Page 21

L ady Skye’s ball was crowded, as usual, and tonight Tiffany had barely had the chance to catch her breath. Men she’d rarely spoken to all season had filled her dance card, except the one man who mattered—Wolf. He appeared to be absent this evening. Perhaps he was seeking out Mr. Sprat. Surely not at night?

“He’s not here,” Claire muttered. “So stop searching the room, it’s being noted.”

Before she could respond, an excited Valora appeared at her side. “Julian told Serena about a curious wager posted in the betting book at White’s.”

“Is it our wager?” Tiffany asked excitedly.

Valora looked like a preening peahen. “Yes, and apparently it’s the talk of the clubs. Who would dare challenge these four men.”

Lord Julian Montague, the second son of the Marquess of Lorne, had married Valora’s sister a few months ago. Serena had been instrumental in bringing the group of ladies together. It was her idea to form the investment club. She didn’t come to the meetings as often now, too content in matrimonial bliss with the love of her life. However, as a married woman, Serena was extremely helpful in gathering information that young unmarried ladies were not party to.

“And, I have initiated my first prank on Vale. I told Lady Dourest that Lord Vale thought he could commission a more flamboyant waistcoat then Prinny. I may have suggested that Prinny challenge him to a reveal.” Lady Dourest was rumored to be Prinny’s latest mistress, and while Prinny wore the most outlandish waistcoats, Vale preferred the elegance of plainness. “Lady Dourest loved the idea and she’s already whispered in Prinny’s ear. I expect a challenge may be issued this very night.” Valora could hardly hide her glee.

“Vale’s going to have to make a waistcoat of many colors and wear it in public,” Farah said in delight. “He’ll hate that and I want to be there to witness his embarrassment.”

“And loss,” Valora added. “There is no way he’ll make the most flamboyant waistcoat to outshine Prinny. He can’t win. It’s not done to wager with the future King of England and win.”

The giggling grew louder until a hush fell over the ballroom. Standing at the top of the stairs, very late in his attendance, was the Marquess of Wolfarth, searching the crowd, and everyone knew when he’d found his prey, because a seductive smile spread over his face. The crowd turned to see whom he was seeking out and all eyes fell on Tiffany.

He made his way down the stairs, guests parting in his wake as he strode purposefully toward Tiffany. She stood on the edge of the ballroom with her friends, her face heating. Soon, every fan was fluttering with women twittering behind them. Lady Vale, Valora’s mother, moved to hover over the young ladies.

“My, Tiffany. You have collected quite the suitor. Has he talked with Marlowe?”

Tiffany choked back the words I hope not . “I have no idea what you mean, Lady Vale.”

Valora’s mother looked quizzically at her. “But Valora mentioned Wolfarth had also taken you for a ride in the park. Plus, I remember he danced with you at the ball the other night and was in your box at the opera. He is courting you, dear girl.”

She could hardly argue with the lady. Most of the ton had made the connection. There was a courtship in play and the Marquess of Wolfarth was finally hunting a wife. What most of them were probably thinking was, why Miss Tiffany? She was.

Valora’s mother addressed Claire. “He is best friends with Marlowe so it would seem natural to align the families, but I did think it might have been Claire. Has Marlowe got other plans for you?”

“I don’t believe my brother is aware of any formal courtship with Lord Wolfarth,” Claire said.

This was the exact talk Tiffany hated. Women were to be shoved off into marriage by fathers, brothers and guardians. Why couldn’t a woman make up her own mind as to whom to marry? There’d likely be much happier marriages and fewer mistresses.

Lady Vale stepped forward. “Oh, since your mother’s death, Fane has been most neglectful of you young ladies. I shall handle the situation and talk to him immediately. It’s high time all you ladies found husbands. My daughter is becoming known for her refusals. Vale is too lenient. Lord Marlowe should be aware that his friend is courting Miss Tiffany.”

Tiffany wanted to run. And fast, but it was too late.

