The Bumblebroth (11 page)

He had called alone and been subjected to a painful half hour of nursery chat, with Pamela's governess, Miss Fotheringill, in attendance. But after this one success, he made sure to take Gerald along and, following a scheme of his own, advanced the notion of Gerald's riding on a daily basis with Pamela.

Since he contrived to make Gerald issue the invitation, and he himself made no attempt to join in their party, neither Mattie nor Pamela's governess raised the least objection.

William observed all this with a secret smile.

It was on a morning soon thereafter that he and Gerald called upon the ladies and interrupted them in the middle of a dancing lesson.

Barlow, a long-suffering expression upon his face, showed them into the small saloon, where the ladies were assembled. Miss Fotheringill was seated at the pianoforte, picking out the accompaniment to a country dance. An elderly Monsieur Le Gros, powdered and bewigged, the waist of his knee breeches held in by tight corseting, stood in the corner, clapping out a rhythm while Pamela and Mattie executed their steps.

William watched for a few moments in amusement as Mattie stiffly acted out the part of gentleman to Pamela's less-than-graceful lady. Then, Monsieur Le Gros perceived the intruders and, with an exclamation of delight, informed the ladies that aid had arrived.

Mattie, who, at this precise moment, was executing a low bow that showed the delightful roundness of her hips, gave a squeak. She spun around to face William, one hand flying to her lips.

Pamela reddened under Gerald's wicked grin. Miss Fotheringill stopped playing and nodded graciously to William's bow.

"But this is excellent!" Monsieur Le Gros said, nearly hopping with excitement. "If messieurs would oblige, we could now form two couples to learn the more difficult steps, n'est pas? Messieurs?"

Gerald started backing towards the door through which they had come, his agitated stammer producing stream upon stream of apologies, but William quickly cut off his retreat.

"Where do you think you're going, you young jackanapes?" While the ladies gazed on in amused silence, he held on to the back of Gerald's collar, making escape virtually impossible.

"For God's sake, Will! You don't expect me to dance, do you?" Gerald whispered fiercely. "I wouldn't know how to take the first step."

"You do not need to know how. That is the most remarkable thing about dancing lessons. The dancing master teaches you the steps."

"Aw, Will, you know what I mean. I'll make an ass of myself."

"No, you won't. Any sprig who can learn to drive and box and fence with the best of them, can learn a few paltry dance steps."

"I am sure Gerald will do excellently." Mattie came forward to intervene. "But I would hate to coerce him into anything he would find repugnant."

"Gerald finds anything of a civilized nature to be repugnant," William replied. "However, if you would not object to our intrusion, this would be a prime opportunity to slap some polish on this barbarian."

Mattie laughed and took Gerald's arm, saying in a coaxing voice, "How could I object? We have all been learning, you see, for my own skills are very rusty indeed, and they are only now coming back to me. I promise to help you as we go along."

"Thank you, Mattie," William said, handing over his captive.

He smiled at her and saw her cheeks turn rosy under his regard. Her self-conscious response raised a heat deep inside him, which made it difficult to tear his eyes away. He turned towards Pamela and offered her his arm.

Now that there were two couples, he and Pamela could square off against the other two for the country dance, letting their imaginations and the intervening beats in the music fill in for the two missing sides. As the most practiced dancer in the group, William could perform his part without thinking and could spend his time observing the others.

His own partner could not converse when all her attention was needed to govern her feet. Lady Pamela danced with her gaze fixed solidly on the floor in front of her, so that William was at leisure to peer at the other two.

He had to keep himself from laughing at the dejected air of his brother, who seemed to find dancing more difficult than all his considerable athletic pursuits put together. William would never have believed that his graceful Gerald could look so clumsy if he had not witnessed the scene himself.

Mattie, on the other hand, looked like the duchess she was in a flowing skirt that swirled when she walked, with her piquant little chin held high in the air. She danced as if the music flowed through her veins. Her happy expression as she turned and curtsied told William all he needed to know.

