Regency Sting (16 page)

Jason looked at Peter affectionately and ruffled his hair, but he said nothing. Then, with a grin and a wink, he tucked his chapeau-bras under his arm and went out to meet his fate.

Twelve

The surprises in store for Anne were not all to be as pleasant as the first sight of Jason in his evening clothes had been. But at least the early part of the evening turned out beautifully. Jason, athough he ignored or forgot many of her instructions, seemed to do very well indeed. In fact, before the early dinner party had ended, it was clear to Anne that Lord Mainwaring was on his way to making a spectacular success.

Ostensibly, the guest of honor at the dinner party Lord and Lady Dabney held before the start of the ball (an intimate gathering of twenty-four diners, consisting of several members of the Dabney family and a few special guests) was the dowager Duchess of Richmond, but the guest who received most of the attention was the new Viscount from America. Lord Mainwaring drew all eyes the moment he entered, and the eyes rarely left him. When he was brought by his host to meet the guest of honor, the Duchess remarked in her piercing voice that the fellow certainly was “a big 'un.” She promptly asked the Viscount the question which everyone was wont to ask and which he was fast learning to dread: “Heavens, my lord, are
all
American men so tall?”

“Shucks, your grace,” he replied promptly, “
this
ain't tall. I'm nothin' but a runt back home.”

Anne froze, expecting a shocked silence, but Jason's quip was greeted by loud guffaws from the gentlemen, giggles from the ladies and an appreciative snort from the Duchess herself. The Duchess demanded his arm for the march to the dinner table (an honor which should have been given to her host, Lord Dabney, but which that neglected gentleman took in good part) and addressed most of her remarks to Jason all through dinner. The other guests vied with each other for his attention, asking him questions about America and hanging on his answers with flattering concentration. Lady Dabney's daughter, Amanda, clearly smitten, asked him coyly what he thought of English ladies as compared to American. “I find
all
ladies appealin', ma'am,” he said, as the others fell silent, listening in fascination to his response. “Of course, American girls don't look quite so slim as you English ladies.”

“Do you mean,” the girl persisted, “that American girls are … er … rounder?”

“Well, they appear so, I think. Their dresses don't seem to
cling
so closely to their forms. You English girls dress to look slim and make the
men
look 'round.”

Over the roar of laughter that greeted this sally, Anne distinctly heard the Duchess remark to Lady Dabney that the new Mainwaring was a wit.

By the time the dinner guests rose to go upstairs (for the ballroom, on the upper floor, was beginning to fill with newly arriving guests), Anne and Lady Harriet were light-headed with relief and gratification. Jason's success at dinner had been greater than either one of them had hoped. “Wasn't he marvelous?” Harriet whispered to Anne as they left the dining room. “He's bound to be the hit of the evening.”

“Yes, I think he may be—if only he doesn't spoil it all by saying something too outrageous or tripping over his feet on the dance floor,” Anne acknowledged.

“Then take him aside and
warn
him,” Lady Harriet suggested and, with a smile to Lord Dabney who had come alongside her, took his arm for the climb up the stairs.

Anne caught up with Jason before he'd started upstairs and drew him to the shadows behind the stairway. “I just want to compliment you. You are doing beautifully, my lord,” she whispered.

He cocked a suspicious eyebrow at her. “Butterin' me up, ma'am? I'm well aware that I said ‘shucks' at least twice.”

“I'm surprised to have to admit to you, sir, that no one seemed to mind that in the least. In fact, I believe they
like
your barbarous American tongue. Now, if you'll but remember to dance only the simplest of the country dances and to refrain from making any outlandish remarks when you're introduced to the Prince, I think we may brush through this evening very creditably.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Do you think so, ma'am?” he asked, his tone rather cool. “I reckon—I mean I
suppose
that is high praise, comin' from you. What sort of outlandish remarks do you think I'm likely to make that I should avoid?”

The expression lurking in the light-eyed, penetrating gaze he fixed on her face caught her attention. But she couldn't read it. “I think that if you merely answer ‘yes, your highness,' or ‘no, your highness,' to any remark the Prince makes, you'll be certain to make no slip.”

