She followed the flight of a group of sparrows as Mama and Lady Redvers changed the subject and talked about the absolute tragedy of young debutantes wearing yellow that Season. Why not the traditional white? The world was going to the dogs.
A familiar, broad silhouette caught her attention. She must have focused on the man too long because Mama and Lady Redvers stopped talking and followed her gaze.
“Oh, goodness,” Lady Redvers said. “It’s him.”
“Who?” Mama asked, shifting her gaze from Lady Redvers to the new baron.
Royston stopped in front of them and removed his tall hat, letting his luscious curls tumble down his jaw. “Lady Redvers, Mrs. Haywood.” He acknowledged the maid before tilting his head towards Angeline and giving her a smile. “Miss Haywood. What a pleasant surprise.”
Angeline curtsied, but Mama remained stiff, even cold. “Mr. Alexander? Is that you? My goodness, it’s been a while.”
Lady Redvers shot her an incendiary glare.
“Mama,” Angeline said. “This is Lord Wharton. The queen bestowed a title upon him after his show of bravery during the Theatre Royal fire.”
Mama’s lips parted. For once, she was speechless. “Apologies, Lord Wharton. I had no idea.” She curtsied.
“Apologies accepted, madam.” Royston bowed again. “I trust you ladies are having a fine promenade.”
“Lovely, my lord,” Lady Redvers said in an overly cheerful tone. “Thank you for having come to the ball last night although I was sorry to see you leave early.” A strained note crept into her voice.
“I apologise. An urgent matter required my attention.” He tensed, tossing a fleeting glance at Angeline. “But believe me, my lady, it was a night I won’t forget.”
Goodness. Neither would she. So he was as pleased as she was for their secret encounter.
“Such lovely music last night,” Mama said. “It’s a shame I didn’t see you there, my lord. Angeline didn’t tell me she’d seen you.” She glared at Angeline.
Yes, Angeline hadn’t said anything because Mama had been too busy ranting.
“The baron didn’t really mingle.” Lady Redvers chuckled. “I wonder why you didn’t dance, Wharton.”
A muscle in Royston’s jaw ticked. Angeline couldn’t deny her curiosity. Dancing was a sensitive subject for him.
The viscountess continued, “My daughter, Georgiana, would have loved to dance with you. You remember my daughter, don’t you, Wharton?”
Royston nodded. “Of course I do. The lady with the red hair and the green gown.”
Lady Redvers’s smile vanished. “No, Wharton. I believe you’re confusing Georgiana with my niece Therese. Georgiana has brown hair like mine and wore a pink gown.”
Mama seemed to fight a chuckle.
Royston opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.
“Sometimes it’s difficult to remember every name and face at a ball, isn’t it?” Angeline said to help him.
His crooked smile was worthy of a pirate. “Do not worry, Miss Haywood. I would never forget yours.”
A hot flare of excitement crept over her cheeks. “Thank you, my lord.”
Every gaze turned towards her— Lady Redvers’s angry one, Mama’s surprised one, and the Redvers maid’s a knowing one.
“I hope to see you soon, Wharton,” Lady Redvers said in a less cheerful tone than before. “There are many balls and events to attend at this time of the year. Georgiana will be present as well.”
“I’ll do my best to attend, but it’s a particularly busy moment for me,” Royston said. “My newest venture requires much of my time.”
“What venture, my lord?” Mama slightly stepped in front of Lady Redvers, almost blocking the viscountess’s view.
“I acquired a steel factory, madam.”
