It was time for a change of subject. “Your mother, sister, and Lytton arrived quite a while ago. What made you decide to come later?”
“I had some business to finish.”
A large part of Giff was envious of his friend, but soon he’d have responsibilities with which to occupy himself.
“Lord St. Albans.” Lady Markham strolled up to them. They were caught now. He knew better than to stop long enough to be noticed. “Please make your friend known to me.”
Giff smiled and bowed. “With pleasure. My lady, allow me to present Lord Montagu. Montagu, Lady Markham.”
His friend bowed. “Good evening, my lady. I trust my mother told you I would be a bit late.”
“She did.” Her ladyship’s smile reminded him of a cat’s that had caught her prey. “Now that you are here, I shall introduce you to a young lady who is in need of a dance partner.” She raised a brow a Giff. “You may come along as well, my lord.”
Damnation! Just what he’d hoped to avoid. Montagu was made known to a young lady, and Giff was introduced to Lady Prudence Lawler. Lady Prudence was very pretty with dark hair and brown eyes. Unfortunately, her complexion was sallow. He bowed as she curtseyed. “If your next set is free, may I claim it, my lady?”
Color rose in her cheeks and her lids lowered. “I would be delighted to stand up with you.”
Giff had barely noticed the lull in the music until it started again. “Shall we?”
Smiling, she took his arm, and he led her out to form the line for a country dance. “Are you enjoying your Season?” He didn’t know why he’d asked that when Lady Prudence had had to rely on their hostess to provide a partner for her.
“I am. We arrived just a few days ago, and I barely know anyone.”
“I am certain you will soon make the acquaintance of a great many people.” The steps separated them and brought them back together. Still, he didn’t have much about which he could converse with a young lady. “Have you heard that the king is requiring those peers attending his coronation to dress in Elizabethan costume?”
“Is he indeed?” Her smile grew. “How droll. Then again, he is known for his opulence.”
And spending money he didn’t have. “He is.”
“Will you attend?” she asked.
Not if he could find a way out of it. “I am as yet uncertain. My father will be there.”
“I will not be at the coronation itself, but we are attending one of the balls afterward. I think wearing an Elizabethan gown will be a great deal of fun.”
“It will certainly provide tailors the opportunity to find an inventive way to pad the hose.”
She giggled lightly. “Oh dear. I had not thought of that.”
Giff did not understand how the same conversation with Alice could have been so different. The set ended, and he made his way toward Alice’s group. He reached them at the same time as Lady Markham and Normanby.
“Lady Madeline”—her ladyship gathered Alice and her sisters with a smile—“and Lady Alice, may I present Lord Normanby? My lord, Lady Madeline Vivers and her sister, Lady Alice Carpenter.”
“My ladies, it is truly a pleasure to meet you.” Normanby bowed. “Dare I ask if one of you has the supper dance available?”
Worthington looked put upon, and his lady stepped over to Lady Markham and Normanby. “I am sorry, my lord, but they both have partners. Perhaps, you could make arrangements for another time.”
It was time for Giff to make his presence known. “Normanby.”
“St. Albans.”
He bowed to Alice and held out his arm. “Lady Alice, our set.”
Her look was tight as she placed her hand in his. She must have taken a dislike to Normanby. “It is my lord.”
As he placed one hand on Alice’s waist and took her hand with the other, she seemed to relax a little. He’d have to ensure that worthless here-and-therian didn’t bother her. “My father ordered his costume for the king’s coronation. My mother said it was fortunate that the ladies didn’t have to dress in Elizabethan gowns.”
Was that all Lord St. Albans talked about? “I agree with her.”
He beamed at her. “I cannot imagine the panic the modistes would be in if they had to make that many gowns.”
That was actually a good point. Alice opened her mouth to respond when he continued, “I am glad I will not be present.”
She would have told him that her brothers-in-law were not happy with attending, but it was their duty. While Lord St. Albans talked, she imagined the conversation she would have if she could get a word in. She would say that ladies presented to the queen were required to wear the strangest gowns. The bodice was the same as the modern fashion but the skirt was wide with the Georgian hoops. They would go on to discuss some of the reforms MPs and peers in the Lords were attempting to make. Alice made a mental note that Lord St. Albans was still talking, and for the first time she understood how Augusta had separated her thoughts from the words coming out of a gentleman’s mouth. It gave Alice time to consider Lord Normanby. He was good-looking. Compared to Lord St. Albans and her brothers-in-law he could not be called handsome. But his features were pleasant and regular. She wished she had had a set to give him. With any luck, he would send a card or call on her to take her for a carriage ride. Perhaps he would meet all her requirements. He seemed nice. Lord St. Albans stopped for a breath. Separating her thoughts was an interesting process, but Alice did not think she would want to do it again. Sadly, the only good thing about standing up with his lordship was that he was an excellent dancer. She never had to think about where her feet were going, or his for that matter. The set ended. When he removed his hand from the small of her back a warmth she had not noticed left as well leaving her slightly chilled,
He bent his head and whispered. “I hope you enjoyed the dance.”
At least she could tell the truth about that. “I did. Very much.”
After leading her to the table that had been set up for her family, he went off to fetch their food without even asking what she liked. Alice had told her sisters she was not going to let him beat her, but it was time to give up. She considered Lord Normanby again. He was a possibility. The only thing about which she was certain was that she would no longer accept invitations from Lord St. Albans. No matter how handsome he was or how well he danced.
* * *
The next night Alice and her sisters arrived at Lady Brownly’s musical evening. She had no sooner entered the drawing room when Lord St. Albans sauntered over to her, took her hand, and placed it on his arm. “Come, let us find a place to sit.”
How dare he? What gall! It was all Alice could do to rein in her temper. The prickling affecting her hand and arm only increased her anger. It must be due to her dislike of him. She was tempted to remove her hand from his arm, but people were watching. “I am so sorry, my lord. I have promised my friends I will sit with them.” She trusted her raised brow was sufficiently imperious. “Perhaps if you had asked earlier, I would have been able to join you.”
His jaw went slack, and she turned so that no one could see her drop her hand. “I wish you a good evening.”
