There he was. Lord Hamill, the Corinthian.
He certainly met what her thoughts had imagined. His arms did look as if his tailor must be brought to the edge of despair in attempts to encase them. He was broad chested and it looked as if his wide shoulders strained at the seams of his coat.
He was very pleasant too.
And yet, he had seemed to think that Desdemona was a contemporary lady. He claimed he did not know her but that he was always sorry to hear that somebody had died.
Cordelia found herself disturbed by that. She also found herself disturbed to notice that her nerves were a bit shaken at anticipating dining with Lord Harveston. He was bound to talk about things she had no knowledge of. She really did not wish to be embarrassed and could not imagine why Lady Rawley had thought to arrange it.
She had then been introduced to Lady Jersey and got through it creditably. It seemed that Rosalind having married a duke had laid a shiny veneer over the Benningtons. Cordelia was not asked anything particular about herself, though Lady Jersey was most interested in hearing of Conbatten.
Darden had since wandered off in search of ladies’ cards.
Miss Mayton leaned over and whispered, “I believe Lady Rawley has had some matchmaking in mind.”
“Matchmaking? With Lord Harveston?”
“Yes, I believe so. We cannot blame her, it is a very great compliment to you that she should think of it. Of course, she does not know of your proclivity for a Corinthian.”
“No, I suppose she does not.”
“Lord Hamill secured your first, I noticed. Very good sign.”
“Yes, yes it was,” Cordelia said.
She had imagined that she would be thrilled by such a development—her Corinthian approached and took her first. It was exactly what she had dreamed of.
Yet, she was not as thrilled as she ought to be.
His arms were everything perfection, just as she’d seen those appendages in her thoughts. He was exceedingly handsome, anybody would say so. But how was it that she was not stirred by him? Lightning had not struck her hair at all and she certainly did not feel as if she was drowning with more air.
Perhaps she’d only been thrown off by Lord Hamill failing to comprehend that when she spoke of Desdemona, she had meant that tragic heroine of a Shakespeare play.
It was even possible that there was a living Lady Desdemona in London somewhere, and now she had given Lord Hamill the impression that the poor lady was dead.
After all, he’d said he did not know the lady, not that he had never heard of the lady. If he had heard of a Lady Desdemona living amongst them, then it was the most natural thing in the world that his mind had gone there and not toherDesdemona.
“Yes, I really ought to like him,” Cordelia said with resolution.
“That is good, for the musicians have done their tuning and Lord Hamill approaches,” Miss Mayton said. “Now, leaving you in good hands, I will repair to the card room and join the earl. Goodness, we are on our way to another happy visit to the altar!”
With that, Miss Mayton promenaded her black bombazine across the ballroom floor and disappeared into the card room.
Lord Hamill led her to the floor and the dance began soon after.
He was skilled at it, as he must be with anything to do with movement and physicality.
He made general conversation about how excellent Darden’s club was.
It was all very…as it should be?
Cordelia said, “My lord, I believe I may have inadvertently given you the wrong impression when I mentioned Desdemona’s death. I was referring to Desdemona fromOthello. Shakespeare’sOthello.”
“Ah, Shakespeare,” Lord Hamill said, seeming as if the clouds had parted from his misapprehension. “I’ll suppose it is not one of his comedies, as I have never seen it. In truth, I do not attend the theater very often, I get bored, as I like to be doing something, rather than watching other people do something.”
“I see, yes, of course,” Cordelia said.
That was something she’d not considered about a Corinthian. They would, very naturally, always like to be doing something.
