“Escape, Lady Wentworth?”
“Forgive me; I merely meant that you may have come to the gardens for some respite from the heat.”
Colin almost groaned inwardly. “Yes, the heat is stifling.”
If one more person tells me of the heat of the room, I shall—
“It isquitethe topic of conversation,” Lady Wentworth rolled her eyes. “I have never been so tired of hearing how hot I must be from three separate individuals on the floor. Do people not realise constantly referring to the heat will make it worse for all concerned?”
Miss Gilmore moved a little closer to her companion, and Colin watched, fascinated, as she lightly touched Lady Wentworth’s elbow. This was not a seemly conversation, clearly, and Colin found himself rejoicing in it.
“I believe I must agree, Lady Wentworth. I have, thus far, entertained approximately ten conversations on the subject. If we stay the entire evening, we may reach twenty by the end of the night.”
That brought about a laugh from Lady Wentworth, whose rather sorrowful expression transformed into one of delight, and Colin felt a jolt of something deep within him upon seeing it.
“I suppose it is the nature of society,” Lady Wentworth said.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“Well, it is the only agreeable thing to speak of, is it not?” she said wearily. “One would not discuss politics or poetry during a dance, so one is confined to the heat of the room, the number of couples, orthe weather.”
Her tone was so scathing that Colin found himself smiling. It was unusual, not to say unheard of, for a woman to speak so in society—and certainly not to a man she had only just become acquainted with.
“And howisthe weather, my Lady?”
Charlotte gave him a knowing glare, “Quite terrible, your Grace. Were you not made aware of this by your partners?”
“I was,” he said happily. “Several times.”
“I do not understand why I cannot discuss something of interest tomeinstead of parroting a script that everyone else has learned by heart. It is infuriating.”
Miss Gilmore cleared her throat, and Colin saw the moment Lady Wentworth realized her error. She sucked in a sharp breath and drew out her fan, looking flustered.
“Of—of course, that is not my place to say,” she finished, glancing at her companion in despair, and Colin felt compelled to reassure her.
“I would say it is exactly your place. I have asked, after all. What do you prefer to speak of, Lady Wentworth? I am most interested to know.”
Lady Wentworth’s fluttering stopped, and she fixed him with an assessing stare. It was a brief moment between them, but that stare lit something at the back of Colin’s mind like a beacon in the dark.
She looked at him as though calculating whether she could truly be herself with him—and what a rare thing that would be. Colin could not remember the last time anyone had been their true selves around him since he had inherited the title. Aside from Edward, he was keenly cognizant of how those in his presence trode lightly, their demeanour servile and sycophantic, eager to ingratiate themselves.
Lady Wentworth seemed to look at him, calculate his intent, and then decide to be just the person she was without any scruples at all.
“I would tell them that I find Lord Byron a bore and that I much prefer the work of Samuel Coleridge,” she stated firmly.
Colin blinked at her, and then a laugh bubbled up from within him unbidden, and he chuckled into the night, feeling his face ache from the width of his smile.
“How much more pleasant the night would be if one could discuss poetry. But I am quite appalled, Lady Wentworth. Lord Byron,a bore? You would be struck from every invitation in the country.”
Lady Wentworth’s hand moved to her reticule, holding it tightly against her even as her eyes sparkled at him in the moonlight.
“I believe it would be a small price to pay.”
Colin was about to reply when voices could be heard approaching them. He recognized that of Lady Norwell and a fresh jolt of panic ran through him that he might be cornered by them in the gardens. He would not put it past the woman to try to ensnare him whilst alone with her daughter.
Feeling regret at leaving his charming new companion, Colin turned to Lady Wentworth and Miss Gilmore and bowed.
“I fear I must return to the ballroom again, my ladies. However, it has been most… educational speaking with you this evening. I wish you a pleasant walk about the gardens.”
