Emily shot her a glare. “A common enough name, Tia.”
“Most of my family originates from the Midlands,” Mr. Tavers said with a touch of pride to his voice. “Viscount Middleton is my cousin.”
“That must be it, then. I am from the Midlands and have heard the name.” Tia smiled at him.
“The musicians are starting the next set. Would you care to dance?”
Tia slid a glance to Emily, who nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
She linked arms with him and allowed him to guide her to the dance floor. Nervousness slid through her—not at the idea of dancing with Mr. Tavers—but it was the idea of dancing at all that had her apprehensive. How would it look if she forgot the steps? She would embarrass Emily in front of the people she wanted as friends, though Tia wasn’t sure why Emily wanted any of these ladies as friends.
She took her place across from Mr. Tavers. He smiled at her as the country dance started. Tia concentrated on her steps while Mr. Tavers attempted to make conversation as they came together and then apart. She honestly had no idea what he was trying to say. The steps were complicated and it took all her mind to focus on that. Unable to determine his conversation over the music and concentration, she only smiled up at him and nodded occasionally.
Finally, the music ended and he escorted her back to Emily. “I shall wait impatiently for our next dance, Miss Featherstone.”
As he walked away, Emily giggled and said, “You made quite the impression. Did you really promise him a second dance?”
“I have no idea. I couldn’t hear a word he was saying.”
Emily laughed. “Oh, Tia. Just remember no more than two dances.”
“You have drummed that into my head all week.” She looked across the room and noticed a man with dark hair paused at the door. For a quick moment, the figure in mostly black reminded her of Middleton.
“Come along, Tia,” Emily said, pulling Tia out of her musing. “We should get some more refreshments.
They walked toward the dining room where the table and sideboard was lined with food. “Emily, would Middleton attend a party such as this?”
Emily gave a nervous laugh. “I highly doubt it. This party is far too tame for a man like Middleton.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Tia asked as she picked up a stuffed mushroom and added it to her plate.
“He always ran with a fast crowd.”
“What do you mean?” She ignored Emily’s look of disdain and grabbed a glass of wine from a passing footman. She sipped the wine slowly, savoring the fruity taste as it warmed its way down her belly.
“Middleton prefers the loose women and gambling hells to a sedate party like this. Besides, you must know that many people believe he had something to do with the death of the former viscount and his heir.”
“That cannot be true. I heard both deaths were accidental.”
“I’m afraid that is what the gossips are saying about him. It has damaged his reputation—not that it was sterling before the rumors.”
Tia had heard the rumors of his rakish ways from the servants at Middleton Hall, but she couldn’t imagine him committing murder to become the viscount. She must have imagined seeing him in the hall. She took another sip of wine and strolled back to the ballroom. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she slipped behind a large plant for a moment of peace.
“Did you see Miss Bingham?” a woman said to another woman on the other side of the plant.
“That gown is hideous on her,” replied another. “What was she thinking wearing pink at her age?”
“She is almost three and twenty!”
“And firmly on the shelf.”
One of the women laughed coarsely. “No man will have her now.”
“I also heard she had been seen kissing Lord Ranston in the library of Lady Somerfield’s home.”
“But Lord Ranston is a married man!”
“Exactly.”