Page 5 of A Match for Princess Pompous
Mother pulled him along once more. “Having known her since she was a girl, I have full affection for her, but I cannot approve of her behavior this Season.”
“I imagine she has her reasons,” Jack said. “Odette has never been impulsive.”
“Though you have known her all your life, it is not appropriate for you to use her Christian name in public.”
He offered a reassuring smile. “I call her that only when speaking with you or Father. My friends likely think I don’t even know her Christian name, despite having grown up in the same neighborhood.”
“After the disastrous Season she has had, they likely think you are choosing to forget her name, her friendship, her connection to us.”
“I hope they know I am not so fickle as that.”
Mother pulled him around a gathering of matrons. “Mrs. Northrop will correct her path, I’ve no doubt,” Mother said. “An announcement will appear in theTimesbefore the Season is out, mark my words.”
“That does not sound like a happy outcome for Od—Miss Armistead, being pushed into a match.” He did not like the idea at all.
“Mrs. Northrop has never failed to make a match for anyone she has been assigned. She is the one who brought about the marriage between Miss Pattington and Lord Beaumont’s middle son.”
A happy match by all accounts. Jack’s mind was still not set at ease.
They had, however, arrived directly beside the Summerfields, and he was afforded no opportunity for pondering the potential for Mrs. Northrop to inflict misery.
Mother and Mrs. Summerfield exchanged their usual greetings, each equally eager for the other’s company. Miss Summerfield offered a quiet smile in Jack’s general direction, though she did not speak. That was common for her, at least from what he had learned in the year since her family had come to live near theirs. She was almost always silent, though not out of arrogance nor dismissiveness. She was simply not of a talkative disposition. He hadn’t the first idea whether she was different when at home or among her closest associates.
“The evening promises to be quite a crush,” Jack said.
Miss Summerfield nodded. Her mother prodded her with an elbow. “Yes, it does,” she added, her voice hardly rising above the volume of a breeze.
Mother nudged Jack, motioning with her head in Miss Summerfield’s direction. He did not need the message translated. To Miss Summerfield, he said, “I am engaged for the next few sets, but if your quadrille remains unclaimed, I would be honored if you would grant me that privilege.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
He offered a bow. She a brief curtsy.
“Now, if you will excuse me,” he said to all three ladies, “I am engaged for the next set.”
“It will not begin for a few minutes yet,” Mother said, an edge to her voice that spoke of both frustration and the blossoming of panic. He was, after all, quitting the field quite prematurely.
“I am not entirely certain where my partner is,” he explained. “I would not wish to arrive late to do my duty.”
He beat a hasty retreat, though careful to appear casual. Miss Summerfield was a fine young lady, but they were not at all well suited. Even if they were, no gentleman of sense or decency would marry when his heart belonged to another.
Jack located his next partner, escorting her to join the other couples in the open area of the ballroom. Terrance had secured a partner as well, the very partner he had declared he would dance with. His grin spoke of amusement and triumph. Odette appeared far less pleased.
The movements of the dance progressed. Jack’s partner possessed a fluid grace. She also possessed an incredibly high opinion of herself, as evidenced by the remarks she managed to slip in anytime they were brought near enough each other. The title of “Princess Pompous” had clearly been wrongly assigned. Miss Garrett was far more deserving of it.
He moved past Odette.
“Your friend is being ridiculous,” she said quickly.
“That is the only way we are able to recognize him.”
The tiniest, briefest of smiles flashed across her face before being tucked firmly away. He managed to keep his own under control.
The steps brought him past Terrance next. “You are not making a good impression, my friend.”
Terrance only laughed. He really was a good sort of fellow, simply too inclined for a lark when somberness was called for.
On and on the dance went. His partner continued listing her own fine qualities, though she wrapped the boasts in a flag of false humility. Terrance grinned a great deal. Odette kept to thepolite neutrality Society preferred. And Jack wished for nothing more than to escape it all.
