Loving a Fearless Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book(7)

“Or maybe you should run back to Somerset knowing you are never going to succeed here. I can’t think of a single gentleman wasting his time with the likes of you. I certainly wouldn’t be seen with you. It would scream ‘I’m a loser and can’t get a real girl’ to everyone in the ballroom,” Henry said, back from making someone else miserable.

Edward’s face was red and his eyes piercing. “May we step away for a moment Henry?”

Henry opened his mouth to object, but Edward grabbed his arm, to what seemed to Penelope a very tight grip, given the wince on Henry’s face. They walked out of hearing distance but came back a moment later, Henry excusing himself and disappearing.

“That was successful,” Penelope said to Edward. “What did you say?”

“I threatened to make him the laughing stock of the ton, spreading a rumour of his unfortunate rash.”

Penelope laughed. “Oh, Edward. That’s awful.”

“And effective.”

A gentleman approached Edward, cutting off any more talk of rashes.

He bowed. “Lord Balfour?”

Edward gave him a welcoming smile even though the young gentleman looked nervous and awkward. “Yes. To whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“I am Lord Alfred. I would like to ask for a dance with your sister.”

Edward wasn’t sure if he heard Alfred or Hapless but saw no reason to turn the young man down. Lord Alfred was of medium height with a very round, boyish face. His hair was auburn, a shade that on him made him look even younger. His pale skin lit up with red blotches most of the time he was talking with anyone. He had a sheen of sweat on his brow and a blotchy red stain on both his cheeks, no doubt from nerves. Thank God Penelope was wearing gloves because Edward was sure Lord Hapless had sweating, clammy hands.

“Certainly.” He turned to Penelope, the look on her face designed to melt his skin. “Lady Penelope, may I introduce Lord Alfred?”

Penelope curtsied, and Lord Alfred bowed. He held her hand to lead her to the dance floor. Edward watched on knowing he would have hell to pay.

Cecilia came and stood next to Edward. “I’m not sure your sister will forgive you. I’m not sure it was wise to show her to the entire ballroom as desperate. We all know he’s practicing on her. An untried young buck such as he could bring her down a notch.”

Edward sighed. “I thought of that too. Should she be on the sidelines or out on the dance floor dancing, making conversation? Alfred might spread the good word about how charming she is.”

“Yes, Edward. To his equally unfortunate friends.”

Edward looked at his mother. “Who is to say they are all unsuitable? Are we doing to Alfred what others in this ballroom are doing to Penelope? He may have a handsome, intelligent friend meant for Penelope.”

Cecilia sighed, “You’re right. Appearances are quite powerful.”

“Yes, Mother, they are.”

***

Cecilia eyed Henry. He stood too close to the girls, and they politely leaned back. She thought he was scaring off the gentlemen who would otherwise want to approach the girls. When she looked at Henry, she saw the same thing she always saw, a man with little regard for life and a potential wife beater. Cecilia wasn’t overly fond of Kitty Pembroke, but she would have a talk with Lady Pembroke about Henry’s inclinations without somehow putting herself in jeopardy with Avery.

Cecilia put her hand on Edward’s arm and smiled. He looked around then and nodded. He managed to extricate the girls from Henry and increase their visibility by walking them to the lemonade table. Standing slightly to the side of the table, they summarised their night so far.

Isabel was the fortunate one to have danced with four gentlemen. All were to her liking. Kitty danced three times and liked two of the gentlemen she met. Penelope and Dinah both danced twice. Dinah shrugged her shoulders, indifferent to her dance partners. Penelope was just happy to be asked.





Chapter 3


Nash dragged his feet. He called for his carriage before he talked himself out of going to the ball. There must be a better way to meet a lady. And he had to marry a titled lady to produce an heir acceptable to the ton and the House of Lords.

At twenty-six, he couldn’t put it off any longer. He was the Duke of Norfolk with no brothers or sisters. It was his responsibility to produce an heir, more’s the pity.

He was late. Not terribly late, but the dancing had begun, and the ballroom was full. Actually, the ballroom was more than full. A challenge to be sure.

He’d start glad-handing his peers. He should have checked with his friends to see if they were going to attend. It was going to take some time for him to develop a system.

His peers were all welcoming. Some even introduced him to their eligible sisters or offspring, none of whom he had any interest in. He drifted from one group of peers to another, enjoying their company but annoyed that he was not working toward his goal.

Nash saw his school friends standing together in the corridor. They were all dressed in their finest with a drink in hand. He approached and slapped Harriman on the back.

“I know you went to a good university, so you can’t be so stupid to know the girls and dancing are in the ballroom,” he said, pointing his chin toward the music.

Harriman rolled his eyes, “Which is precisely why we are out here. Are you going into the lion’s den?”