That didn’t bode well for a match between the lady and the lord of Dunkeathe, unless Lord Chesleigh and his daughter thought him worthy enough to overlook what had happened in the courtyard.
Sir Nicholas came to a halt in the center of the raised platform, in front of the high table. “My lords and ladies, knights and gentlemen, welcome to Dunkeathe. I am both flattered and delighted to see so many of you here.” He made what was, she assumed, supposed to be a smile. “I especially welcome the young ladies, although there are so many of such beauty, grace and accomplishments, I am overwhelmed.”
Riona didn’t believe that for a moment.
Sir Nicholas turned to his steward, who was standing at the left side of the dais, a wax tablet in his hands. “If you would begin, Robert.”
The man consulted what was obviously a list. “My lord, may I present the Duke of Ansley and his sister, Lady Elizabeth.”
A man of middle years, with a sizable belly and attired in a long blue robe, hurried forward, leading a lady likewise plump, wearing a gown in an unflattering shade of burgundy. Sir Nicholas bowed, as did the nobleman, while the lady made her obeisance.
There were no smiles exchanged, and the lady was clearly nervous.
The steward proceeded to introduce all the ladies and their relatives one by one. The woman who’d been less impressed with Lady Joscelind was Lady Lavinia, the second cousin of the Duc D’Anglevoix, who had the longest, most arched nose Riona had ever seen. He also seemed a bit put out, darting annoyed glances at the steward and the man who’d just been introduced. Clearly D’Anglevoix felt he should have been called first.
The round-eyed Lady Priscilla, who came next, giggled the entire time she stood before Sir Nicholas, and the young man beside her looked as if he’d gladly gag her as he led her away. The Earl of Eglinburg, who likewise hadn’t missed many meals, strode forward so quickly, his daughter, Lady Mary, had to run to keep up with him, for she was short while he was tall.
Sir George, he of the bulbous red nose and swaying gait, slurred a greeting and nearly fell over when he bowed. His daughter, Lady Eloise, who was neither pretty nor plain, looked understandably and completely mortified, while Sir Nicholas’s expression didn’t change a bit.
Lady Isabelle blushed bright red when she was introduced, no doubt not just because of the inscrutable visage of their host, but also because her guardian, Sir James, tripped on her silk gown as he led her forward. Next to be called, the Comte D’Ortelieu looked as if he considered this whole exercise rather beneath him, while his daughter, Lady Catherine, turned as white as her gown and seemed about to swoon at any moment.
None of them, it seemed, recognized Sir Nicholas from the courtyard.
Then Robert Martleby summoned Lord Chesleigh and his beautiful daughter. His expression haughty, Lord Chesleigh strode forth, escorting Lady Joscelind. For a moment, Riona thought he might chastise his host. Instead, the man bowed and said in a hearty voice that was only slightly condemning, “My lord, this is a very great pleasure, but you should have declared yourself in the courtyard.”
That caused a bit of a flutter among the other guests.
“He was in the courtyard?” Uncle Fergus loudly whispered. “Where? I didn’t see him.”
Maybe her uncle hadn’t met Sir Nicholas after all. “By the stable. He wasn’t dressed like that.”
Uncle Fergus chuckled. “Clever man, to watch the ladies before they knew who he was, to see how they really are.”
Riona’s gaze darted back to the man on the dais. Was that why he’d done that?
“I should have enlightened you, but I was not properly attired to receive my noble guests,” Sir Nicholas replied, “and I couldn’t refuse the request of so graceful and beautiful a lady.”
Riona was somewhat amazed Lady Joscelind didn’t clutch her father’s arm to steady herself when the lord of Dunkeathe addressed her in that deep, seductive voice.
As for Sir Nicholas’s excuse, Riona could more easily believe Uncle Fergus’s explanation. She suspected there were very few things that could embarrass a man like Sir Nicholas, and she was sure his clothing wouldn’t be one of them.
Any offense clearly forgiven, Lord Chesleigh smiled with genial bonhomie. “Nonetheless, my lord, you must accept my apologies for any inadvertent offense.”
Sir Nicholas’s next words, spoken with no real contrition, convinced Riona there was indeed another motive for his behavior. “As you must accept mine for not introducing myself.”
Lord Chesleigh fairly beamed as he reached for his daughter’s hand and drew her forward. “May I present my daughter, Joscelind.”
She made a deep obeisance and when she rose, presented a charmingly flustered countenance. “I also beg your pardon, my lord.”
“Think no more about it, I beg you, and please, consider Dunkeathe your home while you’re here.”
If ever a man could make a woman swoon with his voice alone…
“And a very fine fortress it is,” Lord Chesleigh said. “I commend you, my lord.”
Sir Nicholas gave him another very small smile, and a brief bow. “Thank you.” Then he glanced at his steward.
Lord Chesleigh and Lady Joscelind took the hint and moved away.
