Ryland
His mother was deeply unhappy that he would leave her ball just when supper would be served, but he would go forward all the same. This was his chance to find the Stuart. This was his chance to extricate Miss Wilcox from the dangerous situation she’d got herself into.
He would get her out, one way or the other, but what then? Well, if it were done neatly and quietly, he might re-engage with Miss Wilcox.
Jasper slowly shook his head, embarrassed by his own lies to himself. He would not just re-engage with Miss Wilcox. He would seek her hand. And, what if she were not extricated at all? That did not bear thinking about. She must be extricated, one way or the other.
He just had to get her out of the situation before she landed in the tower.
*
Georgiana put asmile on her face and was determined to keep it there for the rest of the night. The expense and effort required to put on such a ball had been enormous and she would not insult Lord and Lady Mendleton with any expressions that might hint at unhappiness.
She descended the stairs to Lord and Lady Mendleton and Lord Langley just as Perry opened the door to the first arriving guests.
Lord Mendleton came forward to take her arm as she came down the last stair. “My dear,” he said kindly, “you are an angel come to earth to grace us.”
Georgiana smiled gratefully; he really was such a generous soul. She knew perfectly well that if it had not been his wife’s own ball, he would have gladly claimed a gouty foot—even if he could not quite remember which foot it was supposed to be.
She avoided Lord Langley’s eye and he did not speak to her. She stole a quick glance at him—he was as handsome as ever in his dress coat, his cravat tied in a complicated and yet restrained and elegant knot.
If only things were different! They were not, though. She was as she was, and he was not at all interested. And now, he was walking into some sort of terrible situation. Was it dangerous, even? A midnight meeting did suggest it, but then her imagination might be taking her places there was no need to go.
She had no further moment to think about it, as guests began making their way in, one party after the other.
Georgiana had notconsidered that because the ball was in her honor, she would be the recipient of endless attention. It seemed, at times, as if all eyes were upon her. Including, discomposingly, Lord Langley’s. She never looked directly at him, but she took her opportunities to glance at him and caught him glancing at her. What was he thinking? Did he admire her dress, or did he wonder what the ball had cost his father and how soon he could be done with it?
When her eyes were not taking in Lord Langley, she admired the room. What care had been taken! Just now, as lords and ladies poured in, all were doing their best to step around the chalked roses. They would fade to nothing as the evening wore on but for now they bloomed a deep pink under the hundred candles in chandeliers above them.
Jasper had, as she had expected, put himself down on her card. Also as expected, he had not taken supper or the first. Mr. Vance had put himself down for her supper, though Lady Mendleton would probably have steered him to another of the dances had she had the opportunity. Lady Mendleton liked the gentleman well enough, but she never could quite get over the idea that he wasnewon account of him being grandson to a gunmaker who had been given the title for his service to the king. Georgiana was relieved that she would dine with him, the evening was likely to be an odd combination of smiling and feeling fraught and at least supper would not be nerve-inducing with the amiable Mr. Vance by her side.
She did not know if Jasper would have taken the first set had he the opportunity to do so, though she doubted it. As it was, Lady Mendleton and the duchess had conspired together to arrange that the duchess’ husband, the Duke of Stanbury, would lead her through the first. He was an older, paunchy gentleman, but he was not chosen for his looks or eligibility—he was the most senior in rank attending and it was meant to be some compliment to Georgiana. She assumed Lady Mendleton also would not mind talking about the duke insisting on leading her girl as she made visits to drawing rooms in the following days. She would conveniently forget that the poor fellow had been conscripted into service.
The dance had come off successfully and though the duke in his advancing years would not make any lady swoon, he was kind and gracious. Georgiana was grateful for it, as she could hardly keep her attention on the dance—the next was with Lord Langley.
Chapter Eighteen
Jasper had notdanced with Miss Wilcox since he had discovered firm proof that she was being used as a pawn in the Stuart’s game. He had studiously avoided her presence, as he was fairly certain that one of the things she had been directed to do was charm him and elicit any information she could in the process. He felt himself well up to the challenge, but he shied away from it like a hand on a hot stove. It would be too agonizing to be near her and know she was doing what she had been somehow forced to do. He would be far too tempted to shake her and demand the truth.
However, he could not avoid putting his name down on her card at his mother’s ball. It would have raised eyebrows if he had ignored the lady, and as for his mother…well, she was already in a state after hearing that he would leave just before supper. If he snubbed her protégé as well, mere raised eyebrows would pale in comparison. His mother’s eyebrows would fly right off her face and be on fire while they went.
So, he could not avoid it. He did not really want to avoid it. He only thought heshouldavoid it, had it been practical.
As he led her to their place, he could not help but think how lovely she was. She was always so, but the gown she wore made her look…his father had described it as an angel come down to earth and that was very close to the mark. Not the cherubs with their childish chubby cheeks, but the long and lithe depiction from a master. Caravaggio would have felt the honor of painting her.
Her hand trembled through her glove and he thought it must be what every miss underwent at their own ball. So many eyes upon one must shake even the most experienced of debutantes.
He had no words to say to her, though she kept glancing up at him as if she would speak.
Finally, she said, “Lady Mendleton said, well, she mentioned…a midnight meeting at the palace sounds very, as if there was some danger.”
He could not tell if she were on a fishing excursion, hoping to elicit some information, or whether she was only curious.
“Not at all,” he said.
“I only wondered,” she said softly, “is the king dead?”
“Certainly not,” he said, sternly.
