She would have gladly let her gaze linger on his face, but her interest kept venturing downward, drawn by the sight of his athletic body dressed in an impeccably tailored white waistcoat, and double-breasted ink-blue coat, both of which highlighted the width of his shoulders and narrowness of his waist. His long, leanly muscled legs were encased in buff breeches, which were tucked into lustrous Hessian boots.
“That man is your friend?” Grace’s mother whispered. “I had no idea he was a such a splendid Corinthian.”
“Neither did I,” Grace whispered back.
Seb was certain he was going to pass out. Scores of eyes were all looking at him, assessing him, judging him. The urge to flee coursed through him, but he was too busy being light-headed and slick with sweat to move. If only he could be somewhere, anywhere, so long as it wasn’t here and he could hide himself and be safe.
His hand drifted to his pocket, and unconsciously he reached for the gloves Grace had given him. The smooth leather was cool at first, but warmed beneath his touch. And as he ran his fingers over the glove, the whirling in his head began to subside. His breathing calmed.
A breath in, a breath out. Slow and steady.
“Welcome, welcome,” a man’s voice called jauntily. “Your Grace, an honor.”
Rotherby murmured, “Lord Creasy, Lady Creasy.” He inclined his head slightly. “May I introduce my friend, Mr. Sebastian Holloway.”
When the elegantly dressed middle-aged couple turned their attention to Seb, it took him half a second to remember he was supposed to bow.
Bless the stars that Seb had practiced bowing over and over, because his body knew how to effortlessly execute the move without Seb having to think about the mechanics.
Wasn’t he supposed to say something? Yes—he’d rehearsed what to say on the way over in Rotherby’s carriage. “My sincerest gratitude for receiving me in your delightful home.” He ought to speak more, shouldn’t he? Oh, right. Ask questions. To Lady Creasy, he inquired, “Is this charming garden your own design?”
The lady pursed her lips in pleasure. “I worked with a very talented horticulturist, but much of the concept came from me.”
“I can tell,” Seb said without thinking. “Remarkable originality. Some truly unexpected touches that delight the eye.” Good God, where had that come from? Seb didn’t know his way around a compliment if he’d been presented with a compendium of them. And yet, some part of him knew what to say.
Lady Creasy giggled. Giggled. And fanned herself.
Seb shot a look at Lord Creasy, worried that his host would be angered by his wife flirting with a stranger. Astonishingly, Lord Creasy beamed as if he’d earned himself a spectacular favor.
“Come,” Lord Creasy said with hearty bonhomie, “let us introduce you to our other guests.”
As Seb and Rotherby followed their hosts down the stairs, into the garden, Rotherby spoke under his breath. “Slight stumble at first, but first-rate recovery. Keep it up.”
Given that Rotherby could be parsimonious with compliments, Seb couldn’t ask for a stronger endorsement. He might truly be able to do this. Might.
Lord and Lady Creasy looked especially proud of themselves as they introduced Rotherby and Seb to their guests. Seb continued to hold on to the gloves, using them like a talisman that adhered him into his physical body rather than spin endlessly in his mind. Yet he needed something, an idea or image to keep in his thoughts that took him to a place where he felt happy and comfortable and perfectly at ease.
The reading tables at the Benezra was one of his favorite places in all the world. He pictured books spread before him, could smell the paper and leather, with all the time he desired to simply read. And . . . in this fantasy of the library . . . Grace sat opposite him, smiling as she wrote something in a notebook.
He felt his lips curve into a small smile, one of private pleasure meant just for him and Grace.
To his astonished pleasure, the guests he met seemed to think his smile was for them, and they returned it as though they and Seb were the only ones in on a secret jest. Incredible, but the elegant, powerful people he encountered were eager to find a reason to ingratiate themselves with him.