Daphne felt a glow inside at the earl’s compliment, but it was followed by a little pang of disappointment that he had not thought of her himself.
Still, she smiled her thanks at him. “You are aware, I think, of my fondness for animals. Mihos holds a special place in my heart.”
“He is not a bad fellow,” his lordship allowed.
Daphne thought the cat had worked his way into the earl’s unwilling heart, but kept her opinion to herself. She called to an eager maid of about fourteen years and gave instructions on watching the cat and what to do if he woke. Another maid entered the kitchen and reported that Miss Shelby had recovered and had asked for tea.
Hearing Hamish grumbling about his roast having to be kept warm, Daphne gathered her medicines and impulsively turned to the earl. “My lord, would you care to dine with us this evening?”
Lord Ravenswood put a hand to his head. “Good God, the Blenkinsops. I was to dine with them before Almack’s. I have been horribly rude, as they expected me almost an hour ago.”
“Almack’s,” Hamish blustered. “Glad I ain’t a member of the Quality and forced to drink that weak punch I hear they serve.”
Daphne ignored the cook and pinned a bright expression on her face. “You must go, then, my lord, and perhaps I shall see you later at Almack’s.”
Lord Ravenswood bowed. “Thank you for your invaluable assistance, Miss Kendall, and for your kind invitation to dine. As you are to attend Almack’s as well, may I ask that you save a waltz for me?”
Daphne’s breath caught in her throat. He was standing so close. His eyes held hers and mentally took her to that place where they were alone. “Yes, I shall save you a waltz,” she whispered.
Lord Ravenswood kept his gaze on hers for a moment while he gave a last stroke to Mihos’s head. Then he left the room.
Daphne stood imagining how it would feel to be held in the earl’s arms for their promised dance. She remembered hoping at the Huntingdon’s musicale that she might share a dance with him tonight at Almack’s, and now her wish would be granted.
She absently washed her hands, then reached behind her to untie the apron about her waist, and her hands froze. Heavens! After all the trouble she had put herself and Biggs through earlier deciding on a gown to wear, here his lordship had seen her in her oldest, plainest gown!
Tarnation! Embarrassment brought color to her cheeks, and she determined she would captivate him at Almack’s.
Then a stray thought flitted across her mind. Was she capable of affecting the aloof earl in matters of the heart? Or was he destined to become yet another gentleman put off by her Fatal Flaw?
If only she knew what it was.
* * * *
Lord Chesterfield’s observation, about how gentlemen would flock to Daphne’s side now that Miss Oakswine was dead, proved accurate. Daphne herself had no idea Miss Oakswine had ever put about such a nonsensical story about living with her once she was wed. Therefore the attentions she received when she arrived at Almack’s bewildered her, pleasing as they were.
Miss Shelby remained at her side before the first dance, making predictions about each gentlemen who rushed to present himself.
Of Sir Tredair, she said he fancied himself a poet and would bore her to death with his prose.
Puritan-looking Lord Edgecombe was undoubtedly a monk in a former life.
Mr. Smythe-Benton’s thoughts were impure in the extreme, Miss Shelby said while fanning her cheeks vigorously.
Daphne giggled through all of Miss Shelby’s declarations. In truth, she found none of the gentlemen interested her, save one who had yet to make his appearance.
Her dance card was filling rapidly so she hastily scribbled Lord Ravenswood’s name for the second waltz of the evening.
At present Lord Guy bowed before her. “Miss Kendall, I congratulate you on a wise choice of gowns for one with your hair color.”
Daphne could not miss the implication that red hair was not the fashion. While she knew it to be the truth, it was rude of Lord Guy to remind her. She gritted her teeth. “Thank you, my lord.”
His coat this evening was vibrant purple. The intricately embroidered waistcoat he wore contained threads of every shade of purple Daphne had ever seen. His quizzing glass was encrusted in amethysts.
“May I hope, Miss Kendall, that you have a dance for me?”
“The first waltz is not yet claimed,” Daphne replied. She had reserved it for him, thinking it would give her an opportunity to talk with him and thereby further Miss Shelby’s case.
Lord Guy was content. He had noted the number of gentlemen bestowing their attentions on pretty Miss Kendall. She was in demand. Therefore Lord Guy wished for her presence at his side to increase his own consequence.
