A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(28)

What would Miss Grey do? Would she ignore Dinklage? Or carry on with her flirtations as though his mother were not watching them with hawk eyes?

Miss Wilhern was looking suspiciously at Miss Grey now, and he realized he was being rude by ignoring his partner. He focused his attention on Miss Wilhern for the rest of the dance.



Julia was hoping this ball in the crowded assembly rooms would somehow erase the terrible memory of the last ball, when her aunt had humiliated her and Mr. Edgerton had frightened her.

So far, her hopes had been dashed as she tried her best to ignore Mr. Dinklage’s mother, who was staring hard at Julia every time she glanced her way. Mr. Dinklage looked quite uncomfortable. Perhaps he wouldn’t even speak to her.

She didn’t feel as if she owed Mr. Dinklage anything, neither loyalty nor even particular civility. And if his mother was going to glare at her all night, Julia would show her that she was not intimidated by her cold stares and was quite capable of pretending not to even see her. But if Mr. Dinklage could marry her, despite his mother’s glares, and if she were able to feel some affection for him, her troubles would be over, as far as her uncle’s pressuring her to marry Mr. Edgerton.

At present, Julia was enjoying a conversation with Mr. Langdon’s sister, Leorah.

“Julia, I must teach you to shoot a bow and arrow. Archery is such fun.”

“I’m not sure I would recommend my sister as a tutor,” Mr. Langdon said over Julia’s shoulder.

“Why ever not?” Julia asked, turning to include him in the conversation, guiltily realizing she had hoped he would come and join them.

“My brother enjoys maligning me,” Leorah said, “but he can’t say anything against my archery skills, as I’m a much better shot than he is.”

“Yes, but she often gets bored with shooting at a target and ends up shooting birds and small animals.”

Julia almost laughed. “Is this true?”

“My brother loves to exaggerate. I haven’t shot any game in several years, not since I was a child. But I have to admit, it is much more fun to shoot at a moving target than one sitting still.”

Julia did laugh then. Mr. Langdon smiled down at her. She shouldn’t be laughing with the man. She would simply have to focus on Leorah and not laugh out loud. But whenever she was with Leorah and her brother, the siblings always seemed to end up talking about each other—and making Julia laugh.

“I would be willing to try archery, if you were willing to teach me,” Julia said to Leorah. “What other pastimes do you enjoy?” She could hardly wait to hear what Leorah would say.

“I detest sewing and needlework of every kind,” Leorah answered, forcing Julia to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep the giggle inside. “I’d rather have a hot poker in my eye than sit and try to sketch a landscape. And I am negligent of practicing any musical instrument. But I do love a good gallop through the countryside. I have the most wonderful black stallion, Buccaneer, back home in Lincolnshire.” Leorah leaned in conspiratorially. “He has as much spirit as any other stallion, but he loves me dearly. In fact, Bucky won’t let anyone else ride him.” Leorah sighed. “I can’t ever imagine loving a man as much as I love my sweet Buccaneer.”

“Really, Leorah. The things you say.” Mr. Langdon was frowning, but there was a twinkle in his eye as he gazed down at his sister. “Your husband will require quite a strong constitution. I pity the man.”

“Why should I ever have a husband?” Leorah tossed her head. “I plan to live with you and your wife and make sure she stands up to you and never allows you to get away with anything.”

Mr. Langdon grunted and scowled. Julia was hard-pressed not to laugh again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to stop herself.

“Look, now,” Mr. Langdon said. “You’ve scandalized poor Miss Grey.”

“Not a bit,” Julia replied. “I find Miss Langdon’s attitude refreshing.” Julia smiled at her new friend.

“You see?” Mr. Langdon looked at his sister. “You have been a bad influence, and now Miss Grey will ride roughshod over poor—over her own husband someday.”

Of course he had been about to say “over poor Mr. Dinklage.” Julia pretended not to notice his insinuation. “I think it a very good thing for a woman to have gumption and spirit like your sister, and I will not hear a word against her.”

“Gumption and spirit, you call it? Her governess called it wild abandon and disregard for decorum.”

Leorah laughed, obviously enjoying her brother’s accusations and not the least bit repentant.

A young man was walking toward them, his eyes fixed on Leorah. Julia nodded in his direction. “I believe that gentleman wishes to speak with you.”

Leorah turned, and the man asked her to dance. She accepted and excused herself.

Mr. Langdon looked at Julia. “Would you do me the honor, Miss Grey?”

Julia nodded and let him lead her onto the floor. She would dance her one dance with Mr. Langdon and be done with it.

The dance was a reel, so they didn’t have much of an opportunity for conversation, but even when they did, they didn’t speak. Julia thought it safer not to, and Mr. Langdon didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood either—although the way he was looking at her made her feel flattered and nervous at the same time. But he did not look at her in the way of Mr. Edgerton, who made her feel exposed and uncomfortable, or Mr. Dinklage, whose expression was one of painfully repressed longing. Mr. Langdon’s look made her feel . . . pretty.