“I'll try to remember that,” he said drily and turned to go. But the expression in his eyes troubled her. Was he disappointed in her in some way? Or had she offended him?

She caught his arm. “Is anything the matter, Jason?”

“No, nothin',” he answered shortly. “Nothin' at all.”

She searched his face, vaguely troubled. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I had only hoped—” But he stopped himself.

“Hoped—?” she prodded.

His piercing look discomfitted her. “I'd hoped, ma'am,” he said wryly, “that by this time you'd have learned to feel some confidence in me.” He turned and went quickly up the stairs, leaving her staring after him in rather breathless and shamefaced confusion.

In the ballroom upstairs, the twenty-five musicians were already playing, and several couples were circling the dance floor. Lady Dabney's balls were always lavish to the point of ostentation. Thousands of candles glittered and twinkled, their light caught by the crystal prisms of the chandeliers and scattered in shimmering pinpoints all around the room. Liveried servants poured bubbling champagne into hundreds of glasses arranged on a number of refreshment tables. And streaming into the room in large numbers were the new arrivals, dressed in rich silks and velvets, sporting jewels and gold ornaments and adding to the air of opulence.

By the time Anne had recovered herself sufficiently to make her entrance, Lord Mainwaring had already taken a place on the dance floor, very properly squiring the daughter of his hosts, Miss Amanda Dabney. Anne found a chair near her stepmother and sat down to think; she needed a moment to mull over the meaning of Jason's remark. But she could not concentrate. She found her eyes riveted on her pupil on the dance floor. The figures of the country dance which they were performing were not difficult, but even so, Anne noted with surprise that Jason was executing them with remarkable aplomb. Her pupil was indeed a credit to her tonight, she thought, and she should certainly feel proud. But she didn't feel proud—it could not have been
she
who had taught him to dance like that!

Before she could solve what was beginning to seem like a puzzle, she became aware that someone was standing before her. She looked up to find Arthur smiling down at her. “Good evening,” he said happily. “I had hoped to see you here. Will you stand up with me for the next dance? The sets will form in a moment or two.”

The sight of Arthur Claybridge always made her heart flutter. Any girl's would. He was, as usual, the handsomest man in the room. His black evening coat set off his blond locks to advantage, and the grace of his carriage and the sweetness of his smile were enough to drive away the confusing depression which had settled upon her spirits since her bewildering conversation with Jason behind the stairway.

Anne gave Arthur her hand, and they walked slowly toward the dance floor. “I thought your mother objects to your standing up with me,” she reminded him.

“I don't care,” he said boldly. “I haven't seen you in more than a week, and I can't pass this opportunity by. Speaking of that unpleasant matter, however, reminds me that Lady Harriet may scold
you
for this. I don't wish to cause you unpleasantness. Shall I go away?”

“I doubt that Mama will even notice us,” Anne declared with a touch of resentment. “Her whole attention is fixed on Lord Mainwaring this evening.”

As the new sets formed, Anne noticed with surprise that Jason had joined the set with Cherry on his arm. The dance was a
boulangêre
, which required figures that Jason had never sufficiently mastered. With a sinking heart, Anne whispered a warning to Cherry to help him as much as possible. As the music began she offered a little prayer that Jason might not disgrace himself.

During the dance, she could not observe Jason well. Not only was she forced to pay attention to her own performance, but she had to converse with Arthur as well. He was attempting to use their meagre time together to discuss their plans. Anne tried to follow what he was saying, but the movements of the dance and her own attempts to see how Jason was performing prevented her from comprehending. “Please, Arthur,” she pleaded at last, “let's talk about this later, when we can find someplace out-of-the-way in which to sit down and converse properly.”

At the dance's end, Cherry, breathless and in high color, confided to Anne that Jason had managed the steps quite unexceptionally and had, at the same time, kept up a lively—indeed a flattering—conversation with her which she had very much enjoyed. “Really, Cherry?” Anne mused. “I can't understand it. I
know
that I was not so gifted a teacher as to have caused results like
this
!”