He had to be careful not to stare at her, so he turned his eyes back to his partner and politely kept them there until it was his and Mattie's turn to execute a step together. When they did, and took a turn about the centre of the square, his gaze found hers for one electric moment. The beat in his throat grew more rapid as she turned away in confusion. The feel of her fingertips in his— for neither wore gloves— set a current pulsing through his veins.

When that country dance was over, Monsieur Le Gros clapped his hands together.

"That was far more better, messieurs et mesdames. Messieurs, I cannot thank you enough."

"It was our pleasure," William responded. Then, before he and Gerald could be dismissed, he added, "But the ladies surely must learn more. While we are here, perhaps it would be wise to practice the basic steps of a Sir Roger de Coverley, for that cannot be danced without couples to exchange."

Monsieur Le Gros became his ally, taking him up on his offer despite Gerald's frown. The couples arranged themselves with Gerald at William's left and the ladies facing them from an imaginary line.

Miss Fotheringill found a suitable sheet of music, a lively piece written in six-eight time, so they had a vigorous accompaniment. Without any other couples to support them, the ladies switched partners back and forth, going rapidly from William to Gerald, faster and faster, until even Gerald was laughing at the absurdity of it.

When everyone was breathing heavily from exertion, and Mattie had ended up as his partner, William called a sudden halt.

"We must save some of our energy for the waltz," he said.

Mattie's eyes grew round. Cornflower blue stared back at him before she said, "You do not mean to teach us to waltz?"

"But, of course. Why not? It is danced everywhere now, except at Bath, and I know you would not wish for Pamela to appear to disadvantage." He knew he was using Pamela shamefully, but he did not intend to leave Mattie's house without feeling her once in his arms.

"Oh, no!" Mattie responded precisely as he had expected. "She must never appear to be a country bumpkin! That would not do at all!"

Her distress made William wince inwardly with guilt. He had guessed that there must have been some episode in her past to make her uncomfortable with society. Nothing he had seen had convinced him that she had a natural aversion to entertainment.

Her fascination with the theatre was so palpable that he could almost feel her disappointment at the performances she had missed. Today alone, he had watched her dance and seen how much she would enjoy a ball. Something, or someone, he decided, had done something to spoil society for Mattie.

Vowing to himself to make it up to her, he started to take her in his arms, but she pulled back in confusion.

"Oh, but I couldn't!" she protested breathlessly. "I don't know how to waltz!"

William gave her a teasing grin. "That is the most remarkable thing about dancing lessons. One doesn't need to know the steps. I am sure Monsieur Le Gros will teach them to you, but if he will not, I will."

While she was laughing in response, he took her into his arms, and they stayed in that agreeable position while Monsieur Le Gros showed Gerald how to tame Pamela.

Chapter Seven

 While they waited— in order to keep Mattie from drawing away from him— William began to show her the basic steps.

"You must keep your feet always on the floor," he said before starting his count. "The object is to glide about the floor with your partner as your guide."

"Which partner?" Mattie looked up at him shyly.

The sight of those blue eyes so close to his dulled his wits for a moment. "I beg your pardon?" William said.

"Which partner is to do the guiding? You or me?"

"Ahhhh." William nodded and smiled to himself.

Having never danced the waltz, Mattie naturally had not learned its conventions, which were unlike any other dance.

"I see the source of your confusion. The privilege of leading, however, is strictly the male's, and I am afraid that my feelings will be gravely injured if you do not follow me."

Mattie dimpled. She still looked flustered by the unaccustomed contact. The roses in her cheeks were in full bloom, and her blush extended down to her décolletage, which was unfashionably low.

William could only be grateful for the peculiar circumstances that kept her gowned as she was, rather than in the current, more modest mode. He suspected that Mattie was too soft-hearted either to demand more dresses from her aged dresser or too timid to hire a younger woman to do the work. The result of her inexperience spurred his senses. He would be sorry to have it rectified, though he knew it soon would be.

