Daisy had debated what she would wear to the regent’s assembly. She was most inclined to choose the pale blue crepe silk that had been so skillfully made by the London modiste. Intricate patterns of periwinkle flowers had been embroidered across the whole and it had a cheerful summer feel to it. However, she also knew perfectly well that particular dress was more suited to one comingoutof mourning, so little did it hint of sadness. In the end, she reminded herself that she was not at all afraid of talk and put on the dress.
The assembly rooms were by the harbor and while Daisy had passed the building many times on her way to a shop, she had never been inside. She did not know if her father had regularly attended the assemblies, particularly since the building was rumored to have a billiard room, but he had never escorted her there.
Lord Dalton, though he was usually inclined to be on horseback, had ridden in the carriage with them. As Mrs. Jellops unobtrusively picked a cat hair from the edge of his coat, he said, “I suppose it would be best if I took supper.”
Daisy knew perfectly well that he meant he ought to put himself down for her supper, and was rather thrilled by it, but somehow ended saying, “Itisusually best that people take supper.”
Mrs. Jellops, delightfully oblivious, said, “Even if you are not inclined to it, you ought to pretend you are. The prince is very fond of his food and won’t like to see you starve if he’s arranged something.”
“Miss Danworth understands me, I think,” Lord Dalton said. “It will be proper that I take the lady’s supper as I am her guardian. It would not be seemly for her to dine with some unknown gentleman at this moment in her history.”
“Would it not?” Daisy said.
“Well, I see what you say, Lord Dalton,” Mrs. Jellops said. “But then, Lord Burke is well known by us so I suppose he would do just as well.”
“No,” Daisy and Lord Dalton said at the same time.
They both looked to opposite sides of the carriage.
“Ah,” Mrs. Jellops said, gazing out the window at the passing scenery, “I understand you. Lord Burke will be set on taking Miss Minkerton in. He seems fond of the lady.”
“Yes, of course,” Daisy said hurriedly. “He does seem fond of Miss Minkerton.”
“Does that bother you?” Lord Dalton asked, staring at Daisy.
Before Daisy could answer, Mrs. Jellops said, “Not in the slightest. Why ever should it?”
Thankfully, the carriage stopped and there was no more time for circular and very confusing conversations.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Charles had escorted Miss Danworth and the confounded Mrs. Jellops into the assembly rooms. As they waited their turn to be greeted by the prince, he cursed himself for his heavy-handedness. He might have just asked the lady for her supper without the speech about it being proper, and he being the guardian and whatever else he’d gone on about.
Or, he might have been even more clever and not asked at all.
What was he doing, anyway? Was this only some silly competition with Burke?
If it was, they were both fools, as Miss Danworth was not inclined to entertain any gentleman’s interest.
Perhaps that was why he was so interested in Miss Danworth. It was pleasant to engage with a lady who was not set on dragging him up the church steps.
That was likely it. As for Burke’s interest in the lady, he could not understand how the fellow was going about it. He seemed to spend far more time speaking to Miss Minkerton than he did Miss Danworth.
Well, if Burke thought he would move in and take supper, he was about to find out he was mistaken.
The prince had taken his time greeting Miss Danworth and Charles was not surprised by it—he had noted at other events that the regent had a particular regard for the lady. Miss Danworth, if she were anything, was a composed creature and Prinny admired it. The regent was also not opposed to a fine set of fair curls.
“Dalton,” the prince said, “how do you do these days? We expected to see you at Brighton this summer before we heard the duke had sent you off to squire Miss Danworth here. A rascal of a father, eh?”
Dalton nodded, despite the fact thatrascalwas not the word he’d use for his patriarch. Though, any words hewoulduse he had rarely said aloud.
Far behind him somewhere, he heard an unmistakable voice. It was noisy, it was pushy, and it was grating on the nerves.
It was unpleasantly unmistakable. Lady Montague.
Charles was not at all eager to see that particular lady. Not only was she vile and intent on causing trouble wherever she went, but he did harbor some amount of guilt over having connived with her to keep Lockwood away from Lady Sybil. He’d even helped the creature back into society after Hampton had helped her out of it and sent her packing to Yorkshire.
It had seemed an unfortunately necessary bargain at the time. Now, she reminded him of his less than honorable actions in attempting to keep his friends from the altar. She reminded him that he had been in the wrong more than once, though he’d justified himself at the time. He did not like it, and he did not like her.
