Barbara Metzger (21 page)

“Only for watching out for Priscilla. I’m to stand by in case no one asks her to dance, you understand.”

Jacey didn’t. “All night? You have to dance with your sister all night?”

“Of course not. She’s very popular, a real Diamond. The company’s still a little thin, is all, and her arrival may have gone unnoticed. Quite the thing to do.”

“If Priscilla can spare you, do you think you might dance with Miss Endicott, Lady Rhodine, that is? She was very nervous about this evening, and she’s very shy, you know. I felt since you’re already acquainted…”

“Of course, be delighted. Nice girl. I don’t know why, but I forgot all about her. Where is she?”

“She just came in, over there by the door, with the stunning redhead. That must be Lady Tina, her stepmother.”

“Where? I don’t see—Good heavens, is
that
Lady Rhodine?”

Without consulting his mother or Priscilla, he excused himself to go welcome Miss Endicott. “Doesn’t know many people. Quiet girl, don’t you know.” He only stepped on one dowager’s foot in his haste. Jacelyn made sure Claibourne was smiling too.

When the music started for the next selection, a country dance, Mr. Sprague ended his conversation with the earl and headed toward Priscilla. She slowed her fanning and turned her head away. The lady wasn’t interested, not in some minor government functionary: He walked right by her and led Jacelyn out! They were headed toward Arthur and Rhodine Endicott’s set, and no one had yet asked Priscilla to dance!

None of her other admirers seemed to be around. Damn Arthur. Claibourne was still nearby, though, talking with her mother and Lady Parkhurst. He seemed to be acceptable in polite company, suddenly, and he was certainly handsome, if one didn’t mind his nonchalant, almost flippant manner. Those blue eyes and broad shoulders… No, it wouldn’t hurt Priscilla’s consequence in the least to be seen with the worldly earl. They would make quite an attractive pair, in fact, both fairhaired, tall, dignified. Not like the couple he made with that harum-scarum little gypsy. Priscilla paced the fan’s rhythm to her eyelash fluttering. The earl didn’t seem to notice. Priscilla mentioned, “Oh dear, the music is starting, and my partner hasn’t arrived,” and the infuriating man asked Lady Parkhurst if she was dancing that evening. After her tittered denials, Claibourne turned to Lady Ponsonby. Priscilla’s own mother! One of the spokes of her fan snapped in two.

“How ungallant of your partner, Miss Ponsonby. Might I take his place?” Claibourne finally got around to asking.

“My pleasure,” she answered through clenched teeth as he led her past dancing couples to the same set the others had joined. When the movements of the dance brought Arthur as her partner, Priscilla stomped on his foot, hard. He yelped and hopped about, however, instead of taking his punishment like a man, which made her look like a clumsy cow. The dance wasn’t over soon enough for Priscilla, who accepted Mr. Sprague’s offer to dance even before reaching her mother’s seat, lest the shame of being partnerless repeat itself.

Jacelyn was to dance next with Arthur, and Claibourne with Rhodine, so they all stood near Lady Parkhurst, chatting amiably, while Priscilla seethed as she turned down four men she’d rather dance with than that prosy Sprague. At least her dance card was getting full! She absolutely refused to acknowledge that some of her gentlemen had also put their names on Jacelyn’s and Rhodine’s cards, and two had actually asked Jacey first!

The quadrille was a complicated dance, and both Jacelyn and Arthur had to mind their steps. He did manage to compliment her efforts on Rhodine’s behalf, though.

“What, did she say I had anything to do with her new style?”

“She was telling everyone over by Lady Tina how much you’d done to help. Nice girl, appreciates kindness.”

“Poo! No, I don’t mean Rhodine isn’t nice; she’s the sweetest thing in nature. I just meant I didn’t do anything. My maid and Aunt Simone’s did all the work.”

“It’s more than m’sister would have done, help someone who’s much pre—Um, ah…”

Jacelyn laughed, and almost missed a turn. “You can say it, Arthur, Rhodine is the image of the English beauty. She just needed a little push, that’s all.”

“Still, it was a deuced fine thing.”

“Why, Arthur, I believe you may even grow to like me one of these years!”

His choking caused a button to pop off his straining waistcoat, causing the gentleman behind him to lose his footing. Skidding, that man grabbed his partner for balance, throwing her off the measure. She stepped back, and right onto the flounce of the lady next on the line, tearing it. It just wasn’t Priscilla’s night.

