Page 31 of Wit, Wiles and Courtship

Maybe you should be the one. After all, you have given him up as an interest in your own right. So you would only be doing him a service—Pembroke, and whichever lady he finally sets his sights on. That would make it a selfless gesture, would it not?

She had no more occasion to give this any thought, for the musicians had finished warming up, and the couples were finding their places on the floor. Mr. Islip had not strayed far and was already bowing before her, ready to lead her out. It was a rather dull beginning to her night.

Chapter 12

Rowe arrived at Almack’s accompanied by his mother. He would likely have gone to the assembly hall even had he not needed to escort her, but his decision was removed once she expressed her desire to attend. She was friends with several of the patronesses, and it was a simple matter to have a voucher sent for her.

He looked down the length of Almack’s, and for some whimsical reason, the room seemed enchanted. That was certainly a first. The conversation was light and airy, and the musicians played a gay tune. The chandeliers cast their glimmering candlelight against the pale drinks set out for the guests and reflected on the jewels at women’s throats.

“You seem to be searching for someone. Who is it?” His mother was nothing if not blunt.

“No one, I assure you. It is only that the room is so crowded it’s difficult to see who is here.” The thought occurred to him that he would do well to find friends for his mother. “Is there anyone you would like to see in particular?”

“I suppose I will speak with Lady Berkley if she is here. And I will wish to speak to Lady Jersey. It has been an age.”

That should keep her occupied for a while, he thought. Out loud he said, “Lady Jersey wasn’t at the entrance. Perhaps she is with the matrons sitting there. Or maybe we will find Lady Berkley.”

He gave his mother his arm. As they advanced countercurrent to the crowd, he spotted Laverock, a man he normally would have ignored, but who now caught his interest because of the attention he paid to Camilla. Why he would be interested in her, Rowe couldn’t hazard a guess. It was not that she lacked wealth or beauty, for she had both. But why her? There was Lady Anne Beverin, also the daughter of an earl, who possessed both qualities in greater measure. And Miss Gumtree who, although not of the peerage, was considered lovely and very well-dowered.

Without giving thought to his movements, he stopped to address him. “Laverock. How do you do?”

The man showed surprise that he should be addressed by someone he did not know well and who generally took pains to avoid him. Rowe also wondered what had possessed him to speak to the man suddenly like that and was still wondering at his own behavior when Mr. Laverock stopped and bowed.

“I am very well, I thank you, Lord Pembroke.”

Rowe now had to scramble for a reason for having stopped him. Desperation sharpened his wits, and he remembered the friend he often saw Laverock in company with. “I was wondering if Mr. Keyworth has come this evening. I have a matter to discuss with him.” Keyworth was a Parliament man, and he could ask him about the vote coming through both houses.

“Ah. No, I believe he is not here this evening.” When Rowe murmured his thanks, Mr. Laverock hesitated only a moment longer before taking his leave. “If you will excuse me, I must find Lady Camilla, for we are engaged for a dance.”

He bowed and walked off, leaving Rowe with a sense of irritation that he could only turn against himself. Whatever had possessed him to address Laverock in that spontaneous way? Now he would have to formulate some question to put to Keyworth on a vote he did not care about just to save face.

“Who is he?” his mother asked at his side. It was not an idle question. She would wish to know if he was worth knowing and what had possessed Rowe to speak to him.

“No one of consequence. It is someone I know from the clubs, and we have met again in Lady Camilla’s drawing room.”

“And Lady Camilla is…?”

She let the question dangle, making him aware of his second inadvertent slip. He had not intended to let his mother know that Camilla held more interest for him than any other female. And if she did pique his interest, it was only because of their two families’ connection. He viewed her quite as an old friend and wished to look out for her. However, if his mother sensed even the smallest degree of interest on his side, she would examine Camilla’s pedigree, then make an excuse to call on her. Lady Camilla Rowlandson lacked nothing in pedigree, but he did not wish to subject her to scrutiny or lead her to the wrong conclusion.

No matter how innocent his intentions, his mother would surely suspect something, for he never spoke of a lady in his mother’s presence, and with good reason. Now, whether it was providence or a stroke of ill luck, Camilla was walking toward him. He hoped she was not going in search of Laverock, who was headed in the opposite direction. Her gaze snagged on his, and she slowed her steps.

“You are about to meet her now,” he said to his mother before bowing before Camilla. “Good evening. Mother, this is Lady Camilla Rowlandson. Her sister is married to Miles. Lady Camilla, may I present you to my mother? This is Lady Throckmorton.”

“Good evening, my lady,” Camilla said, dipping into a curtsy.

“Your sister is married to Mr. Shaw, is she?” His mother’s lips were pressed in a firm line, for when she had learned of Rowe’s gift to his cousin of one of the unentailed estates he had inherited, she had called it the highest piece of folly she had ever heard. This was not saying much, for there were many things she considered to be folly, but he knew he had greatly displeased her. To be giving away your parcels of land to impoverished relatives! Not for the world could she be made to believe that Miles wasn’t an indigent relative.

“Yes, Dorothea has had that fortune. And it is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Camilla smiled with more warmth than he had seen from her lately, and he wondered what it was about meeting his mother that would produce this reaction.

“Indeed a pleasure,” his mother replied, although he could see that she had unbent a little at Camilla’s frank nature.

Rather than hurrying off in search of her dance partner, Camilla stayed. He was torn between two desires: prolonging the conversation with her now, and asking her for a dance that would give them the opportunity for a longer conversation later in the evening. For this request, however, he did not wish for his mother to be present when he asked.

Camilla spoke first, turning to Lady Throckmorton. “You must be proud of Lord Pembroke.”

His mother’s eyes showed her confusion. “Naturally I am.” Her lifted brows seemed to beg the question—and you? What do you see in my son? Rowe wished he had that answer.

“He is liked by everyone,” Lady Camilla went on pleasantly, as though she were not saying anything out of the ordinary. “And from what Mr. Shaw has told me about his cousin, Lord Pembroke shows superior understanding in managing his estate, and this in addition to all the other pursuits in which he excels. Horsemanship, gentlemanly sports—a true Corinthian, some say.”