The Waltzing Widow (13 page)

The earl saw that she had completely misunderstood. “I have no ulterior motive, my lady, except that I have wished for a great while to have the pleasure of squiring you about the floor,” he said quietly.

Lady Mary considered him. There was no shifting in his steady blue gaze, nor had there been an evasive note in his voice. Yet she could not but wonder what connection dancing with her had with paying court to her daughter, unless his lordship wished to turn her up sweet on behalf of his future bid for Abigail's hand. If that were the case, he had gone to great lengths for nothing, because she already thought favorably of him as a gentleman.

An insidious part of her mind wanted to know whether she could really accept him as her son-in-law when she was herself so attracted to him, but she ignored the question. She really could not in all conscience stand in the way of Abigail's future happiness, even if it might include this particular gentleman. Therefore she smiled as warmly as she was capable of and said, “Then I am flattered indeed, my lord."

Lord Kenmare was relieved. For a moment he had wondered whether he had permanently offended her by his successful tactics in getting her out of the matrons’ starchy circle and into the limelight, where she undoubtedly belonged. He knew that he and Lady Mary made a graceful couple and that the fact had not gone unnoticed. The corner of his mouth quirked in its characteristic way. He guided his partner into a particularly exuberant turn so that the skirt of her satin gown billowed. Lady Mary did not yet quite realize the change in her social status, he thought, and he had every intention of making certain that the change was permanent.

The sight of Lady Mary being twirled about the floor, first in the Duke of Wellington's arms and then those of the Earl of Kenmare, had created a stir of the first order. It had become accepted for weeks past that Lady Mary did not dance. She had steadfastly refused all solicitations for her hand, seemingly preferring instead to sit on the sidelines with the other matrons and dowagers and letting her daughter shine.

Several gentlemen had considered her sense of duty to be a pity, as she was an attractive woman and said to be quite wealthy in her own right. It was common knowledge that Miss Spence would go to her marriage with a very healthy endowment, and that, along with her vivacious charm, had long since set the caveat to Abigail's success. Abigail had attracted gentlemen close to her own age, but also those who might otherwise have seemed father-like to her if it were not for their effusive admiration.

It was to these older gentlemen that this development concerning Lady Mary Spence was of decided interest. A pretty and well-endowed girl was certainly to be considered when one's pockets were to let; but a wealthy widow, for whom that same endowment sprang, was thrice more intriguing. Even the Comte l'Buc, who had been given such short shrift at Lady Mary's hands not long since, stroked his mustache with a thoughtful fingertip as he contemplated the waltzing widow. He could allow himself to forget his smarting pride over that incident; indeed, what was it but an example of a mother's natural attempt to shield her inexperienced daughter from the jaded gentlemen of the world?
Non,
he could quite forgive Lady Mary that, he thought, promptly allowing himself to forget Miss Abigail Spence's existence as he watched the graceful progress of the girl's mother. He would call upon Lady Mary in the not-too-distant future, he decided.

Lady Cecily was delighted by the sight of her brother and Lady Mary waltzing. “I do believe he has been bitten at last, Reginald,” she said.

Major Wilson-Jones knew to what she was referring. His eyes, too, followed the elegant couple. “I wouldn't be so certain, Cecy. His lordship is wholly up to the mark. Why, he would be a dunce if he were not, after all the stunts you have pulled with him these last few years."

Lady Cecily tossed her head and laughed, quite incapable of taking offense. “But do you not see, Reginald? It was not at all my doing that Robert has pursued Lady Mary. Indeed, I had no notion of his intention of persuading her to dance until they were already on the floor."

Major Wilson-Jones glanced down at his wife, much struck. “I say, that is rather significant."

"Quite significant,” Lady Cecily said, nodding. She tapped his arm."And don't you go teasing Robert about it or you shall have me to answer to,” she warned.

Major Wilson-Jones covered her fingers where they lay on his arm. “Do not fret, my dear. I have a keen sense of self-preservation. One thing I have learned is not to interfere in another man's romances.'’ He slanted a glance down at her.

Lady Cecily opened wide her brown eyes in her most guileless expression. “Oh, certainly, I quite agree with you in a general way. One should never tamper in the lives of one's acquaintances."

