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Two Vows and a Viscount

Page 37

by Eloisa James

“My name is Barnabus Binlap, you arse,” he said, elbowing Fiennes. “We met in the receiving line. Please forgive me, Miss Ella, but this reprobate and I were at school together, so he takes liberties. I was known as Barney in the cradle. May I have this dance?”

“Good evening, Mr. Binlap. I would be happy to dance with you,” Ella said, giving the gentleman a beaming smile.

He blinked at her, and then cried, “Be still, my heart!”

Giggling, Ella allowed herself to be drawn away.

Sometime later, Fiennes bowed before her as the strains of the first waltz began. By then, Ella had danced with Lord Devin, with Barney again, as well with several other gentlemen, none of whom seemed to scorn her as a penniless housekeeper.

When the first waltz was called, Ella looked up—and there was Fiennes, waiting for her. She’d glimpsed him now and then earlier in the evening, his expression always noncommittal and disengaged.

Bored, really. He had been bored.

He didn’t look bored when they moved into the lovely sweep of the music, his arm wrapped around her.

“You mustn’t look at me like that!” she scolded, under her breath. “You are betrothed to Fulvia!”

“You know I’m not.” His voice was raspy, and what she saw in his eyes made her duck her head. “I am praying for the meteor shower,” he told her.

“I am praying for a Juliet,” Ella told him. “Our actress has gone missing. I’m a little afraid that Fulvia will have hysterics if the performance has to be canceled.”

He leaned in. “You’d consign me to marriage to a woman who has hysterics over Shakespeare?”

Ella found herself laughing. She felt a stab of emotion at his expression, as if something winged its way directly to her chest. “No …” she whispered.

One side of his mouth quirked up. “Yes.”

They were talking without words again.

Later, when guests flooded into the supper room, Ella looked about swiftly and breathed a sigh of relief. The small tables looked fresh and beautiful, bedecked with rented linens and clusters of posies. Jarvis had requisitioned extra tables from around the house so that even the uninvited guests could be seated.

The knee-high platform where Romeo and Juliet would take place was positioned directly before the table where Fiennes sat with Fulvia, the Duke and Duchess of Lennox, Lady Regina—and one Thomas Woodward.

Surely young ladies weren’t supposed to sup with professional actors?

Her aunt had retired to bed an hour ago, and her uncle was nowhere to be seen. The viscount had insisted on turning the library into a gaming room, so likely he was to be found there.

“Where shall we sit?” Lord Devin asked.

Ella chose a table close to the door, where she could leap up to help Jarvis or the footmen if required.

“Do you think that Mr. Woodward’s presence at the table with my cousin and Lady Regina will cause a scandal?” she asked Lord Devin. He had the sort of cheerful countenance that she instinctively trusted to tell her the truth.

“No, definitely not,” he replied. “My grandmother would have been appalled, of course, but these days we’re more welcoming. The Duke and Duchess of Lennox sitting with them changes the event. These days, actors are invited to dinner in the regular course of things. Amusing fellows, some of them. Actresses … well, that’s a different kettle of fish.”

“We aren’t very sophisticated in the country,” Ella explained.

“Nothing to worry about concerning your cousin,” Lord Devin said cheerfully. “She’ll have her pick of men this Season.” He added with a mischievous twinkle, “Which is a good thing, since she’s about to lose a fiancé.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ella said.

Fiennes walked by, pausing to set down a filled plate before Ella and leaving without a word.

Lord Devin broke out into a roar of laughter, but Ella ignored him, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t eaten all day. All chatter in the room died down when Lady Regina suddenly rose and walked to the platform.

“What is she doing?” Ella asked in alarm.

“How unfortunate that your aunt and uncle have absented themselves,” Lord Devin said. “You don’t mind if I move my chair closer to you, do you? Lord Peregrine is an old friend, and I want to drive him into a frenzy.”