“Are you fond of music, Lord Henry?”
He twitched his attention back to hisactualdance partner.
“Hm, what? Oh, yes, I am. Of course I am. I think everybody is fond of music.”
“Then I must play the pianoforte sometime for you. I know it isn’t modest for a young lady to say, but I amrathergood at it.”
He smiled tightly. “There certainly is no point in false modesty.”
“And I play the harp, too,” she said, encouraged. “You may have heard thatMiss Bellamyalso plays the harp, which is true, but I don’t believe she has the arms and hands for it – her wrists are not very well turned, and her elbows are not neat.”
Henry wondered briefly what constituted aneatelbow. Miss Bellamy was a plump young woman, so perhaps that was what Miss Redford meant.
“I heard that she plays like an angel,” he said, despite himself. “Everybody says so.”
Miss Redford scowled, just for an instant, before she recovered herself and reverted to a saccharine-sweet smile again.
“Perhaps she playswell, but I think that playing the harp is more about theimageit presents, don’t you?”
“Really? How interesting. And here I thought it was about the music.”
He wasn’t sure whether his acid comment simply escaped Miss Redford’s notice, or whether the end of the dance simply distracted her, but she contented herself with smiling coyly at him and saying nothing. The music ended with a flourish and a burst of applause, and the dancing partners bowed or curtsied to each other, grinning.
Miss Redford came forward, mouth open to say something else, but Henry seized his opportunity.
“Thank you for the dance, Miss Redford,” he said quickly, before she could interrupt, “But I think I must go and see my friend now. Good evening and do enjoy the party.”
Then he was gone, scurrying through the crowd as fast as he dared. When he glanced back over his shoulder, Lady Redford had joined her daughter and they were standing side by side, arms folded, watching him.
They looked displeased, but not particularly angry. No doubt they would consider this a partial success at the very least.
He passed by Eleanor Fairfax again, standing in a foursome with her good-natured friend, who was in fact the aforementioned Miss Bellamy whose elbows were somehow untidy, along with the two fresh-faced young men whose names Henry had no intention of learning.
This time, Miss Fairfax happened to glance up, and their eyes met. Well, there was no ignoring each other now. He paused as he passed by, inclining his head.
“Miss Fairfax.”
“Lord Henry.”
Bows were exchanged, and then Henry hurried on. It wasn’t exactlypropermanners, but then rules were generally relaxed at parties like this.
It wasn’t Almack’s after all, where the rules were stringent and waltzing was forbidden altogether, except between married or engaged couples.
Henry had already spotted his friend by the refreshment table, grinning at him.
“Took the liberty of pouring you a champagne,” Percy said, handing over the glass. “I saw you dancing with the Redford girl and thought you’d need it. They’re keen to get her married off by the end of the Season, and frankly nobody is safe.”
Henry winced, taking a long sip. “She’s beautiful, but more than a little unkind.”
“Yes, I’d say so. I saw you talking to the Fairfax girl, too?”
“Miss Eleanor Fairfax? Yes, we’re acquainted.”
Percy, ever eagle-eyed, watched his friend closely. “You kept watching her during the dance. I saw you, you know. I don’t think Miss Redford noticed – it probably hasn’t crossed her mind that you would look at another woman when she was with you – butInoticed.”
“I don’t believe I paid her any special attention.”
He huffed. “Oh, you did, my friend. I know you of old, remember?”