Her husband laughed and shook his head, knowing full well that the earl was considered fair game by his own loving sister.

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The ball at the Duke of Wellington's marked the beginning of Lady Mary's ascendancy in the social realm. She found that Lord Kenmare had been correct. It became something of a coup for a gentleman to be able to claim that he had danced with the retiring Lady Mary Spence, and so she was courted almost as assiduously as her daughter. She was not allowed to remain quietly on the sidelines in the matrons’ circle.

Abigail was delighted. “I think it marvelous, Mama! You have not enjoyed such admiration in years, and now ... why, you may have your pick of the gentlemen.” She giggled suddenly and her eyes held a teasing light. “Perhaps we shall have a double wedding in June.
That
would be amusing, would it not?"

"What a strange notion of fun you have, Abigail. I promise you, if there is to be a June wedding, you shall have the limelight completely to yourself,” Lady Mary said, calmly embroidering.

"For myself, I am quite content that Mama does not remarry just yet,” said William, who had come to call upon them that afternoon. He was standing with his shoulder against the mantel, his boot resting on the grate.

Lady Mary dropped her hoop into her lap. “Pray, do I have any say in this matter?” she asked. Neither of her progeny appeared to have heard her laughing protest.

"William! How can you be so mean? Mama should not carry the willow over Papa for the remainder of her life. Oh, she loved him to distraction and beyond, of course, but only think how lonely she will be when I have married,” Abigail said.

"I should think she would enjoy a little peace,'’ William said, grinning at his sister. She threw a sofa pillow at him, which he easily ducked. It struck a fine porcelain figure on the mantel and he hastily grabbed it to safety. Cradling the valuable piece in his hands, he said, “I don't mean to say that Mama should never wed again. But I have yet to take a liking to any of these new admirers of hers."

"I do see what you mean,” Abigail said, much struck. “Grandmama will have it that Mama should have the wealthiest of them, but I really cannot imagine our pretty Mama married to that decrepit old man that Grandmama introduced to her last night at the dinner soiree. Why, he doesn't even own his own teeth, and he hawks in the most disgusting manner just when one is trying to enjoy one's supper. Of course, I instantly told Grandmama that she was quite off the mark."

"Thank you, Abigail. I am glad that you are looking out for my interests,” Lady Mary said, once more plying her needle.

"I don't know that it is so much to your interest, but more mine. I simply could not bear to face that gentleman across the table until I marry,” Abigail said with devastating frankness. Lady Mary and William laughed at her. She looked at them, wondering at their boisterous amusement. “Well, I couldn't,'’ she said candidly.

The door to the drawing room opened and the butler entered to give Lady Mary a card sent up by a visitor. She looked at it and exclaimed, “Why, I do not believe it! Whatever does he mean by coming here!” There was a rise of color in her cheeks that had nothing to do with pleasure.

William and Abigail exchanged a swift startled glance. “Whoever is it. Mama?” Abigail asked.

Lady Mary glanced briefly at her daughter. She tapped the card into her palm. “The Comte l'Buc,” she said shortly.

Abigail squeaked, her eyes growing wide. “I promise you, Mama, after you related to me what you knew about that man, I never encouraged him again by even a glance! Grandmama was vastly disappointed when I informed her, of course, and I did so hate to disappoint her, so I agreed to go in to dinner with her next choice. Why is it that so many of the most eligible gentlemen are so
old!"

William had straightened from his negligent pose. He had not paid the least attention to his sister's spate of words. “Shall I deal with the impertinent fellow for you, Mama?” There was a martial light in his eyes and his expression was one of anticipation.

"That will not be necessary, William,” Lady Mary said quietly. She nodded to the waiting butler, who bowed and exited, shortly to return with the unwelcome visitor.

The Comte l'Buc entered. He was a gentleman of average height, beginning to lean to corpulence, and affected completely black attire. It was his fond opinion that his favorite color enhanced his black eyes and the luxuriousness of his sweeping mustache. He paused, striking a pose as he raised his glass to his eye. He surveyed the ladies appreciatively, but he regarded the young officer with less approbation. The fellows in their smart uniforms were to be found everywhere and had proved to be harsh competition, indeed, to a middle-aged libertine such as himself.

