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When there was no response, the redhead sighed audibly. “The Treaty of Utrecht?”
Now he was intrigued. To hear a female discussing any politics, foreign or domestic, was most uncommon. To hear one speaking knowledgeably and with wit was even more of a rarity. But why was she trying to have this discussion with a gaggle of ignorant debutantes? Without bothering to excuse himself, he turned his back on his fellows and cleared his throat.
The redhead turned, a triumphant smile quirking her lips. Her delighted expression, however, quickly changed to one of irritation.
Clearly, the lady had been expecting someone else.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then hesitated. There was something strangely familiar about the hazel eyes that glared up at him. An impatient brow lifted above one, and he realized he was staring. He sketched a bow. “You must pardon me, my lady, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. Colonel Herbert, Viscount Montgomery, at your service.”
Her gaze instantly grew wary. “Viscount Montgomery?”
As she spoke, a thrill of recognition ran through him. No. Surely not. He peered at her closely.
“Sabrina?” An enormous smile split his face. “By Jove, it is—the Red Pestilence!”
Her fine alabaster skin colored. It was then that he realized the other girls were staring at them in open shock. Grabbing Sabrina’s arm, he led her away from the prying eyes and too-eager ears.
“How dare you insult me so, you horrid man!” she exploded the instant he released her.
It was hard to reconcile the image of this breathtaking—and very angry—woman with the mischievous child he’d known ten years ago. The delinquent imp had certainly grown up. “I’m horrid? If memory serves, you were the one putting snakes in pockets, not I. I never said a word until after you declared war.”
“That was years ago! I am no longer a child, and for you to call me by such a name now, especially in public, is simply inexcusable.”
Curiosity pricked him. “Exactly why were you so bent on being such a nuisance, if I may ask?”
The question caught her off guard, as he’d intended. She stared at him for a long moment before her chin lifted in the defiant manner he remembered so well. “I did it for Eugenia, if you must know.”
“She put you up to all of those pranks?”
She looked uncomfortable. “Well, no. Not all of them.” He stared at her until she blushed. “None of them, actually,” she finally admitted.
“You needn’t have bothered, you know. I had no intention of marrying her.”
“You didn’t?”
He shook his head. “I was dragged to your house by my mother on a weekly basis because she had hoped that your sister and I would take a fancy to each other. Aylesford wanted the match very badly as well, but the truth is that Eugenia and I were not suited for anything beyond friendship.”
“But I thought—what I mean to say is that you appeared quite serious in your courtship,” she said, looking at him with frank suspicion.
“Just because I didn’t shout objections upon crossing the threshold didn’t mean I was a party to their plans. I chose silence as my form of protest while at your house. Eugenia understood and reciprocated in kind.”
“Oh.”
She looked so crestfallen that he couldn’t resist. “Unfortunately, I never did get to compliment you on your skill at devilry. An egregious oversight on my part, for you were a most gifted saboteur. Had I truly sought your sister’s hand, the idea of having the Pest as a member of my family would have given me serious pause.”
The look on her face said she wasn’t sure whether to take this as a compliment or an insult. “I remember how furious Aylesford was with you for interfering, the few times you were caught,” he continued. “I do hope your punishments were not overly harsh.”
A queer expression crossed her features, and another memory assaulted him. His father had written him last year and in his letter had mentioned that Aylesford, who’d been gravely ill, had finally succumbed. The girl must have only just come out of mourning.
“Please, forgive me,” he apologized at once. “I only arrived back home a few days ago, you see, and I’m afraid I simply forgot that…” He bowed his head, biting back a curse. “Truly, I beg your pardon. I did not mean to be an insensitive lout.”
He watched her struggle for composure for a moment before she answered with a shaky but brave smile. “It has been over a year, my lord. The time for mourning has passed.”
“It has been five years, and still I mourn my mother’s absence,” he replied.
She squirmed and looked away.
Damn me for an idiot! he thought, trying to think of a way to mend his disastrous misstep. As if echoing the awkwardness between them, the twang of stringed instruments being tuned drifted throughout the ballroom. Seizing the opportunity, Henry offered his arm. “May I request the honor?”
