A Spy's Devotion (The Regency Spies of London #1)(37)

“Yes, I thank you.” She mustn’t think about how grateful she was to Mr. Langdon or she might cry. Instead, she concentrated on her anger and loathing for Mr. Edgerton.

A lady never showed emotion at a public gathering. How many times had she lectured Phoebe on this very matter? But Phoebe never had to worry about men like Mr. Edgerton trying to force her to meet him in the courtyard, or her father trying to force her to marry someone she could not love.

Oh dear Lord!

It suddenly hit her like a boulder against her chest—Mr. Langdon had already danced with her! She was dancing with him for the second time that night.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


Julia’s panic rose. Mr. Langdon never danced with anyone a second time. Everyone would see. Julia’s aunt, Phoebe, and everyone else would say he was singling her out. The gossip would spread from one end of the party to the other by the end of the dance.

Julia glanced around her. Was she imagining it, or was everyone staring at them and whispering?

And she had forgotten about her aunt’s lemonade. There Aunt Wilhern sat, scowling darker than anything Julia had seen before. Nearby, Phoebe watched them, a stricken look on her face.

Oh, this couldn’t be happening. It must be a nightmare. She had dreamed this nightmarish moment before. It must be a dream.

But there was Mr. Langdon looking down at her with a strange expression on his face. She could feel the warmth of his fingers as he took her hand and guided her through the steps of the dance.

Should she run away? No, that would draw even more attention to the two of them. Was it possible that Mr. Langdon didn’t realize what he had done? He had made her the object of all his admirers’ jealousy, not to mention drawing speculation from every woman, young and old, in the room. But that would be nothing, was nothing, compared to what her cousin and aunt must be thinking, how hurt Phoebe must feel, hurt and betrayed.

Oh, the tears that would flow tonight. How the Wilherns would hate her.

“If I may ask,” Mr. Langdon said quietly as they waited for their turn in the round, “what was Mr. Edgerton saying to you?”

Must she repeat that horrible man’s words? “He was . . . he was being most ungentlemanly.” She would remain dignified and only state the facts. She must pretend a coolness she didn’t feel. “I have made it quite clear to Mr. Edgerton that I do not wish to accept his advances, but he actually laid a hand on me in a most ill-mannered way and insisted I go out to the courtyard with him. I am afraid I shall have to tell my uncle about his behavior.”

Of course, she wasn’t at all sure she would mention the incident to her uncle. She was almost as afraid of her uncle as she was of Mr. Edgerton, and Mr. Langdon might not even believe that she was entirely innocent in the matter. But for the moment, she must remember that she was in a public place, with a man her cousin was violently in love with. She must behave with cool decorum until she could finish this dance and plaster herself to Felicity’s side for the rest of the ball.

“You should tell your uncle about Edgerton’s behavior. I shall speak to him as well. And if he troubles you again, I wish you to tell me.”

If they had been alone, or walking down the street toward the Bartholdys’, she might have said, “You, Mr. Langdon?” in a teasing tone. But as she was, at the moment, trapped in a second dance with the much-desired Mr. Langdon, with Mrs. Wilhern and Phoebe looking at her as if she had just dashed Phoebe’s only hope for love and happiness, she set her face and eyes straight ahead and said woodenly, “You are very kind.”

During another lull in the dance, he asked, “Are you well, Miss Grey? You look pale.”

Perhaps he still didn’t realize. “Do you not know what everyone is whispering? I was too distracted at first to realize, but you already danced with me earlier, Mr. Langdon. You are dancing with me a second time.”

She half expected him to look startled, to be shocked at his blunder. But instead, he smiled. “Are you worried about that? Does it bother you so much?” She feared he would laugh out loud.

“Well, I—” She couldn’t very well say, “Phoebe will be heartbroken, and everyone will be gossiping that you intend to marry me!” Although it was the truth. “I didn’t know . . . you were aware . . .”

“I suppose the gossips will be speculating on our upcoming nuptials. Forgive me if I’ve put you in an awkward position, Miss Grey.” At least he finally realized the seriousness of what he had done.

At the end of the dance, Mr. Langdon thanked her, bowed to her with a tiny frown, and walked away. Was he angry with her? No, he probably regretted having danced with her a second time to get her away from Mr. Edgerton.

Julia nervously scanned the room for Phoebe. Her gaze flew to where Mrs. Wilhern had been sitting, but she was standing and walking away. Where was she going? Would Julia be left at the dance all alone, abandoned?



Nicholas had thought Miss Grey would be flattered that he was dancing with her a second time. She would realize how fond he was of her. He had half expected her to blush and look pleased. He wanted her to blush and look pleased.

Instead, she’d been horrified.

He could hardly blame her. It was rather thoughtless and indiscreet of him. He never danced with a lady more than once at a ball. It was not wise to do so, to create gossip and speculation, or false expectation in the lady. But her horror was quite extreme. Was there someone else whose attentions she wanted to claim? Or perhaps she was only afraid of upsetting her cousin Miss Wilhern.