The
comte
dropped his glass and approached the lady of the house. He held out his gloved hands in effusive greeting. “Ah, Lady Mary. What fine looks you appear in this afternoon. The little cap attaches a certain cachet, certainly."

William made a whooping noise and turned aside his head as though fascinated by the flames in the hearth.

The Comte l'Buc frowned, displeased by the younger man's rude manners. But almost instantly his expression smoothed. He had come to make himself agreeable to Lady Mary, so he turned his shoulder on the officer and thereafter ignored him. “My dear lady, how gracious you are to receive me,'’ he said, attempting to capture both her hands.

Lady Mary evaded him, giving him the satisfaction of pressing only one of her hands. “Comte l'Buc, I must confess to some puzzlement at your visit. Our last meeting was not precisely cordial."

The
comte
displayed large white teeth, which appeared in fine contrast to his black mustache. With an airy gesture he dismissed such a trifle. He seated himself, preferring to overlook the fact that he had not been offered a chair upon his arrival. “It was an unfortunate misunderstanding, certainly, but nothing that should stand in the way of friendship. “I disregard the matter entirely,” he said, making plain that her lapse from good manners had been quite forgiven.

Lady Mary regarded the gentleman with slightly raised brows. Her gray eyes held a curiously cool expression, one that the
comte
found somewhat disconcerting after his magnanimousness. “Indeed, sir? It is my profound hope that you do not disregard my wishes."

The Comte l'Buc stared at her ladyship, appalled. He had managed to anger her, which was the furthest thing from his intention. He brushed his fingertip across his mustache. Perhaps his approach needed a slight modification. He insinuated a note of sincerity into his oily voice. “Lady Mary, I would not willingly disregard any wish of yours. As regards this dear child, I assure you that I harbor naught but the most paternal feelings,'’ he said with the slightest of bows in Abigail's direction. She was staring at him with an openmouthed wonder that he found faintly irritating. He returned the gaze to his somewhat unfriendly hostess. “Once more misunderstanding has come between us, my lady. I shall endeavor in future to make of myself an open book to your eyes.” He smiled slowly, putting all of his charm into it.

There was a short silence. Lady Mary's expression was one of startled bemusement. The
comte
was not displeased by her reaction. His ego was such that he accepted Lady Mary's speechlessness as natural to a lady who has finally been awakened to her desirability by one of his discriminating taste. He was a past master of timing, and so he immediately rose to take his leave, bowing extravagantly to both Lady Mary and Abigail and vouchsafing to the young officer the scarcest of nods.

The drawing-room door closed behind him. William fell into a chair, whooping with laughter. Abigail was shaking her head in astonishment. She said in an affronted tone, “I would not have believed if it I had not been present. Paternal feelings indeed, when it was not above a week ago that he was pressing me to go into the gardens with him! Mama, that man has thrown me over for you!"

William found his voice, his eyes still streaming. “Mama, you should have seen your face when he looked at you just
so.
I was never more entertained in my life!"

"I am glad that I am such a figure of fun for you, William.''

William was instantly contrite. “Oh, no. Mama.
You
are not, I assure you. But that pompous little man—believing that he has only to level his sights for you to swoon at his condescension—why, it is truly laughable!"

"I agree, and I cannot imagine what odd notion the gentleman has taken into his head,” Lady Mary said. “It is not as though I have ever bestowed more than a civil nod upon him when we have chanced to meet."

"There you are, Mama. You have encouraged the
comte
shamefully,” William said, guffawing again.

"William! How can you be so mean?” Abigail asked unsteadily. She was biting her lip against her own laughter, but at her mother's reproachful glance at both her and her brother, she burst into giggles.

"My, but it is a merry party indeed."

The Spences turned quickly, surprised by the voice. The viscount and viscountess stood in the doorway. Viscountess Catlin swept forward to kiss Abigail and William. “You are looking so well, my darlings. William, I demand that you come to call on me. I have told everyone at the hotel what a fine young grandson I have, and never once has anyone seen for himself,” she said.