He cleared his throat and began his lesson, dropping his gaze to the floor between them. "We will be moving to the count of three. Please do not be either offended or alarmed if I push you backwards, for that is how the dance is done."

He moved slowly against her before Mattie hastened backwards to avoid brushing his limbs. She fixed her eyes to the floor, and William watched her steps until she had mastered the basic pattern. Once that was accomplished, his gaze was free to roam at will.

Golden streaks sparkled through her hair, which shone like satin. Although his mother would not have approved of Mattie's long hours in the sun, they had left only a radiant glow to her cheeks.

If he had met her in any other place, he would have been drawn to her, but William could only be thankful he had found her untouched as she was.

A sound intruded upon his thoughts, but it was a moment before he realized that Monsieur Le Gros was attempting to claim their attention. They had been so intent, she on her steps and he on her, they had not noticed.

"The music, please, Miss Fotheringill."

Gerald and Pamela had squared off like two boxers in a clench, their heads firmly directed to the floor between them. William stifled a laugh, though the sight of these two determined horsemen in a ballroom would be enough to send his mother into a spasm of nerves.

The music started, and he and Mattie waltzed about the room. She had a gift for dancing. Only her shyness kept her gaze to the floor, for he was sure the steps did not.

"It is thought a useful practice to converse with one's partner while simultaneously keeping up the steps. Shall we try it?"

She dimpled rosily again as she dared to glance upward. "I am perfectly willing, but I cannot speak for my feet. If they tread on yours, you must blame them and not me."

"Agreed. It will be infinitely worth it to see your face instead of the top of your head . . . . charming though that is," he hastened to assure her.

"Lord Westbury— " Mattie chuckled and shook her head— "I am sure you are what Gerald would call 'a most complete hand.' With you as my partner, I shall learn everything, right down to the ballroom flattery."

"You wound me, Duchess. There is no need for flattery in present company. My compliment was sincere, but if Gerald has been saying anything behind my back to ruin my reputation, I shall have to speak to him firmly."

"Gerald would be far too well-mannered to do anything of the kind, and besides, he seems to be sincerely attached to you."

William felt a warm smile stealing across his features. "And I to him, in spite of his social shortcomings."

They both glanced Gerald's way at that moment and discovered the younger couple bounding about the room. Monsieur Le Gros was holding his hands to his head in despair.

"Gerald," William called, bringing his own steps to a halt, "this is a glide, not a Fandango."

"What's the difference?" Gerald shrugged and glanced backwards, nearly careening into a chair.

Mattie suppressed a giggle, and William winced visibly for her benefit. "I might have known you would say something to put me to the blush."

"That's poppycock." Gerald kept right on with his bounding, and Lady Pamela laughed riotously as they twirled about the room. "Lady Pam and I are happy enough, and that's what counts."

"Well said, sprigling." William caught Mattie's eye and smiled at her understanding look. "At least he knows that pleasing one's partner is of the greatest importance."

A hint of sadness flickered in her eyes, which confused, then dismayed him. "You are kind to think that way," she said.

William felt the muscles in his jaw twitch. He could not respond as he would have liked in front of everyone else, so instead he swept her into his arms and said, "Let's give Gerald's method a try, shall we?"

Without waiting for Mattie's reply, he spun her in a wide circle until she was laughing, her head thrown back in delight. Monsieur Le Gros clapped his hands in reprimand, and the prevailing atmosphere in the small saloon matched the utter chaos in William's heart.

* * * *

When the lesson was over, and the gentlemen long departed, Mattie wandered about the small saloon in a deep reverie. She hummed the tune of the waltz, and every now and then executed a whirl to the beat.

Soon, Gilly joined her and saw her waltzing by herself. She paused at the door and a frown began to weigh her brow.

"Are you alone, Your Grace?"

Mattie spun and gave a startled laugh. "Oh, yes," she stammered. "I must appear quite ridiculous, which makes it good it was you who discovered me and not Barlow. I should never keep his respect if he caught me out in such a foolish posture."

Gilly smiled, but her brow remained furrowed. "You enjoyed the dancing?"