He raised her gloved hand to his lips and kissed the air above it. “Every minute that passes until our dance will seem an hour.”
And every minute spent
with him
will seem an hour, Daphne mused. She dropped a polite curtsy to Lord Guy before he moved away.
Her first partner, Lord Christopher, was an amiable gentleman who danced well and set himself to please. But Daphne’s attention was soon caught by the party just entering the room. Lord Ravenswood escorted Mrs. Blenkinsop and her daughter, Elfleta.
The earl had changed his clothes since his visit to her house earlier. He now wore a very dark blue evening coat over pearl-colored breeches.
Daphne felt a rush of excitement upon seeing him. He was the most handsome gentleman in the room, she decided in that instant.
Well, she thought, tilting her head and attempting to study him objectively, perhaps if she viewed all the gentlemen in the room impartially, the earl’s features to some would not be the most pleasing. It did not matter. What was significant was the effect Lord Ravenswood’s company had upon her.
Seeing the direction of her gaze, Lord Christopher said, “Ravenswood is back in England after a long absence. Do you know him?”
Daphne flushed at her discourteous behavior in ignoring her partner. “Yes, I have made his acquaintance.”
“I do not expect he will be in Town long.”
Daphne raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Happy to have her attention at last, Lord Christopher warmed to his subject. “Everyone knows the earl is only in London while his country estate is made livable again. He cares for Raven’s Hall much more than his father ever did. You know the old earl married a beautiful, younger woman who led him to his ruin.”
“No, I did not know,” Daphne replied slowly. Her gaze traveled back to where Lord Ravenswood stood in conversation with Mrs. Blenkinsop and Elfleta. They had come from their dinner together, she surmised, and the earl was continuing to award his attentions to Elfleta.
Lord Christopher nodded his head toward the couple. “Miss Blenkinsop would never follow in those types of footsteps. Quiet little thing. Would not give Ravenswood a minute’s trouble. And I imagine he would value a compliant wife.”
Daphne pursed her lips. Was that what Lord Ravenswood was looking for here in Town during the Season? A compliant wife? How disappointing. How dull. It was certainly a good thing she learned this bleak truth before she became overly fond of him!
Her dance with Lord Christopher ended, and her next partner came to claim her. For an hour Daphne danced and flirted with several gentlemen, all the while a part of her mind dwelled on Lord Ravenswood and his search for a submissive wife. One fact was clear in her brain: she could never be thought of as docile and manageable.
It was only when Lord Guy minced over to her with a glass of lemonade that she was able to turn her thoughts to other matters.
“You must be thirsty, Miss Kendall, after being dragged about the dance floor by those clodpoles,” Lord Guy asserted in his superior way.
In truth, something to drink was welcome, but Daphne feared Lord Guy’s presence alone was enough to put a sour taste in her mouth, without the addition of the tart lemonade. She reminded herself of Miss Shelby’s reputation, though, and thanked him warmly.
Across the room Anthony watched them with a jaundiced eye. He stood beside Mrs. Blenkinsop, who was holding a conversation with another woman. Miss Blenkinsop had been led away for the dance.
Anthony could hear Mrs. Blenkinsop boasting at the fact that her daughter’s hand had been immediately solicited for a dance by no less a personage than a marquess upon their entering the ballroom. He believed the calculating woman had probably arranged it herself. He was no green one and recognized blatant attempts at matchmaking when he saw them.
The Blenkinsops had been all affability when he had tried to apologize for his tardiness earlier at dinner. But of course, they gushed sympathetically, they understood about the accident. And how was the poor dear kitty? Why, their Elf would be positively downhearted at the thought of an animal being hurt.
This assertion had not proven correct, however, in Anthony’s estimation. Upon hearing the story of Mihos’s accident, Elfleta had asked quietly if the cat was dead. When assured it was not, no great relief could be detected on her pale face.
Anthony found himself puzzled at his own reaction to Miss Blenkinsop’s uncaring attitude toward Mihos. What did it matter if she disliked animals? He was surely not allowing the striped cat to hold a place in his affections, he thought, forgetting how his heart had stood still when he saw the cat lying on the road unconscious.
Still, he could not help but compare Elfleta’s disregard for the cat’s well-being to Miss Kendall’s compassionate nursing of the animal.
