Page 28 of Holly & Folly

Returning to her tiptoes, Nell caught sight of Miss Caldwell, eyes bright with expectation as the earl approached her and her mother.

But the earl did not pass in front of them, instead disappearing again as Nell’s view became obstructed by the tall men in front of her.

They parted ways of a sudden, revealing Lord Dalmeer, whose eyes fixed on her.

Her heart skipped several beats.

Everyone’s attention was upon her. There were murmurings in the crowd, and she was aware of both Wesley and Millie watching with wide, intent gazes.

Lord Dalmeer came to a halt two feet shy of Nell, his eyes sparkling merrily as they met hers, as if to say are you ready?

Everyone could see her face, while his back was turned to them.

Slowly, he went into a deep bow.

Blood crept up Nell’s neck and into her cheeks.

She remembered the earl’s words: If you receive my attentions with a confident sort of amusement, people will take notice without worrying that you are falling victim or lacking propriety.

If she looked bowled over by his choosing her as the prettiest, she would give the impression that she put great stock in the action—that she expected something from it. People might even assume she was repeating her past mistakes, only this time, they would laugh at her presumption for thinking an earl cared the snap of his fingers for her.

She smiled as Lord Dalmeer rose and gave a little curtsy of her own. “You are too kind, my lord.”

He held her gaze for another moment, then turned around. “What was the next one, Mother?”

The countess, who looked as pleased as Mr. Fowell at what had just happened, recovered her annoyance with a wide smile. “Kneel to the wittiest, Lord Dalmeer.”

She insisted on referring to her son by his title, perhaps to remind her guests in whose presence they were honored to find themselves.

Attention returned to the earl, and Nell tried not to betray her relief—or her curiosity over his next choice.

He walked casually amongst the guests, and Nell’s eyes flicked from woman to woman, trying to anticipate whom he might choose. She did not yet know all of those in attendance—some had avoided an introduction—but even amongst those of her acquaintance, there was plenty of wit. The room seemed to lean toward the earl in anticipation, and Nell shifted her weight to the back of her heels to counter the same impulse.

Lord Dalmeer filtered through the guests at his casual pace, entirely oblivious to the disappointment he left in his wake.

Nell’s gaze landed upon Miss Sterling. She seemed to be a great wit—and beautiful into the bargain. Nell had no notion of her financial situation or her pedigree, but she was dressed finely and held herself with the grace of someone of note.

And yet, Lord Dalmeer passed her by, making his way toward…

Nell’s breath hitched as his gaze fixed on her again, the delight of surprising her in the lift of his lip at one edge.

She could not stop the laugh of disbelief that came from her as he stopped in front of her, lowered to one knee, and bowed his head as though kneeling before the king himself.

“You overwhelm me, my lord,” she said in as light a voice as she could manage.

“It is you who overwhelm us, Miss Prescott,” he said with the most charming of smiles.

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes at his theatrics.

He turned back toward his mother, who looked on with a decided frown.

A quiver of discomfort went through Nell at the reminder that this arrangement with the earl was assuring her descent further into her hostess’s bad graces.

Lord Dalmeer, at least, seemed to be achieving his goal very well.

“And the last?” he prompted his mother.

Lady Dalmeer did not seem inclined to answer his question.