Jacelyn next danced the boulanger with Lord Farthingale. She’d hastily introduced Rhodine to Lord Tayson, who was to have partnered Priscilla, and sent them into the dance. Now she was too worried about how quiet Rhodine and the nervous, stammering Lord Tayson would manage a conversation to pay much attention to Farthingale’s flattery.

“Come, my lord, there must be a more interesting topic of conversation than my gown. How did you spend the day, for instance, or have you any fascinating plans, and have you seen any of the new plays? We’re to go to Drury Lane next week.”

Another contra dance followed, with Lord Tayson with his rose boutonniere. Luckily, the figures kept partners changing, so Jacey didn’t have to sustain a long conversation. She did recall the questions she’d put to Farthingale, to stopper his high-flown compliments, and used them to good effect with the young nobleman, until he was finishing whole sentences before moving to the next lady in the figure. She also met three new gentlemen and found they were happy to speak of themselves and their interests, rather than just the usual gossip and polite inconsequentialities.

Jacelyn was becoming so popular with those who had met her, and so attractive to those who’d only seen or heard of her, that the spokes of her fan were nearly filled by the time the next set started. It was a waltz, which she had to sit out until approved for it by one of the patronesses, under some peculiar ruling. No matter, she was glad of the rest, and the cool drink Claibourne had waiting for her.

“Aren’t you promised, my lord?”

“Only to you, pet. I’m here to beat off the hordes of admirers, remember?”

She told him, with a giggle, to leave enough of them for her to dance with. “I’m having a wonderful time! Are you? Are you very bored?”

“Not at all. I danced with Lady Rhodine and heard you nearly recommended for sainthood; I listened to five dowagers tell your aunt what a delightful girl you appeared; and I had seven chaps tell me what a lucky dog I was while they waited in line to sign your programme. Delightful evening.”

“You could go dance with Sally Jersey.”

“Minx! Be quiet and drink that insipid stuff, or I’ll tell all your admirers how you gallop in the park.”

After that, Jacelyn danced straight through to the intermission. She danced with Lord Farthingale again, and all the new young men, and the Spanish count, de Silva, which raised Claibourne’s brow, which in turn made it hard for Jacey to keep from laughing during de Silva’s long, flowery speeches. She danced with her uncle, passing between the card room and the front vestibule where he could enjoy blowing a cloud. She danced with some of the older set, Miss Montmorency’s Lord Milbrooke, for one, who found her refreshing, and whom she found charming and courtly. She did not dance with Anton-Fredricks. She couldn’t believe the man had the gall to ask her, and took great pleasure in announcing that her card was filled. Arthur, nearby with Rhodine, crossed his arms over his chest and glowered.

“I see,” said Anton-Fredricks, looking from one to the other.

“I thought you would, old boy,” said Claibourne.

Arthur and Rhodine strolled off to find what refreshments were available. Ponsonby, like Claibourne, had danced a few duty sets, and otherwise stood near the chaperones, waiting for the ladies to be returned. He wasn’t there for his sister’s sake, now, but for Miss Endicott’s, whose own chaperone seemed to have disappeared, rather than stay to hear more about her stepdaughter’s dewy beauty. Rhodine was dancing nearly every dance too, for the first time in her life, and not just with those who couldn’t get near Jacelyn. But Arthur was always waiting there, with a cooling drink, or to wave her fan, or to receive her tremulous smiles.

“He’s positively hovering over the girl,” Claibourne told Jacelyn. “You were right, she’s as helpless as a kitten, and he’s a natural guard dog. I congratulate you on your foresight. Now what in hell are you going to do about that puppy Farthingale? He’s been drooling over my shoulder all night.”

“Now you’re encouraging my matchmaking? What an aboutface!”

“I’ve seen it succeed. While you’re at it, what about Sprague? The poor fellow had his dance with the Iceberg and went home.”

“I know. Isn’t it sad? But don’t worry, I’m working on it. I haven’t got it quite settled between them, but I think one or the other would be perfect for Sam. You know, Squire’s daughter Samantha. She’s to come for my ball next month. Can you see Squire with a future duke as son-in-law? And a sports-mad one at that? I don’t know if Sam would like being a duchess though. She might prefer Mr. Sprague’s quiet gentility and good sense. Squire would be pleased with a man who earns his way in life too, instead of what he’d call a fribble. I’ll have to let Sam decide.”

