He hoped so, anyway. There would be no end of gentlemen doing their very best to impress her. She had looked very well in that absurd court dress, but now, to see her as a proper lady out for the evening…she was spectacular. Everything about her was elegant, from her hair to her slippers. The shade of the dress was perfection for her coloring—so many ladies who were fair attempted a match with lighter colors but there was something about it that looked almost childish.
Lady Winsome Nicolet looked anything but childish.
Leland led her to the top of a forming set, then was irritated to see that his profligate cousin, St. John, joined as the bottom couple. He had not known St. John was in Town. His cousin was partnered with Lady Edith, who Leland would be forced to take into the dining room. Lady Edith was large and a bit ungainly, but that was not what really put him off about her. She was so forceful in her manner, wishing to bend a person to her opinion. She was almost like his grandmother incarnate.
St. John appeared to ignore Lady Edith entirely, as he was determinedly smiling at Lady Winsome. That, in itself, was irritating. And then, Leland was not even certain how the fellow had afforded to come to Town this season, as he’d so recently bailed him out of a crushing gambling debt. He ought to be at home, keeping his head down and not giving the palace any reason to think he might not be the ideal ambassador to Portugal.
The orchestra struck up a cotillion, led by Lady Westmoreland and the Duke of Bolton.
As they were the top couple, Leland led Lady Winsome through the steps. She was so graceful at it. They returned to their place so the other couples might take their turn.
“I suppose you must be relieved to have done with the queen’sdrawing room,” he said.
“I got out of that dress as soon as I could and will never in my life don such a mountain of fabric again,” Lady Winsome said.
Leland smothered his laughter. She really had a unique way of expressing an idea. He also could not help his mind drifting to the idea of Lady Winsome getting out of a dress.
In a much quieter voice, she said, “Why does that fellow opposite keep staring over here in such a manner?”
Leland looked over and found the lady referred to St. John, who was still staring, despite Lady Edith’s obvious annoyance over it. “A cousin, I’m afraid. Do not ever agree to play cards with him. His name is St. John, a viscount.”
“Oh, Lord St. John. He is on my card for the third,” Lady Winsome said. “Though, why do you say one ought not to play cards with the gentleman?”
“Just a jest, not a particularly clever one. It is only that he is one of my more serious money problems,” Leland said, not paying very close attention to his words. His thoughts were far more focused on the idea that St. John was on Lady Winsome’s card. That, taken with the rude staring, began to prompt an idea. Was St. John planning on making a play for Lady Winsome’s dowry?
He would not deserve her. He was not certain who St. Johnwoulddeserve, but certainly not Lady Winsome Nicolet.
“I see,” Lady Winsome said. “Do you say, then, that you have a lot of money problems?”
“Beset from all sides, it sometimes seems,” Leland said. “People crawling out of the woodwork demanding money.”
It would not be out of the realms of possibilities that St. John had decided a dowry was the quickest way to alleviate his money pressures. The man had been informed, in no uncertain terms, that he would not be rescued from gambling debts again in future. Perhaps the rogue thought he might turn to other avenues to secure funds?
It was time for the change and Lady Westmoreland had called a Grand Chain. He faced Lady Winsome and extended his right hand. It was lovely to have her delicate gloved hand in his, though it lasted only a moment. He passed her off clockwise as he made his way counter, and they met again where they’d started. Though, he did not like the idea of St. John touching her hand too. What was that degenerate up to?
“I look forward to the dinner on the morrow,” he said, as he could not very well say what he was actually thinking.
“Yes, as to that, you might find us a bit…unusual,” Lady Winsome said. “My father does not see the need to do everything…precisely as everybody else does it.”
Leland had no doubt of it. The duke was his own man with his own peculiarities. “I have some interesting relations myself,” he said, “one of which will be coming with me.”
“The dowager,” Lady Winsome said. “I am afraid the lady has taken my father’s advice regarding bringing a flask.”
“Did she?” Leland asked. He should have known to ask why she brought such a large reticule to a ball. “Just as a general comment,” Leland said, sensing the perfect opportunity for a warning, “do not believe much of what my grandmother says. She is an inveterate liar, always for her own purpose.”
Rather than shock, this caused Lady Winsome to laugh. “My father plays very loose with the truth, though it generally has no particular purpose but for his own amusement.”
She then went on to tell him about Captain James Cook Day and the resulting barring from several inns.
The dance ended far too soon and Leland stayed on for conversation as long as he could do before having to seek out his partner for the second dance.
“Until tomorrow, Lady Winsome.”
She smiled at him. That brilliant smile. He really could look at it all day.
