June Calvin (4 page)

“In a manner of speaking. I would like to escort you to Almack’s this evening.”

Davida was silent for a long moment, wondering how to refuse without insulting him. Her mother, who sat nearby with her tambour frame, rushed into the breech. “How very kind of you, my lord. Our first night there will be much more comfortable with a handsome and popular member as our escort.”

Pelham lifted a questioning eyebrow at Davida’s silence and her serious look. “Miss Gresham?”

“One of the first rules of the physician is to do no harm. Are you sure it is wise for us to continue this pretend-courtship? For your sake, I fear not.”

A stubborn set to his mouth warned her of his determination. “I am not now engaged to Lady Elspeth, so I am free to escort whom I please. It would please me very much to escort you.”

Davida sighed and smiled slightly. “If you really think it best. But I . . .”

At this moment, Lord Threlbourne was announced. He was one of the young men Pelham had introduced her to during their drive in the park.

“Gil, why are you plaguing Miss Gresham at this hour,” Pelham joked as he shook hands with the gangling viscount.

Threlbourne flushed under his mass of freckles until his face was almost as red as his hair, but he stood his ground. “Miss Gresham wanted to see the Elgin marbles again. You know I can’t stay away.”

“As much as you like antiquities, you ought to go to Greece. In fact, why don’t you start right now. I wanted to take Miss Gresham for a drive.”

“Not me! After hearing about the hardships of travel that Hobbhouse and Byron experienced, I’ll just let others bring its treasures to me, thank you. But come, Miss Gresham. We must be off.”

Threlbourne hastened Davida into the foyer and helped her into her pelisse. It was an overcast, rather cool day, threatening rain, so she accepted the umbrella which Perry gravely offered her.

“Shouldn’t let this ham-handed fellow drive you, you know,” Pelham called after them as she was handed up into the viscount’s high-perch phaeton.

Davida grinned down at him. “I’ve heard his grays beat your bays in a certain race, however.”

Pelham made a fist and banged the wheel as Threlbourne laughed. “It wasn’t a fair race. I had a passenger and Gil didn’t.”

“Then we must have a rematch, Monty. I know, I’ll take along Miss Gresham as ballast.”

“Well, I like that,” Davida choked out over her laugh.

“No, it’s not safe for her. You’re too cow-handed. We’ll race without passengers and then we’ll see.

“You’re on.” Threlbourne pumped his hand. “Name the time.”

As Threlbourne mounted the carriage beside her and gave his impatient grays the office to start, Davida’s excited voice carried back to Pelham. “Are you really going to race? I should so like to see it.”

Pelham smiled to himself as he watched them drive away. He couldn’t imagine Elspeth entering so enthusiastically into such a venture.
Davida is up to every rig
, he thought.
A pity Elspeth can’t have a bit of her adventurous spirit.

Chapter Five

F
or her debut at Almack’s, Davida was careful to dress demurely in a pale shade of pink. When she came downstairs, her father approvingly examined her frothy, high-waisted gown of pink lace over a white satin slip. It was cut lower in the front than the gown she had worn to the Stanhope ball, and Davida felt just a bit self-conscious at the swell of bosom it revealed. She wondered if her father would order her upstairs to find a more modest dress.

Sir Charles seemed undisturbed, however. He kissed her cheek and handed her a small, narrow box, a sly grin on his face.

“Carved coral—carved into roses! They’re exquisite!” she exclaimed, drawing the necklace from the satin lining. Excitedly she let her father replace the pearls she had donned earlier with the brilliant coral necklace, since she had put matching coral earrings in her ears.

The pier glass in the hall armoire told her that this touch of vivid color greatly enhanced her looks. She was hugging her father with gratitude when Lord Pelham was admitted by a footman.

A look full of approval on his face, Pelham came to her side after greeting her parents.
“Trés charmante,”
he murmured, bending over her gloved hand. For the first time he let his lips lightly caress her fingertips, and Davida gave a jump as that slight touch rocked her senses. Her wide, startled eyes met his, and the look there perplexed her, being rather knowing and speculative.

“It is a nasty night out, be sure you are well covered,” he admonished as the ladies’ cloaks were brought. Her father, feeling them adequately escorted, was not accompanying them. He knew that he had served her cause well at the Stanhopes’ ball. Tonight he looked forward to an evening of card-playing at Boodles, his preferred club, where the stakes were not too high.

The rain couldn’t dampen Davida’s excitement, nor could her first glimpse of Almack’s. She knew it was famous more for the people who came there than for its decor or refreshments, both Spartan at best. But it was the exclusive marriage mart for the
ton
, and she was frankly delighted to finally become one of its prizes. In fact, her need to find an acceptable husband for herself somehow seemed more urgent than ever when she was in the company of the handsome, charming, but unfortunately unavailable Lord Pelham.

It was very pleasant to find that she knew many of the young people there, at least slightly, mostly from her brief acquaintance with Pelham. Even more pleasant was it to find that she was greeted cordially by all, and with enthusiasm by some.

Sarah was there before them and greeted her joyfully. “Davida, you look marvelous,” she whispered. “I love the necklace. Is it new?”

