“Lady Viola,” he said, holding out his arm.
As he led her to the line so they might take their places, he said, “Sometimes, Lady Viola, I find the best thing is to be direct, and to do so quickly.”
Viola’s heart sank. His serious tone. It was coming. He was to communicate that he would not be paying her any more attention, as his mother did not approve. Or that he had suddenly recalled his feelings for Lady Clara.
How odd though! Did gentlemen go round informing ladies that they’d been put off of them? It had been her understanding that they just quietly drifted away, not that they made an announcement about it.
“My mother has been unwell,” Lord Baderston said. “She should not have come to London. She was too unwell to travel, and then Town has never agreed with her, and she does not care for balls and parties. It’s all made her unusually prickly. That is no excuse, I know. I have informed her of that fact. But, you see, she’s just not a particularly agreeable woman and she does sometimes let her moods get the better of her. In any case, I do hope you did not take offense.”
Viola was rather stunned. “Offense? No, I was more…frightened.”
“Do not be, I beg you. You will find her in better spirits when next you meet.”
Could that be true? What a relief it would be if that turned out to be the case.
Viola felt herself lighter than she had been all night.
“And the rest of your family?” Lord Baderston asked. “Do you suppose they thought anything particular about the encounter?”
Viola smiled. “Well, Darden did say it felt like accidently wandering into an icehouse.”
Lord Baderston colored. “Darden. And I having just joined the YBC.”
He did seem very regretful over his mother’s cool reception of her. And he did seem very sure it was an anomaly. Certainly, those were very positive signs.
“You really should not worry over it, my lord,” Viola said. “The Benningtons take most things in stride and do not nurse pricked feelings.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
Though she said it, Viola was not entirely certain she would soon forget the dowager’s stance. However, Lord Baderston had just given her so many reasons to account for it and she should try to believe him. He claimed the lady had come through the doors already very out of sorts.
There were such ladies, she knew. The Benningtons had been blessed with Miss Mayton, who was never out of sorts. But that was not the case with every lady in their neighborhood. There was one particular spinster, Miss Fairweather, who suffered from arthritis and could be positively rude at times.
An ill temperament was not confined to women, either. What about Mr. Graydell, forever threatening people over his coveys? According to Mr. Graydell, his coveys were the center of the known world and every man in the vicinity was trying to get at them. No amount of sense and logic could convince him otherwise.
Viola resolved to look upon this night happily. Lord Baderston had waited for her, fetched her card, and taken her supper. She would not be thrown off by a person’s mother who was not in a very good frame of mind to begin.
It became far easier to shake off any misgivings when Lord Baderston led her through the dance. How expert he was! There was something about his arm, it was very strong and there was a confidence to it.
Dancing with him was so different than what she had experienced at home. There, at the small parties with neighbors that she’d been allowed to attend, she’d be partnered with some callow youth who might not be very light on his feet and would spend the entire time looking embarrassed. The last she’d seen him, young John Haven had even had rivulets of sweat running down his face, such was his terror to be faced with a woman.
Lord Baderston smiled at her as they danced the figure of eight. She smiled back. He really was marvelous.
As the other dancers took their turns, she and Lord Baderston stayed smiling at one another.
Viola felt as if it would be very difficult to stop from smiling. She looked at him. He looked at her.
It was an odd sensation and she realized she had never before stared directly at a man’s face for an extended period, other than her relations.
There was something intimate in it.
Viola was hardly cognizant that the dance had come to an end until Lord Baderston bowed and then held out his arm.
