Page 14 of Most Ardently (Return to Culloden Moor #5)
14
ALL THINGS LAVENDER
* * *
T he grand hall of Brigadunn hummed with music and laughter. Brass chandeliers held hundreds of candles. Their light reflected from jeweled necks and polished silver alike. But for the first time, Violet truly appreciated the hard work that made all those reflections possible.
A string quartet played a lively Scottish reel with notes so high and sharp she could almost see them flying around the room like so many excited bees.
She had yet to see Louis, so when she was invited to dance by another, she had no reason not to accept.
* * *
Louis stood at the edge of the dance floor with his gaze fixed on Violet as she moved through the intricate steps with her current partner, a young viscount whose name Louis had already forgotten. The violet silk of her gown caught the candlelight with each turn, making her seem to shimmer like a jewel among pebbles.
He couldn’t explain his own reluctance to speak with her. Perhaps he felt unworthy when faced with the butterfly he’d only known dressed in more mothlike wings. This beauty was a stranger to him now.
“You might try speaking to her rather than merely observing.” Stanley handed him a glass of punch.
Louis accepted it with a nod. “I admit it. I am terrified.”
“The problem is you have to get close enough to see the woman you know. Trust me.”
“It would be a great disservice is I distracted her from someone more…”
“Worthy?”
“I was going to say entailed.”
Stanley snorted and choked on his drink. “I say, man. What has money to do with love?”
“Love?”
“Yes. It’s that ball of red fire you feel in your chest when you look at her. It’s the rage you feel when you watch another man take her hand. When she smiles at him, if only to be polite. That, my friend, is love.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “It’s also what makes a man beg favors he can never repay, to make a certain woman happy.”
Louis nodded. “Quite so.” He dragged a breath deep into his lungs and shook himself. If he didn’t approach her soon, her feelings would be hurt, and he couldn’t allow that.
Harcourt joined them. “Astley, old fellow, your constant observation has half the room speculating about your sudden interest in the mysterious Miss Cottsweather.”
Louis dragged his attention away from her. “What are they saying?”
“That Baron Astley has found himself enchanted by a country neighbor. Love at first sight, the ladies say, then they sigh rather loudly. You’re the hero of the ball and you have yet to ask anyone to dance. Others are saddened that Lady Grey’s matchmaking attempts have come to naught. You may damage her reputation before she has one.”
Louis frowned. “Violet is not a topic for idle gossip.”
Both men laughed.
“Everything and everyone is a topic for idle gossip at events such as these,” Stanley countered. “Though, speculation about you distracts any from noticing how much Miss Cottsweather resembles one of the housemaids. Thus far, the staff has kept her secret.”
Louis's frown deepened. “Will that cause trouble for her?”
“No one will believe such a thing after she is seen dancing not once, but twice with the Duke of Rochester. She will simply be another addition to our circle. None will question her pedigree. Besides, most of these people are too self-absorbed to notice servants at all, let alone remember their faces.”
As they spoke, a stir near the entrance drew their attention. Lady Grey entered, accompanied by a striking young woman Louis had not seen before. The newcomer was elegantly dressed in pale blue silk that complemented her fair coloring perfectly. Diamonds glittered at her throat and wrists, understated but clearly valuable.
“Ah,” Stanley murmured. “The famous Miss Helena Winthrope has arrived at last.”
Louis stiffened. “The heiress from Edinburgh?”
“The same,” Stanley confirmed. “Rumor has it that her father's shipping interests bring in over thirty thousand pounds yearly. Precisely the sort of connection Mercy had in mind for you.”
Louis watched as Mercy guided Miss Winthrope through the crowd, greeting various guests and pausing for only the briefest conversations. They were clearly making their way toward him. And when his eyes caught Mercy’s, her expression left little doubt about her intentions.
“Stanley,” Louis said quietly. “I would be in your debt if you would ask Miss Cottsweather to dance the next set.”
Stanley raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I fully intended to.”
As Stanley moved away to intercept Violet at the conclusion of her current dance, Mercy arrived with her companion.
“Louis,” she said brightly. “May I present Miss Helena Winthrope? Miss Winthrope, my cousin, Louis Condiff, Baron Astley.”
Louis bowed formally. “Miss Winthrope. Welcome to Brigadunn.”
“Lord Astley,” she replied, her voice cultured and pleasant. “Lady Grey has spoken highly of you.”
“My cousin is too kind,” Louis said, shooting Mercy a pointed look that she ignored completely.
“Miss Winthrope has just enjoyed her first Season,” Mercy continued. “While Astley’s first social season will come next spring. Perhaps you could give him some advice.”
The young woman smiled, prepared to engage in the expected social dance of connections and shared references. Yet Louis found his attention drifting across the room to where Stanley and Violet joined the set forming for the next dance.
As if sensing his distraction, Miss Winthrope followed his gaze, and she smiled. “A country dance,” she observed, hinting that she would be willing to dance if only he’d ask.
Mercy beamed at this perfect opening, but Louis had already formulated his escape. “I regret that I must decline, Miss Winthrope. I promised the next dance to Lady Northwick. But perhaps later in the evening?”
Without waiting for a response, he bowed again and moved away, leaving Mercy looking distinctly displeased. He made his way to where Livvy Northwick sat watching the dancers, her pregnancy precluding active participation.
“Rescue me,” he murmured as he took the chair beside her.
Livvy laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Running from Mercy's latest sacrificial lamb, are we?”
“Too obvious?”
“Only to those of us with eyes.” She laughed. “You must dance with her at least once, you realize?”
“Miss Cottsweather?”
“Miss Winthrope. You should have just taken your medicine and had done with it.”
Louis glanced toward Violet, who was now moving through the dance with Stanley as her partner. “I have yet to speak with her, you know.”
“Miss Winthrope?”
“Miss Cottsweather.”
“Oh, we know.” Georgetta, the Duchess of Rochester joined them and Louis gave her his seat. “Everyone in the room knows. I have never witnessed such wagering at a ball, for heaven’s sake. You must do something, Lord Astley, so accounts can be settled.”
“Fine.” He tugged at his sleeves. “I shall invite Miss Winthrope to join me in the next set. But the rest of the night is my own.”
“Well done, you.” Georgetta smiled at him intensely until he turned away. A short while later, as he led Miss Helena Winthrope onto the dance floor, he caught sight of Livvy handing a small purse to the duchess.
Do something so accounts can be settled, she’d said. It hadn’t occurred to him she was referring to her own. And now he wondered what sort of wagers the rest of his friends had made. It was a pity he couldn’t have bet on himself.