“Yes, Papa gave it to me tonight.”

“It’s very wicked for lovely ladies to whisper secrets,” Arnold Lanscombe objected as he lifted Davida’s dance card from her hand. Arnold was correctly attired for the evening in the de rigeur knee britches, white tie, and black long-tailed dress coat. But ordinarily he was outrageously dressed in the dandy mode, complete with wild colors and shirt points so high and stiffly starched that he couldn’t turn his head.

He had chanced to call one afternoon when her father was in the drawing room, and Sir Charles had been forced to leave, as he explained later, or he would have laughed in Lanscombe’s face.

“Don’t give that fribble a second thought,” her father had warned her. It cost Davida no pain to assure him she would not.

“I say, no fair, Pelham.” Lanscombe used his quizzing glass to examine the dance card. “Down for two already.”

Davida reclaimed her card, and, after perusing it, shook her head. “One of them is a waltz.”

Pelham lifted his eyebrow in that challenging way that he had. “The waltz was approved by the patronesses last year.”

“I can’t waltz. That is, I haven’t been given permission yet,” Davida admitted, feeling more disappointed than she wanted to be. “I shouldn’t like to ask on my very first evening.”

Pelham only laughed. “A minor obstacle, Miss Gresham. I won’t mind asking at all, and I am sure I can obtain permission for you.”

When he got that self-assured note in his voice, Pelham seemed to Davida to be older than his twenty-five years, and she was reminded that here was no ordinary young man, but a peer of the realm, with responsibilities to help rule his country as well as to manage his lands and other investments. And how handsome he looked tonight in his stark black-and-white evening clothes, the knee breeches displaying strong, well-developed legs, and the long-tailed coat admirably tailored to display his broad shoulders.

Suddenly Davida frankly yearned to waltz with him, to be close to him and feel his hands on her for those few short, delicious minutes. The strength of her feelings was unexpected and unwelcome, and she exerted herself to direct her attention away from Lord Pelham, an intention difficult to carry out because he seemed determined to distinguish her with his interest. With a pang she realized all of this attention was for the sake of observers who would report his attentiveness to his true love.

Lady Elspeth Howard made a late entrance, very near the time when the doors to Almack’s would be firmly shut to all comers, no matter how distinguished. Davida knew the instant she arrived by the change in Lord Pelham, who had not quite succeeded in hiding the fact that he was watching for her appearance.

They were standing in a set to begin a country dance when Davida saw him look over her right shoulder and light up with pleasure. A slight turn of her head and she could see the Howards entering, escorted by Lord Whitham.

She glanced back and saw that Pelham had spotted Whitham, too. His face grew dark with anger. As their turn came to go down the dance, Davida asked him, “Is that not the same young man who was driving her in the curricle that day when . . .?”

“Yes,” snapped Pelham. “Stuffed shirt. Prosy bore. What can she see in him?”

“Smile while you rave, Lord Pelham, or she will see your heart on your sleeve again,” Davida told him.

Pelham glared at her for a second and then laughed. They were separated by the dance, but when they came together again, he thanked her. “I shall be merry as a grig. I won’t be caught wearing the willow for any woman!”

“That’s more like it.” Davida gave his hand an encouraging squeeze as they went down the dance again, and he rewarded her with a brilliant smile that caused her heart to give a sudden lurch.

Her next partner was Threlbourne, who frowned at the strains of the minuet. “That fusty old dance. I feel a right fool mincing about like that!”

“Let’s promenade, then,” Davida suggested. “I wouldn’t mind some lemonade, however warm it may be.”

Threlbourne quickly organized their refreshments and then led her to a grouping of young people who also appeared to disdain the minuet. It included Elspeth, Whitham, Sarah, and several others Davida did not know. One of these, a tall blond man as handsome as a Greek god, turned and clapped his strong hand on Threlbourne’s shoulder as they approached. “I shall even invite Gilbert, if he’ll introduce me to this lovely lady he’s escorting.” The look the Adonis was giving her was both assessing and approving.

“Curzon! They let you in here? Shan’t introduce a loose fish like you to such a proper young lady.”

“Never mind, do it myself. Harrison Curzon at your service.” He made an elaborate leg and then gave Davida a look so warm it put her to the blush.

“I shouldn’t reward such boldness, but I suppose I can trust the patronesses not to admit you if you are too dangerous to know. I’m Davida Gresham.” She sketched him a curtsy, dropping her eyes in embarrassment at his avid gaze.

“Too dangerous to know! That’s what Caro Lamb said of Byron. I promise you, Miss Gresham, I do not aspire to emulate
that
creature.” He turned back to her escort. “Tell you what—I’ll invite you along anyway, Threlbourne, if you’ll promise to bring Miss Gresham.”

“Invite me where? What’s up?”

“Oh, Elspeth and Harry were just saying how boring all these balls and routs were becoming,” Sarah interjected. “Harry is getting up a picnic on his parents’ grounds at Elmwood, as a change of pace.”

The minuet had just ended, and Pelham had strolled casually up to the group, his partner, Mary Hollings, on his arm. “A picnic? Sure to rain on any day on which
you
plan a picnic, Harry.”

