The Season(40)

She’d just stood there, wavering in the dark, waiting for him to kiss her! Oh! What a fool she must have looked—she’d be surprised if Gavin hadn’t gone laughing to her brothers! Oooh…she could just imagine his response: Someone has to get that chit married off!

Yes, the entire experience was mortifying. She could feel her face flushing now just thinking about it. With a silent prayer of thanks for the dark carriage, she willed her blush away—he clearly wasn’t thinking about the dinner…so she wouldn’t think about it either. Even if it killed her.

Clearing her throat, she forced out, “Thank you for escorting me tonight.”

“Of course, Alex. No need to thank me. I was planning to attend, and I know how much you would have hated to miss Nicola’s ball.”

“That’s my reason, yes. But why are you here?”

Gavin leaned back on the seat and stretched out his long legs in front of him. “The most common reason of all, I imagine.”

She cocked her head. “Which is?”

“Mothers. And their infernal quest to have their sons matched.”

She smiled. Her first authentic one since the beginning of the evening. “Yours as well?”

“Of course. And, because she is in mourning this season, she has little else to do besides dream up places for me to go to meet my future wife. If you ask me, the mourning requirements for widows with children of a marriageable age should be severely limited.”

“So why attend the balls at all? She’s in the North Country, for goodness sake. She can’t force you.”

“First, you seem to forget my mother’s ability to wield the sword of guilt. She’s desperate for news of the season, so I feel obligated to provide it.

“More than that,” he continued, “she’s now hounding me to step into my duties as earl and, while I feel certain that if she were here every day I could roundly ignore her, the fact that she is absent leads me to at least humor her. Well, that in addition to the fact that I’m certain she’s got an army of spies larger than the War Office and I’m afraid of her wrath.”

Alex dipped her head respectfully. “A good son. Truly.”

“Mmmmm.” His reply was noncommittal. “Of course, there is a reason that doesn’t have to do with my mother.”

Alex’s eyebrows rose with her curiosity as the carriage slowed to a halt.

“I couldn’t very well let you attend a ball unescorted.” The words were still hanging in the air as the door to the carriage opened and Gavin stepped down onto the gravel walkway leading to Salisbury House, turning back to offer his hand to help her descend from the vehicle.

As she did, she spoke with a tone laced with humor. “That would have, indeed, been a risk. Imagine the trouble in which I could find myself without you to watch over me.” She paused, pretending to consider the trouble in question, and with an exaggerated sigh, pointed out, “Your overwhelming desire to save me is rather unaccommodating, my lord.” She felt a flood of pleasure at his rich laughter and allowed herself to be escorted inside.

Inside, they were announced at the entrance to the ball and greeted by Lord and Lady Salisbury, an odd pair not simply because they were polar opposites—Lord Salisbury tall and reedlike with a somewhat unremarkable personality and his lady a rather small, rotund woman who was, quite possibly, the cheeriest soul in the ton—but also because they were thoroughly and publicly smitten with each other, even after six children, all of whom were completely embarrassed by their parents.

“My dears!” spoke Lady Salisbury in her typically excited fashion as she kissed Alex on both cheeks. “We are delighted to host you as always! Nicola has been waiting for you, Alex! But you will have to wait to see her! You have arrived just in time! The first waltz is starting now! You mustn’t miss it!”

And with a quick greeting for Lord Salisbury, they were swept up in a wave of people moving toward the dance floor. Lady Salisbury had been right—the music began immediately.

“Have you ever noticed,” Blackmoor offered, “that Lady Salisbury speaks not in sentences but in exclamations?”

Alex caught her giggle and turned an impish gaze on him. “My lord! Whatever do you mean?!”

His rich laughter swirled around them. “If I am damned for noting such a thing about such a kind woman, you are surely joining me for imitating her.”

The two relaxed and danced in companionable silence. Sneaking a glance up at Gavin, she attempted to discover some sign that the previous weeks’ events had rattled him at all. She couldn’t and, in that moment, whirling across the ballroom, she realized that she’d been silly to think that Gavin, this Gavin, whom she’d known all her life, might have given a second thought to her in any way other than as a very dear friend.

She sighed with twin relief and disappointment—relief because they wouldn’t have to talk about the incident and could go on as though it had never happened, and disappointment for the very same reasons.

The latter emotion frightened her slightly and led her to take leave of his company after the waltz to seek out Nicola Salisbury, whom she found without much difficulty, deep in conversation with Ella and Vivi, across the room.

Nicola had always been a welcome addition to their trio—a wickedly funny person who was always willing to say something outlandish. A Salisbury, Nicola’s pedigree and immense wealth required the rest of London society to tolerate her unique personality. Not that she cared a whit. She was one of the few people Alex knew who did and said whatever she liked and truly didn’t care what others thought of her—a rare quality in a member of the ton—and Alex had always quite liked her.