dark hair and those large expressive eyes. And then she was dressed so simple and yet elegant, which was especially striking amongst the other ladies who worked so hard to decorate themselves with endless amounts of trimmings.
He found he could not like it. After all, she was just arrived from the countryside. What did she know? She might easily be taken advantage of—he’d already seen evidence of her gullibility. After all, had she not fallen for her mother’s ridiculous ruses? Had she not believed the lady was desperately ill when all with eyes could see that she was only pretending at it? Did that not speak of a certain innocence and naivete?
He’d have to find some way of putting her on her guard.
It would be a duty. A duty to his aunt. At the very least.
Bertridge approached and said, “Your aunt’s project, Miss Yardley, is very pretty. I’ve taken her first—got to pay proper homage to the old gals’ society, you know. I suppose my own aunt will jump into the thing at some point.”
George nodded, though he was not in the least convinced that Bertridge had taken Miss Yardley’s first set for any such reason. As for Lady Eastonjumping into the thing, he found he did not care one way or the other what the lady jumped into.
He felt himself vaguely dissatisfied with the whole situation. He’d sworn he would not have anything to do with his aunt’s society. But now, he felt he really must step in. He must guard Miss Yardley from…
From all ofthem.
Just until a suitable choice of marriage partner had been made, of course. Then, she would be off his hands. He would be able to dust himself off from his involvement in this project and his aunt could bask in her success. All would have been satisfactorily concluded.
As for the moment, though, he must warn Miss Yardley aboutthem. It would be duty, or family honor, or something along those lines…
*
Had Grace beenin a more usual situation and been brought to the ball by her mother, she would not have felt she was treading the boards as an actor on a stage. Had Lady Barlow been her chaperone, that chaperone would have retreated to the card room long ago.
Her mother had never seen the point of close supervision. It would have seemed a lot of effort to no purpose. Lady Barlow was not one to put out a lot of effort, even if therewerea purpose.
Some of these ladies, though, took a different view. Lady Heathway, Lady Featherstone, the duchess, and Lady Redfield stayed in the ballroom and examined every step she made. It was only Lady Easton taken up by her duties as a hostess, and Lady Mendleton too engrossed in admiring her new daughter-in-law, that did not keep her in view every moment.
She’d been led through the first by Lord Bertridge and it had been very formal, as they were in a set with Lady Easton and the Duke of Stanbury. Lady Easton had established the tone, and Lady Easton’s tone was decidedly reserved. Grace had found a very willing audience in Lord Bertridge, however, when it came to the size of his avenue.
Mr. Vance had led her next and he was quite the opposite. He made her laugh several times, though each time she did she could almost feel the frowns coming from Lady Heathway.
The duchess’ son, Lord Blackwood, was a genial enough gentleman, though he was one of those who thought his horses were the most interesting thing in Town.
Lord Ryland was an eccentric gentleman who wished to talk about crime, most especially murder or forgery. Grace thought it the oddest thing in the world, but apparently, he had his own club on the subject and told her she was welcome to attend the public evenings when they discussed a real case. She smiled and while she did not say so, she rather thoughtnot.
All along, as she stepped and spoke, she thought of Lord Gresham. She did not wish to have her thoughts kidnapped in such a manner, but she could not seem to stop their direction.
She saw him sometimes, leading another lady round the floor.
He was so elegant!