“No, Monty, with Lady Elspeth giving it her blessing, it wouldn’t dare.”

Elspeth smiled and looked enticingly at Pelham. “Of course it wouldn’t. Do say you’ll join us, Monty, Mary. Everyone is coming.”

Pelham moved to her side. “Picnics aren’t exactly in my line, but I could be convinced.”

Elspeth looked up at him, and Davida felt a tightening in her chest that constricted her breathing. What a lovely picture they made, both so young and attractive, looking admiringly into each other’s eyes.

“I say, do you feel somewhat
de trop
?” Threlbourne drawled to the company at large. Knowing chuckles answered him as the group broke up, leaving Pelham and Elspeth standing together.

Threlbourne returned her to her mother, chatting amiably. When she turned, she realized that Harrison Curzon had followed them. He allowed himself to be introduced to her mother and then turned to her, eyes of ice blue compelling her attention. “Miss Gresham, do you consider our impromptu introduction sufficient grounds to grant me a dance?” He held out his hand hopefully for her dance card.

Davida accepted with pleasure. He was the first young man other than Pelham who could make her heart race with a smile and put her to the blush with a look. Furthermore, there was something very particular in his manner toward her that was encouraging.

She knew who he was, of course. Who did not? The handsome blond could hardly move without his actions being reported in the newspapers. His father was a mere baronet for life, but as wealthy as the Golden Ball, it was said. If he wanted a hereditary title, all he had to do was loan Prinny more money. Harrison Curzon was considered one of the prizes on the marriage mart. At thirty, he was believed to be seriously looking for a wife, too.

Davida’s pleasure in his interest was inexplicably washed away in the next instant when she saw Pelham and Elspeth waltzing together. It was the first waltz, the one he’d claimed he would dance with her.

Davida was not one to allow herself the megrims. She threw herself into light flirtations with the several young men who had gathered around her and Sarah as they waited out the forbidden waltz.

The dance Curzon had claimed turned out to be a boulanger. Davida was quite a good dancer and was pleased to find Curzon willing to attempt the showy, difficult dance. They spurred each other on, it seemed, as both grew very inventive with their steps. When it was over, they almost collapsed on each other, laughing.

“This is no dance for the faint of heart,” Davida gasped.

“No, indeed, nor for the shy, retiring type either.” Curzon smiled in appreciation of his partner.

“Are you suggesting that I am bold, sir?” Davida was just sufficiently touchy on the subject of her behavior to be nettled. She plied her fan with rather more vigor than the heat of the room required, giving Curzon a challenging glance over the gilded ivory tips.

“No more than is pleasing. I find little enjoyment in the company of shrinking violets.”

Curzon’s icy blue eyes seemed to darken as he looked down at her. “I hope you won’t mind if I tell you that you are quite the most attractive creature to grace Almack’s this season. Will you do me the honor of driving out with me tomorrow?”

Davida trembled a little at the warmth of that look, which seemed to suggest something far more improper than a drive. “I regret that I am promised tomorrow, Mr. Curzon.”

“Then the day after or the day after! Please, my life ceases to have meaning until you name the day.” He accompanied his words with an extravagantly prayerful gesture and twinkling eyes.

She smiled and cut her eyes up at him. “Well, then, I believe your life must be quite meaningless until Monday.”

“So cruel, and yet so kind.” He raised her hand to his lips and then surrendered her reluctantly to her next partner.

Davida was in such a whirl of partners and dances that she quite forgot Pelham until the strains of a waltz again relegated her to the sidelines. Then she saw him bearing down on her, purpose in his stride.

“This nonsense must stop,” he asserted, taking her hand and placing it on his arm before leading her across the room so quickly she almost had to run to keep up. Their destination was Lady Jersey, who looked at both of them with teasing eyes as she acknowledged Pelham’s bow. “What do you want, Monty, as if I didn’t know?”

“Really!” Princess Esterhazy eyed them with disfavor. “ ’Tis only her first visit to Almack’s. You shouldn’t even ask.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Jersey responded. “She’s a sensible, prettily behaved gel, and Monty is . . .”

“A pet of yours,” the Princess snapped.

“Yes, he is.” Lady Jersey’s eyes were warm as she looked at Lord Pelham in a way that suddenly made Davida uncomfortable. Hadn’t she heard whispers about Lady Jersey’s fondness for younger men?

But in a second the look had changed to one of amused toleration. “Do go on and dance and stop hanging about, children.”

Pelham smiled and bowed slightly before turning and sweeping Davida onto the floor, which was already crowded with swiftly moving couples.

It was Davida’s first waltz with anyone other than her dancing master or her father. It took her several moments to settle into the rhythm of the music, to relax and begin moving as one with Pelham. She found the sensation of being so close to him both unnerving and delicious.

When she finally felt she had herself in hand, she dared to look at him. He was not very much taller than she. It seemed to her as she lifted her face that all he would have to do would be to bend his head slightly and he could kiss her quite easily.

This disquieting thought caused her to gasp and miss her step. Pelham had been gazing into the middle distance, a vague smile on his lips. Now he glanced down. “Did I step on your toes?” he asked, concerned.