“Kind of you, my dear.”

After the intermission, Jacelyn had her second dance with Leigh, and another with Tayson, at ease with her now. All the young men were, in fact. The girl was cheerful and pleasant, without all those airs the Incomparables adopted. Furthermore, she was a beautiful little handful, a regular Pocket Venus. She was soon dubbed an Original, for her style and her outspoken views. Why, she’d argue the merits of crossbreeding as easily as discussing the weather. She was kind, too, didn’t make a fellow feel no-account if he forgot the steps, and look what she’d done for the Endicott girl, the one who’d been all over frills and frizz, and no conversation. Miss Trevaine was safe, besides. Some of those other girls, you danced with them twice and their mamas were calling you son. Miss Jacelyn was as good as spoken for, with Claibourne at her side all night, looking as if he were just casually passing time, and giving all her partners a look that would freeze their livers if they had dishonourable thoughts. If they did, they got rid of them fast and simply enjoyed the young woman’s unaffected charm. So relaxed were they in her pleasing company that they found themselves excitedly telling her about yesterday’s races, and last week’s mills, and tomorrow’s cockfights in Little Dene.

“We have to stop it, Leigh, can’t you see that? It’s dreadful, what they do to the poor birds!” They were sitting out another waltz.

“Yes, it is dreadful, Jacelyn, but we cannot stop it. It’s the way of the world, and nothing will change that.”

“I won’t accept that. It’s wrong and shouldn’t be allowed. We can notify the authorities.”

“And what would that do? It might even be legal in that village, for all you know. The authorities don’t care, if it keeps the people happy. You’ve heard of bread and circuses, haven’t you? This is the same. The young bloods from London will go bet their blunt, but it’ll mostly be country folk, poor farmers and down-at-the-heels workers. It’s one of their few pleasures, and no one wants to be the one to take it away. The folks who live there? Think of all the traffic and trade for a little market town. Do you think the locals would be pleased to see their windfall outlawed?”

“But what about the birds, and how immoral it is to wager on another creature’s life!”

“I’ll tell Lady Ponsonby to pray for their souls. Listen, Jacelyn, whatever notion you’re entertaining, get rid of it. This isn’t like playing ducks and drakes with Squire. These are rough, violent men. It would be dangerous to interfere with them in any way. Do you understand?”

“I understand you won’t help.” She was disappointed and disillusioned. As for Leigh, he wanted to shake her.

“Jacey, I am not a Farthingale to parrot every opinion you make, and I won’t agree with you when you’re wrong. I cannot think your thoughts, nor vice versa. And this time you are wrong. It’s sad, sweetheart, I know it is, but you can’t save every fallen sparrow, and you cannot change the world singlehandedly.”

“Then why did you volunteer to fight Bonaparte, and stay so long? Did you think he wouldn’t be defeated, else? Yet you were only one man!”

“I was only one man, but there was a whole army beside me. You are one woman. You cannot take on a whole cockpit!”

*

It was easy for Jacelyn to discover the location of the cockfight, some few miles outside of London along the Great North Road, and to watch for the crossroads signs at Upper Dene’s Landing. The young Corinthians were speaking of nothing else, though once she had the information she needed, Jacelyn refused to discuss it further. One overeager enthusiast kept at it, till she told him to go find a like-thinking friend, put bladed spurs on, flap their arms up and down, and try to cut each other to shreds. It would be better sport! When the man laughed at her “wit” she walked off the dance floor, claiming a ripped flounce.

She didn’t even have a flounce, but she went to the ladies’ retiring room anyway, to get away from the chatter and music, and think. She wasn’t sure what she could do about the cockfight. That was for later. Right now she had to think about Leigh. They were friends—he’d said it just last night—although she felt so much more. Claibourne was almost a part of her, sharing all those silent jokes at the silliness around them, touching her hand gently when he sensed she needed reassurance. He was there, for her, this whole night that could have seen her disgraced. It was his stature that had lent her the credit to be a success. So why was she so hurt, so angry, that he couldn’t support her in this? Maybe because they were so close, to her thinking, and she was beginning to dream of their being one. Which was foolish, she knew. Even if he loved her with his whole heart, they would still be separate people, with separate beliefs and separate feelings. Even if he loved her…