“Well, I only say, he is Conbatten,” Darden said, sounding near hysterical. “Conbatten, you understand.”
“Look, Darden,” Rosalind said, holding out her card, “he has done it. He has put himself down to take me into supper.”
“Because you ordered him to!” Darden said. “What he must think of it…”
“Now Lord Darden, you have got yourself tied up in knots over nothing,” Miss Mayton said.
“No I haven’t!” Darden said. “Rosalind, you cannot go round ordering gentlemen on what dances they are to take. Especially not Conbatten!”
Miss Mayton tapped Darden’s arm with her fan. “Oh look, Lady Mary has spotted you and she heads in your direction.”
Darden suddenly had the look of a hunted stag upon him. “Excuse me, I must go and…go somewhere. Do not forget what I said.” He hurried off in the opposite direction.
Rosalind did not think Darden’s flight would do him much good. Lady Mary had reset her direction to follow Darden’s own and bore down upon him, just as she’d heard the lady did with Van Doren last season.
But then, that was Darden’s problem. Her gentleman was here, and her gentleman was Conbatten.
“I find myself all aflutter,” Miss Mayton said. “When you told us of seeing your gentleman out of a carriage window, I had not imagined it was the duke.”
“Nor I, Aunt,” Rosalind said. “I could not have cared less if he were a grocer. Goodness, is he not marvelous? I feel as if my whole person is abuzz just to be near him. When I heard his voice behind me, I knew it was him. There is not a more perfect person on this earth, I am sure of it.”
“Darden will be felled by the shock of the idea, I think,” Miss Mayton said.
“Oh, he must not be told,” Rosalind said. “Nobody must know but you and my sisters.”
“It is to be a secret? Why?”
“We must allow Conbatten to prove his courage and bravery for me before I reveal my own feelings,” Rosalind said. “I must be wooed, you see. He must do something daring for love of me. I cannot imagine what it will be, but the fates will see to it.”
“Oh yes, I understand you,” Miss Mayton said. “Goodness child, you are full of good sense in these matters.”
*
Balthazar had takenhis leave of Lady Rosalind Bennington after putting himself down for her supper.
Or rather, being directed to put his name down for her supper.
He’d really thought Lord Darden might expire over his sister’s brashness. He’d been rather taken aback himself.
Of course, he should have known a Bennington lady would be an original. Lady Beatrice had been too, and he had even anticipated the entertainment of further Benningtons on the horizon.
He had no idea what she would have to say for herself at supper, though he doubted there would be endless conversation about the weather.
When had a lady ever directed him on which dance to take?
Never, that was when. Oh, he had been the subject of hints often enough. Lady Mary or Lady Clara might even go so far as to hold their thumb over another dance that was free and not so significant.
However, he had dined with both those ladies and was determined to avoid doing so again—he had acquired the habit of gently pulling their card from their hands to get a better view.
Lady Rosalind, though, just might be a different matter.
And my God, she was a tempting creature. She had that coloring he so preferred—her hair as deep brown as strong coffee. Hazel eyes that changed color in the light. A delicate bone structure, as if she might have been a ballerina had she been born other than she had been. An entrancing little minx.
Still, her danger would never be in her looks, those he could withstand if necessary. Her danger would be in her…well, he did not know what to call it exactly. Her forthright and surprising nature, he supposed.
She was different, and different always pulled at him.
He was both wary and looking forward to speaking with her. It was so rare that any woman sparked any sort of interest in him.