Arthur, noting that his mother was watching him from the sidelines, and not wishing her to fall into a state of apoplexy, relinquished Anne to a portly dandy named Percy Livermore for the next dance, promising to return to her side as soon as possible. But the dance had scarcely begun when it stopped abruptly. The musicians broke into “Rule, Britannia,” and the Prince Regent entered the room. He was followed by his entourage, a large group which included such notables as his brother Frederick, the Duke of York, and Lord and Lady Hertford.

Lord and Lady Dabney hurried to greet him. While they made their effusive obeisances, the entire assemblage formed two lines across the length of the room, leaving a wide aisle down the center. The Prince proceeded slowly down the aisle, acknowledging a friend here, kissing a lady's hand there, stopping to exchange pleasantries with his cronies or pausing to permit his host to introduce him to those whose acquaintance he had not made.

The Prince could, when he wished, behave with cordial familiarity, and this was one of those times. This sort of assemblage (where the surroundings were opulently tasteful and the guests glitteringly elegant) was the very thing he enjoyed. He beamed heartily as he walked down the line. As he approached the place where Lord Mainwaring was standing, Anne noticed with chagrin that Jason was accompanied by the obnoxious Alexandra de Guis. Lexis was looking breathtaking in a gown of silver gauze over green silk that clung so closely to her figure that Anne knew her petticoat had been damped.

The Prince was quite tall himself, and he took particular note of the stranger in the room who stood taller than he. “And who is that young giant?” he asked his host.

When the introduction had been made, and Jason had stepped forward and executed a faultless bow, the Prince smiled at him warmly. “So
you
are the American Viscount I've heard so much about. They tell me you're a bruising rider. I should like to ride with you one day.”

“I should be honored, your highness,” Jason answered comfortably.

“Tell me, Mainwaring, are all you Americans so tall?” the Prince asked inevitably.

“Yes, your highness, we are,” Jason answered with a twinkle that caused Anne (who knew that look meant mischief) to hold her breath in dread. “We
have
to be, you know.”

“
Have
to be?” the Prince asked, puzzled.

“Yes, indeed, your highness. If you British continue to molest us on the high seas, we shall have to trounce you again, so we encourage any and every physical asset in our men—even exaggerated growth such as mine.”

There was a moment of shocked silence while the Prince stared blankly at Lord Mainwaring. Then he burst into hearty laughter. “I say, Mainwaring, that's
good
!” he boomed jovially. “That's very good indeed.”

The rest of the assemblage was now free to join in the merriment, and while they gave way to their laughter, Anne breathed a sigh of heartfelt relief. But her ordeal was not over, for the Prince was not through with Jason. He became serious and fixed a sharp eye on the Viscount. “Were you trying to suggest, sir, that America intends to engage us in another war?” he asked interestedly.

“Well, your highness, as to that, I can't say. I don't believe America wants war. President Madison is trying hard to avoid it, being gifted with the two senses (beyond the usual five we all have in common) which Americans have in abundance but which, if you will forgive me for being blunt, I haven't noticed as being very evident in the British character.”

“Is that so?” demanded the amused Prince, recognizing the humorous glint in Lord Mainwaring's eye. “And which two senses are those?”

“
Horse
and
common
,” Jason responded brazenly.

The Regent roared, and all the onlookers joined in. Those people not close enough to hear pressed forward and asked the more fortunate ones to repeat the story, and for several minutes laughter continued to sound around the room. “I
like
this fellow,” the Regent announced to his retinue, putting his arm around Jason's shoulder. “Do you play cards, old fellow? Let's go off to the card room and test that common sense of yours.”

As the Prince and his circle made for the card rooms, with Jason in tow, Lady Harriet and Anne exchanged glances that spoke eloquently to each other their intense relief and sense of triumph. Jason's success was assured.

Some time later, Arthur found an opportunity to escort Anne to a small sitting room off the ballroom where they might have a moment of seclusion. There he sat down beside her on a sofa and faced her eagerly. “At last we can converse,” he said urgently. “I've thought of nothing all week but your news that Lord Mainwaring has agreed to support us. Anne, I cannot like it. It goes against my nature.”