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She blushed. ‘Surely there are other ladies who should take precedence.’
‘Not tonight. Do you realise we have never yet danced together?’
‘I do.’
She was filled with exhilaration at the idea but when he went to lead her on to
the dance floor she held back.
‘I would have no misunderstandings between us, my lord. Your sister brought me, in Lady Blanchards’s place.’
‘Did she?’
‘Do you not mind? You had advised them all to leave Brussels.’
‘How can I object, since her staying means I can now dance with you?’
Mary flushed with pleasure, from her toes to the top of her head. She knew her cheeks would be pink and her eyes sparkling, but it no longer mattered. Let everyone see how she felt about the earl, how he felt about her. Tonight they would be happy and tomorrow... She would not think of the morrow.
They took their place in the set and as they waited for the music to begin Mary looked around, desperately trying to find something to say rather than merely smiling like a simpleton.
‘I see Major Flint is here and looking very smart.’
Randall gave a short laugh, his eyes flicking quickly to his half-brother.
‘Yes, he has been cutting me out with the ladies all evening, but I shall make sure I keep you well away from him.’ He leaned closer. ‘You are mine, Mary Endacott.’
His words and his glowing look sent a shiver of happiness through Mary. The music began and she danced in a joyful haze. At one stage she found herself standing beside Sarah, who took the chance to bemoan the fact that her twin was not present.
‘I was sure Gideon would be here tonight, but Colonel Bennington Ffog says they only had a few invitations and the officers drew lots for them. I haven’t the heart to refuse to dance with all those who have asked me, not when they will be going off to fight at any moment.’ She pouted. ‘But I really wish I could have spoken to Gideon.’
The movement of the dance separated them and Mary did not give Sarah another thought. She forgot about everything except the delight of being with Randall. They danced twice, three times and Mary protested that people would talk.
‘Let them.’ Randall replied carelessly. ‘It does not matter who knows about us now.’
She laughed, giddy with happiness as he led her from the floor, but the little worm of anxiety gnawed away at her when she saw the number of officers bustling around Wellington. She was not surprised when Randall excused himself a few minutes later. She let him go with a smile. Not for the world would she add to his worries by tears or anxious looks.
Mary made her way around the edge of the room, but as she did so she became aware that she was attracting attention. Ladies glanced at her and lifted their fans to whisper to their neighbours. She tried to ignore it, but she knew what was happening. She had danced too often with Randall. People were remembering how often she had been in company with him, probably some had seen him entering her house, others might connect her with the veiled figure leaving his lodgings that morning. A sly look and laughing comment from one of the ladies she had met at the Appletons’ party convinced her. Everyone now knew she was Randall’s mistress.
She kept her head up and her smile in place. To slink away would be to admit shame and she felt none. She loved Randall and he loved her, let the world think what it wished.
* * *
Randall returned to the ballroom. The music was still playing, the floor still crowded with dancers, but if he had missed one set or two he had no idea, his mind was working on the orders he had received. He must find Mary and take his leave of her. He looked around, searching the room for her dainty figure in its white gown and deep red sash. At last he found her and hurried up to take her hands.
‘We have our orders,’ he said. ‘I do not have long; I have already sent word to my lodgings.’ He grinned, although it was an effort. ‘I am prepared to ride directly to the battlefield in full dress, but I’m damned if I will do so in my dancing shoes.’
Someone tapped him on the arm, one of a group of gentlemen wanting to know what was going on. He was drawn into the crowd, everyone asking if there was any news. To the civilians he gave a vague reply, to fellow officers his answer was brief: the French were within hours of the city. It was time to move.
Mary made no effort to follow him. He would come back to her before he left, she was sure of it, but tonight he was a soldier first, and must do his duty.
‘Mary!’ She looked round to find Lady Sarah at her side. ‘Is everything well? You and Justin look so, so happy together.’
Mary nodded.
‘It is very well,’ she said. ‘My heart is so full, Sarah, I think it may burst. Randall—Justin—explained something, he wanted me to understand why he was so against marriage.’ She clutched Sarah’s hand. ‘It was not easy for him, but I believe it was a testament to just how much he loves me.’ Mary did not think her smile could grow any wider. ‘I am so happy, Sarah, I am confident that Randall has fought his last battle.’ She giggled, suddenly feeling quite ecstatic. ‘And I am to be his countess!’
A movement close by made her look up and she saw Randall returning. She put out her hand, but even as she did so his attention was caught by someone across the room and with no more than a faint nod he turned and walked to the door. Mary’s eyes followed him. Robbins was waiting for him in the doorway and looking very grim.