“Lady Vale, how lovely to see you looking as beautiful as ever this evening,” Wolf said as he bowed low over her hand.

“You flatter me, my lord. Which of these lovely ladies are you really here to see?”

“My apologies for my late attendance, but I was hoping Miss Tiffany had a dance left on her card?”

Before she could say that he was the last man she’d dance with this evening, and that her card was full, Lord Templeton appeared at her elbow. “My dance, I believe, Miss Tiffany.”

She beamed at Templeton as if he were her savior. “Oh, lovely!” She slipped her hand through his arm and let him lead her onto the floor. She tried to ignore the vision that was Wolfarth, but to her horror, he was deep in conversation with Lady Vale, who was gesturing wildly with her fan. Tiffany couldn’t bear to think what she might be saying. If Fane learned of Wolf’s courtship, he would pressure her to accept.

“You seem decidedly preoccupied this evening,” Lord Templeton said in passing as they twirled. “Please don’t shatter my heart and confirm Wolfarth’s suit is in your favor.”

She thought to laugh before she saw the serious look on Templeton’s face. “I had no idea you cared, my lord. I think this is the first evening we have danced together let alone conversed.”

His mouth dropped open at her rudeness. “It would seem Wolfarth will have to teach you your place.”

“I’m quite sure I am well aware of my place.” And it would not be married to a man like Lord Templeton. But could it be married to a man like Lord Wolfarth?

Templeton snorted. “Why he’s interested in you is beyond imagining.”

“Perhaps you lack imagination?” She could barely hide her grin at the shock on his face. Please let the music end.

She peered over her shoulder once again and saw the man himself leaning against the wall, watching her with hooded eyes. Lady Vale was still talking to him but his sole focus was on Tiffany, and then, she noted to her horror, on Lord Templeton. She expected flames to burst from the top of Wolf’s head, such was the dangerous look he was giving her dance partner.

The dance finally ended and Wolf was at her side before she could blink.

“Templeton, I do hope you have not upset Miss Tiffany, for I may have to seek retribution.”

Oh, please. Tiffany rolled her eyes. She could most certainly handle anything Lord Templeton said to her. He’d not said anything that the whole ton were not thinking. To her surprise, Templeton began to splutter.

“I-I-I am a gent-gentleman.” He bowed to Tiffany and fled.

This time Tiffany wished to scoff, but with Wolf so on edge, it would be best to not cause a scene. Or more of a scene. Already most eyes were pointed in their direction.

Wolf led her back toward Lady Vale and her friends at the edge of the ballroom. “Did you need to do that?” she said. “You are making it very obvious what you are about, and I thought our agreement was that you would not put me in a position such that I could not decline your offer without ruining my reputation.”

“He insulted you.”

“How do you know?”

“I could see it on your face, in your eyes and the way you held your body. You stood straighter after one comment he made, your spine stiff as a ramrod. What did he say to you?” Wolf demanded.

Luckily they had reached the others and she didn’t have to answer.

“Goodness, Lord Wolfarth, that was quite the performance.” Lady Vale indicated the interest in the room. “I assume you will be seeking a meeting with Lord Marlowe tomorrow.”

Before Tiffany could protest, Wolf answered. “I assure you I will be paying a call on His Lordship as discussed.”

This would never do. She was being talked about, her future was being talked about, as if she had no voice. Tiffany wished she could leave, but one glance at her dance card…suddenly she felt a headache coming on. “Lady Claire and Miss Valora, I’m suddenly not feeling very well. I need to retire for the evening.”

“It’s obviously been an overwhelming evening for you, dear. I shall call for our carriage and Valora and I shall escort you both home.” With that, Lady Vale led her and Claire away, leaving Wolf alone. As she made the top of the stairs she couldn’t stop herself from looking back, and Wolf was no longer alone. Served him right. Mothers with daughters in tow crowded around him, and for the first time since he’d entered the ballroom, she giggled.