“Oh, now I understand.” He looked confused. “Where shall we go?”
“Here.” Frits ducked behind a door and almost ran into a footman, and held out a hand to steady the man. “Excuse me. Is there a parlor that leads off this corridor?”
“Three doors down.”
Dragging Turley with him, Frits followed the servant’s directions. Once they were in the room with the door closed, he said, “Both Miss Tice and Miss Hanson are attempting to force me to marry them. So far, I have been successful in not being presented to Miss Hanson and avoiding a hostess asking me to dance with Miss Tice.”
Turley clutched his belly and laughed.
“I do not see what is so funny about any of this.” Frits glanced around the room for a decanter of wine or brandy and found nothing. “And stop laughing so loudly. Someone will hear you and come in.”
“No need to worry.” Turley smirked. “Like a knight of old, I shall protect you.”
“Stubble it.” The situation was not at all amusing. Frits wanted to wed Adeline, not some other lady.
“If you do not require my assistance, I’ll go.” His friend turned toward the door.
“No!” Frits grabbed Turley’s arm again. “I have to find a way to go back into the ballroom to be with Adeline.”
“Adeline?” His eyes widened as his brows inched up his forehead.
“Lady Adeline.” Damn, Frits had known he’d slip up sooner or later. At least he hadn’t done it when her brother was around. That would have been disastrous. “I can’t help thinking of her like that. It’s a pretty name.” And he felt closer to her when he used it. And that was the lamest excuse he’d ever made.
Turley rolled his eyes. “I suppose you can’t just run home like you’ve done before?”
“Not this time. I have to avoid those ladies and hope there are no others.” Aside from that, this time was different. It was still aggravating and dangerous, but Adeline was spending more time with him. He’d even made her happy this evening. “I wish Exeter would hurry up and secure Lady Dorie.”
“What does that have to do with anything? Hasn’t he started to court Miss Chatham?” Turley opened a sideboard and took out two glasses and a decanter of something. Leave it to him to find something suitable to drink.
“No. Miss Chatham is waiting for the gentleman she wants to marry to return to England. He’s helping her to avoid Lytton until that happens.”
Turley handed Frits a glass. “It’s truly amazing the things you’re able to discover.”
“After what happened last year, I feel responsible for Lady Dorie, so I asked him.” Frits drank down half of the glass before he recognized the drink as ratafia. “God, that’s horrible stuff.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, and I definitely feel like a beggar. I’ll look to see if there’s anything more palatable.” He turned back to the sideboard. “How long do you plan to hide in here?”
“Until the next set begins.” Frits held his breath and drained the goblet. “I should be safe after that. Did you find anything else?”
Turley pulled the stopper out of another bottle and sniffed. “Claret.”
“Much better.” Frits held out his glass. “While we’re stuck in here, help me think of a way to convince Lady Adeline that she can ignore Lady Dorie’s feelings about me.”
His friend shook his head. “I have not a clue how you go about doing that.” Turley sipped the wine. “And I’m not sure you would want a lady who would betray a friend.”
“You have a point.” Frits plopped down on a sofa. “I could be waiting for her for a very long time.” He glanced around the parlor and saw a set of French windows. “They might lead to the terrace.”
Turley strolled over and pulled back the curtains. “They do. We might do well to reenter the ballroom from there.”
That was what Frits had been thinking. “We shouldn’t have to wait much longer.”
Turley opened the window the slightest bit. “Nothing yet.” He closed it again.
Frits had not heard any music either. As long as they were here, he might as well see if his friend had any ideas. “I need to find a gentleman to dangle in front of Miss Hanson. He should have a title.”
“Nothing like sacrificing your fellow man,” Turley said with feeling.
“We must know someone who is at a standstill and needs a rich wife.” How hard could that be? “Her father may be a Cit, but her mother is a lady and well-connected.”
