A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(29)

Eventually she would have to face Mr. Dinklage as well as his mother, so for now she was content to enjoy silent camaraderie with Mr. Langdon.

When the dance was over, he took her hand and led her back to where the older ladies and chaperones were seated. He stared into her eyes and said softly, “I wish you well, Miss Grey.”

“Thank you, Mr. Langdon. And I you.”

He seemed to see someone over her shoulder, and his lips quirked upward in an ironic smile. He gave a quick nod to her and turned to leave.

“Miss Grey.”

Julia turned to find Mr. Dinklage standing behind her. “Good evening, Mr. Dinklage.”

“Good evening. I wonder if you would be so good as to allow me to introduce you to my mother.”

“Of course.” She placed her hand on his arm, and he led her to where his mother was sitting. Julia’s dread increased as she drew nearer to Mrs. Dinklage, whose eyes were locked on her in a cold, disagreeable expression.

Mr. Dinklage must have been feeling the same thing Julia was, for his steps were halting and reluctant, and she wished he’d just get on with it.

“Mother, I’d like to introduce Miss Julia Grey. Miss Grey, this is my mother, Mrs. Mary Dinklage.”

“How do you do?” Julia curtsied, but the woman still looked as though she’d bitten into a walnut shell.

“So this is Julia Grey. Who was your father, Miss Grey?” She spoke the name as if it were distasteful.

“Major William Grey, Mrs. Dinklage, of the eighth Infantry. My guardian, Mr. Robert Wilhern, is married to my aunt, my father’s sister.”

The old woman’s top lip seemed to shrug but without exposing her teeth, as if her shoes were pinching her toes.

“My son says you play and sing very well.”

Julia did not comment.

“Do you prefer my son, Miss Grey?”

Julia was shocked into speechlessness by the woman’s question.

“Because my son has formed an attachment to you that I find . . . disadvantageous. My son shall inherit his family’s ancient estate. The good name of Dinklage has survived centuries, Miss Grey. Who are the Greys? The Wilherns are a fine, old family, I’ll grant you, but you have no fortune, no parentage, no—”

“Excuse me, ma’am, but if it is your wish to insult me, I would prefer you do it in private. At present I am not inclined to discuss my family with you. You will excuse me.” Julia dropped a quick curtsy and walked away.





CHAPTER TWELVE


Julia’s knees knocked against each other as she walked. Her hands shook so violently she hid them in her skirt.

Never had Julia spoken in such a way to anyone, especially someone so much older! She could barely see where she was going as she walked away from Mr. Dinklage and his indignant mother.

She suddenly felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Felicity Mayson by her side.

“Good for you, Julia.” Felicity squeezed her arm.

“You heard? Did anyone else hear?”

“I don’t think so. But, Julia, I fear you will never be allowed to marry Mr. Dinklage now.”

What would Sarah Peck say? No doubt she would be upset that Julia had thrown away a chance to endear herself to Mr. Dinklage’s mother.

“I’m not sure any man is worth having a mother-in-law like that.”

Felicity pursed her lips in agreement as the two of them moved toward the refreshments table.

She didn’t feel anything for Mr. Dinklage. Was she a fool? But she knew she had done the right thing. She was proud of herself for standing up to the woman, and Leorah would be proud of her too. Perhaps now Mr. Langdon would stop teasing her about Mr. Dinklage.

She didn’t like hurting Mr. Dinklage, and it made her remember how Sarah had said it would be better to marry any available respectable man rather than become a governess. She had certainly destroyed the possibility of gaining Mrs. Dinklage’s approval. If she didn’t marry Mr. Dinklage, what other choice did she have, besides Mr. Edgerton? There were no other men offering for her hand. But then, perhaps Phoebe was nowhere near marriage either. If she could have a few more Seasons, Julia might meet another such Mr. Dinklage, but someone who would inspire her affection and regard, someone who was free to marry her.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Julia asked Felicity.

“No one asked me. Perhaps one of your admirers will ask me.”

Julia frowned as she sipped her lemonade. “What admirers?”

Felicity used her fingers to tick them off. “Mr. Dinklage, Mr. Edgerton, Mr. Langdon—”

“Sh! Don’t even say such a thing,” Julia whispered. “He isn’t interested in me. If he were, he’d dance with me twice instead of only once.”

They both smirked.

“Here comes one of them.” The smile disappeared from Felicity’s face. “Mr. Edgerton.”

Julia clenched her teeth. She would not stand up with the man. She didn’t care if she had to be uncivil to him.

“Miss Mayson. Miss Grey.” He nodded to each of them and then flashed his even white teeth at Julia.

“Mr. Edgerton.” Felicity greeted him, but Julia remained silent. An astute man might understand the hint, but Mr. Edgerton turned to Julia.

“Miss Grey, will you do me the honor of dancing the next set with me?”