“Pretty girl,” Countess Lieven said behind her fan to Sally Jersey as Teresa and Wilfred drifted away. “She has nice manners. She dresses nicely too.”
Sally Jersey gave her a superior smile, a malicious smile, truth be told. “Perhaps Miss Teresa Elliott’s perfect manners will fall off a cliff when she meets the newest addition to the young misses making their coming-out this year. Indeed,” she added thoughtfully, “it would appear that Sabrina Eversleigh has already made a notable conquest. Phillip Mercerault asked my permission to lead her in a waltz.”
Mrs. Drummond Burrell, who had given no impression of even having attended to the ladies’ conversation, turned her cold eyes to Lady Jersey and said, “It would appear to me that the viscount will shortly find himself caught between two ladies. The man has great charm. It will prove interesting to see how well he manages to extricate himself from this encounter.”
Teresa dragged Wilfred toward the viscount, pausing to give only cursory greeting to a young gentleman who seemed more than willing to take Wilfred’s place at her side.
She was within five feet of her goal when the viscount turned away to speak to a small, red-haired girl who was standing next to Lady Barresford. In the next moment he was leading her to the dance floor. Teresa stopped dead in her
tracks. “How dare he do this to me? He must have seen me, I know that he did. Who is that miserable girl he’s with? Oh, he will hear about this.”
Wilfred, who’d expected to be bored silly, changed his mind in that instant. He looked at his sister’s furious face, and drawled in a voice designed to make her explode into flame, “It looks to me like that little beauty has taken your viscount. Right from under your nose. Isn’t she a lovely girl? Beautiful hair, titian, I’d call it. Looks innocent and sweet. Somehow I don’t think that’s your future husband, sister. I wonder if she’d dance with me. Do you think she might?”
“Shut up or I’ll tell Mama. I know what it is. He’s being polite, nothing more. Come, Will, I must pay my respects to Lady Barresford.”
At that moment Lady Barresford lowered her turbaned head to hear something Lucilla Morton was saying. It would be unforgivable to break in. Teresa cursed under her breath.
She looked toward Phillip and the girl he was waltzing with, and saw him throw back his head and laugh at something the skinny twit said. Without warning, she grabbed Wilfred’s arm.
“You’re going to dance with me, Will. Don’t complain and don’t you dare step on my toes. These slippers are new and very white.”
Phillip whirled Sabrina in a wide circle toward the periphery of the dance floor. She was breathless and laughing. “So what do you think of Almack’s?” he asked, smiling down at her.
She smiled back. “This is wonderful. I love the waltz and you are so very good at it, better than the dancing master. He kept counting out loud and his hands were sweaty. Do you come here often, Phillip?”
“Rarely. Usually it’s a bore.”
“I hope you haven’t put yourself out on my account.”
“Oh no. Haven’t you been told that I’m a thoroughly selfish creature? That I never put myself out on anyone’s account? It’s true, most of the time. I normally do exactly as I wish.” Except where you are concerned, Sabrina, he finished silently to himself. She appeared to have forgotten their rather dazzling fight of the night before. He wondered if she was coming to her senses. No, little chance of that. There was no reason at all for her to change her view of society.
“You’re breathing hard, Sabrina. Let’s rest here a moment. I don’t want you to overdo.”
“I wouldn’t want to bore you, my lord.”
“I’ll tell you if I feel a bout of boredom overcoming me.”
Her violet eyes widened at his gentle thrust, which was, in truth, a mild jest. Let her growl, he thought, just once let her growl at him.
He smiled down at her and stoked the flames. “That’s right, Sabrina. A little temper can’t hurt. Richard spoke of your being as vivid as life itself. I wouldn’t argue if you decided to impress me in the same way.”
Before she could answer, the band began another waltz. He tightened his hand about her waist and whirled her about the perimeter of the dancing floor, in wide, dipping circles. She was panting breathlessly and laughing. The room was warm, the candlelight twinkled like a thousand prisms, and she could hear laughter all around her. She felt wonderful. Phillip drew her just a bit closer and slowed down.
“Please don’t stop, Phillip. I love the way you whirl me around.” He thought that if he released her, she’d hug herself in joy, that or simply keep waltzing by herself. He was charmed.
“You were wrong, you know. Just look around you. Everyone is happy and dancing and laughing. Almack’s isn’t a bore. And everyone is being so kind. My aunt even told me that the last person Mrs. Drummond Burrell smiled at was a hussar in uniform at the turn of the century. She smiled at me, Phillip. Well, nearly smiled. She showed her teeth, which, Aunt assured me, was well nigh a miracle.”
He just shook his head and whirled her about again in the large circles she so much loved. When he slowed again, he said, “I must agree. This is a delightful evening. You dance rather well, I might add, for a merchant’s relative.”
“All the gentlemen I’ve danced with this evening have agreed with you.” She looked up at him through her lashes. She was jesting with him. Perhaps even flirting, just a bit. He was enchanted.
“For a merchant’s relative, you also dress well. I like your aunt’s choice of the pale amber. The Italian crepe is exquisite.”
“I selected it, not my aunt. How do you know this is Italian crepe? I didn’t think any gentleman knew of such things.”
“A man who is to enjoy a certain success with ladies must be a master of many things. If you like, I can take you to a small milliner’s shop just off Bond Street. I can think of several charming bonnets that should set off your coloring to perfection.”
She didn’t know whether to be furious or to laugh, and he saw it clearly. He arched an eyebrow, saying, “Well, which will it be?”