Then, the dreaded excellent notion that Lady Rawley had mentioned landed on the ground with a thud and began to take its shape.
Lady Rawley said, “Dear Lady Cordelia, I know this is your first outing to Almack’s—nerves must be aflutter!”
Her father smiled and said, “I did tell my daughter there was no need—”
“No need, but they are there just the same,” Lady Rawley said. “You are not to worry, Lady Cordelia, reinforcements have arrived! I have already arranged with Lady Castlereagh that my nephew may put himself down on your card. Naturally, he will take you into supper. It will be comforting to you to dine with a gentleman who is already known. As for the rest of the evening, I will be standing by to assist if you have the slightest need!”
Percival was stunned. Had she really been so bold as to arrange for him to take Lady Cordelia into supper?
It was not that he was opposed to the idea as a general thought, there was no particular lady he’d had in mind to ask. But she had no right to do it! It was blasted highhanded.
“Now, dear Percy,” Lady Rawley said, laying a hand on his arm, “Lady Cordelia has not even retrieved her card yet. Do see to it.”
See to it? Now he was to retrieve her card like a dog going after a shot pheasant?
He very much wished to pull his aunt aside and speak to her sternly regarding her audacity. However, the earl was smiling pleasantly at him and Darden looked a bit wide-eyed.
He’d have to make the best of it. For now.
Percival turned on his heel and worked to hide the fact that he was storming off, though he was definitely storming off.
After waiting in a line of people who had just come in, he finally did get hold of a card. When he returned to the party, he found Lord Hamill had joined them, looking just as strapping as he always did.
Percival had penciled his name in on Lady Cordelia’s card and handed it to her as Miss Mayton said, “Lord Harveston, I suppose you know Lord Hamill? You are both in Lord Darden’s club, I believe?”
“Yes, of course,” Percival said. Hamill nodded his acknowledgment.
“We are so pleased to have a real Corinthian in our midst,” Miss Mayton said.
Percival forced a tight smile, as clearly nobody was referring tohimin such a manner.
It always filled him with irritation that men such as Hamill were given all the glory. Hamill raced around, hunting, sailing, boxing, driving, and was said to be extraordinary.
What did the fellow have between his ears though? Percival had once had a passing conversation with Hamill at the club and asked him his opinion on Wordsworth’s new poem. The man had claimed he “left reading to his sister.”
“I hardly lay claim to any title of the sort, Miss Mayton,” Hamill said.
He said it with ridiculous modesty that nobody was meant to believe, in Percival’s opinion. If Hamill was not a Corinthian he would like to know who was.
“I have heard from my sister Rosalind,” Lady Cordelia said, “that Conbatten becomes tired from just hearing what you’ve accomplished before ten in the morning.”
Hamill laughed. “I like to be up with the sun and the duke does not, surely that is no great accomplishment.”
“I suppose you must be quite tired after a full day’s exertion,” Lady Cordelia said.
Why was she wondering if Hamill were tired at the end of the day? Was all the world to be fascinated by a sporting fellow?
“I am never too tired to dance, though,” Hamill said gamely. “May I, Lady Cordelia? Lady Jersey has given me leave.”
Lady Cordelia nodded prettily.
Was she to be impressed because the man left the house before ten in the morning? It seemed a rather limp yardstick.
Percival paused. Why were his thoughts running so heated? Yes, it was a constant annoyance that a gentleman like Hamill had his talents out where everybody could see them while an intellectual’s accomplishments did not wave a flag for everybody to notice. However, he was not in a competition for Lady Cordelia’s approval.
What care he if she was bowled over by the sportsman?
“I see you have surged ahead and secured Lady Cordelia’s supper, Harveston,” Hamill said.
