“Ah yes, Lady Valor, that will suit very well. I will put you down for the first. I must also tell you I have had a preference told me by one of our fairer guests. You will escort Lady Letitia into supper. She tells me she is acquainted with you from Cornwall.”
Weston gritted his teeth and worked to show no particular feelings about it. He did not even know there was to be a supper. Had not Lady Marchfield said not to expect much in that department? He’d expected a lonely sideboard set up somewhere to minister to people who were on the verge of a faint from lack of food.
Now he was to take Lady Letitia into this supper? If it was anything like when she came to dine he might be better off hanging himself from the highest tree. It might well be a more pleasant experience.
“I will inform you of the other dances after I’ve arranged them,” Lady Westmoreland said, turning to greet some newer arrivals.
“Come,” Lady Marchfield said, “let us proceed to the ballroom.”
They set forth and found the room to be again nothing particularly impressive. Weston had been very practiced about keeping himself out of ballrooms up to now so he could only compare it to Lord Ledderbey’s ballroom. It was larger, to be sure, but their own had better windows.
He scanned the room, ignoring the idea that he looked for Lady Valor.
And there she was. She was looking far different than she had at his house. She was looking rather magnificent actually.
Her hair was elegantly composed. She wore a cream silk dress with an overlay of the same color and a pearl necklace. There was something sophisticated in the simplicity of the color and restraint in decoration.
She was positively lovely.
She was also surrounded by her sisters as if they guarded a delicate flower.
He made his way over.
*
Valor could nothelp but to feel her stomach lurch at the thought of Almack’s. Year after year, her sisters had set off for that place, looking a bit sick as they got in the carriage.
It was not so much that there would be dancing with as-yet-unknown gentlemen. It was not even that it would be a first foray out into society. It was that Almack’s was the place a lady would be examined, closely, and for the first time. An opinion would be formed, cementing perceptions of that lady. Some of the patronesses would stand in the upper gallery, looking down with falcon eyes on all that transpired.
Nevertheless, all her sisters had gone and survived it, even Grace who might have fallen on the floor at any moment. Tonight, they would all be there to support her. She must find her courage in that.
She would also find courage in her dress. Madame LaFray had explained that her dark hair and hazel eyes could stand up to a light color and had designed a lovely cream silk dress with gently puffed sleeves and a chiffon overlay of the same color. There was a subtle chain of cream-colored flowers embroidered around the waist and hem, otherwise it was unadorned. The dressmaker had told her that itcould be a temptation to keep going with decoration, but it only resulted in something that was overwrought.
As she already felt a bit overwrought, she did not care to look overwrought. Serenity had advised that the string of pearls Winsome had given her last season would set the whole thing off. According to her sister, the aim was to avoid looking as if one tried too hard. One should appear as if one had grabbed the first dress within reach with hardly a thought about it. Elegant, but unstudied.
She could not say she appeared quite that nonchalant, but she did feel confident she wore the right dress for Almack’s.
There had been some debate over her slippers, a matching cream color and of delicate construction, as it had rained heavily and the streets were wet. Mr. Huberville had offered to carry her out to the carriage.
On top of not wishing to find herself in the arms of their current butler, the risk of him dropping her on the pavement was deemed far too high, considering what else he’d dropped in the past days.
The problem was getting to the carriage in Grosvenor Square. Almack’s had a covered portico so getting out again was not a danger. Mrs. Right finally came up with the practical solution of wearing her boots into the carriage and then changing to slippers once inside.
Valor had been sure her father would inquire into her dancing lessons with Lord Tramondeley. She’d expected he would, but over the past days he’d said nothing about it.
As for herself, she had perhaps looked out her bedchamber window from time to time and peered across the square to his house. She could just see the front door through a break in the trees. The only thing of note she spotted was a couple dropped off by a hackney in the early morning and then setting off again at the end of the day, two days in a row. They must be very close friends to spend so much time there.
Now, she and the duke had positively arrived to Almack’s after arousing talk from her father in the carriage. He reminded her that she was a duke’s daughter and need not concern herself with anybody’s approval. He’d patted his flask in his pocket. “Do you think those patronesses don’t know I make free with my brandy in their establishment? They do, a few of them will be predictably outraged over it, and yet they do nothing about it because I am a duke.”
He’d managed to make her laugh, which was always good for settling nerves.
Her father had presented her to Lady Westmoreland who turned out to be a very pleasant woman. Valor did not know who the lady would choose for her card, but she did hope that Lord Tramondeley was on it.
She reasoned that it was not so much because she admired his person, but more that he was new to dancing and would require support to keep his spirits up about it. After all, he’d only had a brief lesson. He must be nervous even if he would not show it.
As she thought of that, she had begun to wonder if a gentleman who went out sailing at night, looking for trouble of the French variety, might give it up eventually. After all, did not a young gentleman mature? She did not know of a single older gentleman who would try out such a thing. Lord Tramondeley might just decide he’d had enough of it and give it up for rare book collecting. Perhaps he’d just not yet thought of collecting something.
“I’ve had one request relating to you already, Lady Valor,” Lady Westmoreland said.
