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“Perhaps some other time, Somerwell,” Will said quickly.
“Of course.” He bowed and withdrew, although he was quickly replaced by several others, eager to secure Rosie’s hand or, failing that, Angie’s. Amongst them was Lord Albury, who was in time to secure Rosie for the supper dance and Angie for the cotillion. When Rosie became engulfed by her admirers, he politely stayed chatting to Stepmother and Will for several minutes more, before withdrawing.
“So the rumours are true,” said a disdainful voice. “A good match for her — an earldom, no less. You must be very pleased with yourselves.”
Will turned to see Lady Plummer gazing at them imperiously. Behind her, Lady Charles glowered, Lord Charles looked bored and Mr Michael Plummer looked anxious. Not for the first time, Will wished that fate had given them less supercilious neighbours in Hertfordshire.
“How crowded it is here,” Lady Plummer said, without waiting for a reply. “Such a mêlée. I declare, Lady Carrbridge invites more people every year, and such extraordinary people. But then these apartments are so large that she must needs invite half London to fill them. I am sure even her mantua maker is here.”
Will admired the subtlety of the insult, and wondered idly whether the Fletchers ranked above or below a mantua maker in Lady Plummer’s eyes. Below, he decided. Definitely below.
“How are you, Lady Plummer?” Stepmother said, keeping firmly to the proprieties. “Lady Charles? You are well, I hope?”
“We are all well,” Lady Plummer said gruffly. “Forgive us, Mrs Fletcher, but I see Lady Halstock over there.”
And without another word, she stalked away, with Lord and Lady Charles scurrying behind her.
Mr Michael Plummer stayed behind, however, lingering beside Will. “They are very popular,” he said, nodding towards Rosie and Angie, the one serene as always, and the other bouncing with excitement. “I shall have no chance of dancing with either of them. Not that Mother would approve of that. She always steers me towards Lady Something or the Honourable Miss Something. She is very keen to see me married into the nobility. Whereas Father would like me to find someone with a handsome fortune.”
“What doyouwant?” Will said.
“Does it matter?” he said gloomily.
“What sort of woman would you wish to marry?” Will said.
He expected Plummer to dither over the question, or perhaps refuse to answer, but instead he burst out with fierce intensity, “She would be above average height, willowy and slender, with auburn hair too plentiful to hold a curl, shining green eyes, a nose too long for beauty and a mouth too wide, which nevertheless smiles a great deal.”
“Ah,” Will said, understanding. “She sounds utterly delightful. But in such a case, you may surely tell your parents that you have no wish to marry, and now that your brother is betrothed—”
“It makes no difference!” Plummer hissed. “Theyhoundme — Mother and Letitia go on and on about it, how I always said that I would marry when I reached the age of thirty, so why can I not just grit my teeth and get on with it, and then Father—” He heaved a sigh. “Father says he will never push me into anything I dislike, but then he looks so sorrowful. He stares at me over the port, and sighs and looks so sad that I just have not the heart to fight it, Fletcher, and that is the truth. I wish I were more like James. He has always done just as he pleased, with never a thought for the rest of us, whereas I—”
“You are too conscientious, that is your trouble,” Will said cheerfully. “If you could—”
Plummer uttered a low moan. “Here is Mother now, looking for me. She will have some eligible girl in mind. It is unendurable, Fletcher!”
“Quick, come with me,” Will said, grabbing his arm and setting off smartly in the opposite direction from Lady Plummer. “I am going to find my betrothed, and you can walk about the room with me while I do so, and we can see if we can forestall her ladyship and find you a partner.”
“But who can I find who will satisfy Mother?”
“All you need, Plummer, is a willing girl. Even Lady Plummer cannot object, so long as you are dancing.”
“You do not know her,” Plummer muttered, but he allowed himself to be towed to the far end of the ballroom, where the Malpas family smiled in relief at the sight of Will’s familiar face.
“Mrs Malpas… Emmy… Malpas,” Will said, making his bows. “May I present to you a neighbour from Hertfordshire, Mr Michael Plummer, the eldest son of Sir Owen Plummer. Plummer, these are my very good friends from Sagborough, Mrs Malpas, Miss Malpas, Mr Jacob Malpas, who is the current mayor. Emmy, are you dancing tonight? If so, Mr Plummer is very keen to secure your hand for the first two.”
“Indeed, I should be delighted,” Plummer said politely, although looking askance at Will, for Emmy Malpas was no oil painting. After a few minutes, when they moved away, he whispered to Will, “Really, Fletcher?”
“A hundred thousand pounds,” Will whispered back. “Even your mother cannot object tothat.And after you have danced with Emmy, who is a quiet little thing who will not plague you with chatter, by the way — very restful. As I say, after that, you need only look about you for someone who is not dancing.”
“But if I do not know her?”
“You make some commonplace remark to her mother or aunt, whoever is chaperoning her.‘How crowded the room is,’perhaps. Or,‘What a delightful evening, everyone is so friendly.’That sort of thing. Then you say how much you love to dance, but you do not know many people, and within seconds the daughter will be introduced and you may ask her to dance. Nothing to it, and perfectly acceptable at a private ball like this. And it will keep your mama at bay, you see, if you find partners for yourself.”
“Commonplace remark… love to dance…” Plummer frowned over it, but just then the musicians, who had been warming up for some time, now fell silent and the butler banged his staff on the floor to announce the opening minuet.
Watching with a practised eye, Will had to admit it was rather well done. The marquess was an elegant dancer, and the duchess, although no longer in the glow of youthfulness, acquitted herself creditably. The antiquated costumes they both wore gave an air of theatre to the performance. The duke, beaming at them both from a throne-like chair, appeared to have something in his eye, causing it to water. Altogether, it was a pleasing start to the evening.
As the sets began to form for the first dance, Will searched in earnest for Eloise. Having exhausted the ballroom, he ran her to ground in one of the supper rooms, looking rather harassed as she gave orders to the scurrying footmen.