He gave himself a mental shake. There were enough servants at Raven’s Hall to handle any injuries to the creatures in their care. It would not matter if his wife ignored the needs of animals.
Furthermore it was absurd to make the assumption that Miss Kendall’s caring nature for animals would extend to humans, most particularly himself. His chances of leading a peaceful, well-ordered existence were much greater if he chose a plain, obedient girl to wed, regardless of how lukewarm her nature was.
Elfleta was returned by the marquess to her mama, who cheerfully handed her daughter over to the earl for the waltz.
On the floor Anthony marveled at the fragile girl who performed the steps of the waltz flawlessly.
“Miss Blenkinsop, I must congratulate you on your dancing.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Did you spend many hours with a dancing master?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I am not holding you too tightly, am I?”
“No, my lord.”
Anthony felt smug. She was exactly what he wanted in a wife. Then he raised a gloved hand to cover his yawn.
In the act of doing so, he spied Miss Kendall being twirled about the room in the arms of Lord Guy. Her auburn hair shone in the candlelight.
’Twas a pity Lord Guy would not appreciate her beauty, being too concerned with his own. The coxcomb did know how to dance, he would give him that. He wondered how Miss Kendall’s plan to clear Miss Shelby’s name was progressing.
Dancing with Lord Guy, Daphne was very much pleased with the way things were going. Even though the fop would never admit it was he who stole the ivory cat figurine from the duchess, he had been brought around to saying he did not think it all likely Miss Shelby had been the culprit.
Daphne smiled at him. “Oh, Lord Guy, I am happy to hear you say that. Dear Leonie has been so troubled by the whole affair.”
“Well,” Lord Guy said a bit uncomfortably, “my Aunt does have a way of taking an idea and running with it.”
Daphne nodded knowingly. “I am certain the duchess would take your word if you were to express the opinion that Miss Shelby was innocent.”
Lord Guy looked doubtful. “Best, perhaps, to let sleeping dogs lie, what?”
Daphne looked shocked. “If only you could! But I know someone of your honor and integrity could not let an innocent woman stand accused of a crime she did not commit. No, indeed. Why, it would totally go against your nature.”
Lord Guy puffed out his chest. “Alas, what we gentlemen suffer—gladly, mind you—in the name of honor. Yes, I shall speak to my Aunt, Miss Kendall, never fear.”
Daphne felt a twinge of conscience as Lord Guy strolled away. She really had turned him up sweet for her own motives. But these motives were of the purest, she reminded herself, which was more than she could say for Lord Guy’s purposes.
Her hand was claimed for every dance. She had no time to converse with Miss Shelby, who she thought appeared bored to death, sitting with the other chaperons. Daphne decided Leonie was missing Eugene’s company. The manservant must have decided to wait outside for the earl.
At last Lord Ravenswood bowed over her hand. “Miss Shelby told me you saved the second waltz for me.”
Daphne found herself trembling at the touch of his gloved hand and chided herself for behaving like a young miss in her first Season. “Yes, my lord.”
The music began, and he swept her into his arms.
If she felt shaky before, it was nothing compared to me rush of feelings coursing through her now. The pressure of the earl’s hand at her waist was light, yet her body responded as if he was using all his strength to pull her against him. She was shocked down to her soul to find herself wanting to close the distance between them.
None of this inner struggle showed on her face, however. “You will want to know that Mihos awakened before I left home. He took a little water and fell asleep.”
“I am relieved to hear it. He will not be too much of a burden for you, will he?’ Lord Ravenswood asked, straining to keep his gaze well above the green velvet band that framed the low cut of her dress.
“Not at all,” Daphne assured him. It was difficult to keep her breathing steady with his face so close to hers. She noticed his eyelashes were black and heavy. “I am looking forward to seeing some of the artifacts you brought back from Egypt, my lord.”
“I hope you will not be disappointed, Miss Kendall.” God, but her skin looked smooth. He longed to rip off his glove and touch her shoulder with his bare fingertip to see if it could possibly feel as soft as it looked.
And the way she smelled reminded him of the flowers that grew in spring at Raven’s Hall. “I received a message from my friend, William Bullock, informing me the exhibits have been quite popular since the opening of his Egyptian Hall.”