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“This is more enjoyable than London, in many ways,” Eleanor said, laughing. She tipped her head back up to share an intimate look with Edwin and he couldn’t help but grin back at her; she was so alight with happiness. He, too, preferred Bath at the moment. “I much prefer the room to dance – and plenty of gentlemen to dance with – than to some of the crushes that we attended during the Season.”
Undaunted by her reference to the many gentlemen, Edwin just slid his hand to her hip and tightened his fingers a bit. “I prefer the gentlemen here as well.”
Eleanor laughed, tapping her fan against his chest in teasing reproof, as Wesley chuckled. Miss Bryant looked confused, but of course she wouldn’t understand that the London ballrooms were filled with the kind of gentlemen that Edwin would prefer to keep away from his wife. He was sure that he was fulfilling Eleanor’s needs, she would never become one of the bored matrons of the ton if he had anything to say about it, but he still preferred to keep her away from the rakes and roués that were always looking for a bored matron and a complacent husband.
Most of the gentlemen here were either younger men who had fled the capital and the matchmaking mamas as soon as it was permissible or older men who didn’t have wives to insist they finish out the very end of the Season. The older gentlemen were the ones that would be looking at Miss Bryant as a bride, the younger men were practicing their flirts with her, but the truly dangerous gentlemen who were present took one look at Wesley and moved on to easier game. Although, Edwin had seen more than one of them acknowledge her; apparently before Wesley’s arrival Miss Bryant had made the acquaintance of every single rakehell currently in Bath.
One of the older gentlemen, Mr. Bright, came up to claim Miss Bryant’s hand for the next dance. Perfectly eligible, cousin to a Marquess, and obviously on the lookout for a wife, and yet Wesley gave the man a suspicious look anyway. This time even Eleanor caught his obvious reluctance to let Miss Bryant off his arm. Edwin saw the surprise on her face before Mr. Marks came to claim her for the next dance. She shot a glance at Edwin, her sapphire eyes sparkling with amusement at Wesley’s behavior.
Just then, the Countess appeared at Wesley’s side, a pretty but very young lady at her side. Actually beaming at her son, she pushed the young miss forward.
“Wesley, this is Miss Whyte. She’ll be making her debut next Season in London but her mother wanted her to experience some of the social life here in Bath before that. Miss Whyte, this is my son, the Earl of Spencer.”
“Oh!” Miss Whyte said, fluttering her eyelashes up at him as if his title was news to her. Which was ridiculous considering that the Countess must have already told her. If she hadn’t even come out yet then she must still be technically in the schoolroom. Dressed in a charming pastel pink dress that was the height of fashion, and nevertheless made her look rather washed out with her pale hair and eyes, she was the epitome of everything that Wesley avoided while in London. She dropped to a curtsy, fluttering her eyelashes. “It’s an honor to meet you my Lord.”
She simpered up at him and Edwin barely smothered his laugh as Wesley stared at her, then his mother, in complete horror. It was only as the breathless miss looked up to meet his eyes again that he blanked the expression from his face.
"Miss Whyte," he said, bowing over her hand. "May I also introduce my friend, Lord Hyde."
"My lord," Miss Whyte said in acknowledgment, but without the simper. It was obvious that the Countess had informed her that Edwin was ineligible as future husband material. Which was a relief; he only had to deal with the bored matrons that Wesley normally preferred, who were looking for a sensual distraction from their husbands. Debs no longer had any interest in him whatsoever.
"Miss Whyte was just telling me how much she loves to dance," the Countess said, absolutely irrepressible, despite the glare that her son was giving her over the young lady's head. Ignoring him completely, she gave the young miss an encouraging smile, before turning it onto Wesley himself. "My son is a wonderful dancer."
"Yes, but as you see I can't desert Lord Hyde and leave him bereft of all company."
"Oh, I can certainly keep Edwin company," the Countess said, her gaze sharpening. "I had something I particularly wanted to speak of with him."
There was nothing Wesley could do at that point; his mother had neatly trapped him into a position where his options were either to be unconscionably rude or to ask the young lady to dance. And Wesley always did what was proper, especially in front of his mother.
Covering up his chagrin with a bow, Wesley held out his hand to Miss Whyte. "Well then. Miss Whyte, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"
"Oh yes, my Lord," she said breathlessly, eyes shining with anticipatory pleasure that bordered on being predatory, despite the fact that she couldn’t have missed his reluctance. It was that kind of behavior that made Edwin eternally grateful that he had Eleanor; even when she had first been presented, he couldn't imagine Nell behaving like that.
The set had just started, so they'd barely missed a step, and Wesley led the young woman out onto the floor to join the other couples.
"There was something you wished to speak of with me?" Edwin asked, rather curious now. He couldn't think of anything the Countess might wish to say to him that she couldn't say in front of others.
"No of course not, don't be dense. I just needed Wesley to dance with Miss Whyte."
Edwin laughed at the Countess' high handed ways. "Why? You can't imagine he would seriously consider a schoolroom miss like her, not even next Season when she's out."
The Countess shook her head. "Really Edwin, your lack of experience in the marriage mart is appalling. My son is bound and determined to marry a proper young chit, at some point in the future, but he'd be absolutely miserable with the kind of milk and water miss he'd undoubtedly pick out for himself. And no matter what he thinks, having a mistress, or even several, on the side can't make up for that. Once he’s been forced to interact with a few of them, he'll realize his intolerance for them and my Cynthia will look even better by comparison."
"Your Cynthia?" Edwin asked; he'd been following the Countess' logic up to a certain point but she'd just lost him completely. "What does she have to do with it?"
"Why, she's perfect for him, of course!" The Countess waved her hand at the dance floor where it was perfectly obvious to Edwin, knowing his friend as he did, that Wesley's attention was focused far more on his ward than on the chattering Miss Whyte. "She's clever, she's lively, she's far more interesting than any of the usual misses - Nell excluded of course, and he's already interested in her but he's resisting. The twit." She snorted. "I drag him all the way out of London to Bath so that he could see her before any other real competition engages her attention and he can't see what's in front of his face."
"I thought you were despairing of her," Edwin said, thoroughly startled and slightly in awe. He hadn't realized how devious the Countess was.
"Well I was, a bit," she admitted, continuing to watch the couples whirl around the floor, looking rather calculating. "She's a handful, but that's what makes her perfect for Wesley. He'd never be happy with a woman who didn't have a sense of adventure and the gumption to indulge in it. Cynthia has a bit of maturing to do, but I'll be here to guide her, and Wesley needs to snap her up before some other, more discerning and ready to act, gentleman realizes what a treasure she is. Of course, the more young misses I can push at him that drive him batty, the more he'll appreciate Cynthia." That last was said rather contemplatively, her eyes already roving around the room as if looking for her next decoy.
"My god..." Edwin stared at her in complete wonder. Thank goodness he'd had the sense to shackle himself to Nell immediately, and he was even more grateful that his mother preferred to stay out of London. Although, he didn't mind giving up his bachelorhood and rakehell days for his wife, so perhaps his mother wouldn't have resorted to such straights.
Although, he could see Eleanor's mother doing so if she thought that he w
as blind to Nell's charms. After all, her own father had been the one to approach him. Obviously no one felt he needed as delicate a hand as Wesley had.
The Countess smiled as she watched the couples on the dance floor. This particular set required some switching of partners throughout the dance, and Wesley had masterfully maneuvered himself and Miss Whyte so that they would be trading with Mr. Bright and Cynthia.
