Tangled Reins (Regencies 1)

Risking a glance up at him, Dorothea found his hazel eyes glinting, and as he smiled at her she felt that the rest of the room could disappear for all she cared. Smiling back, she said, ‘I must thank you for your gift, Lord Hazelmere.’

‘Ah, yes. I hoped it would act as a token of pleasant memories,’ he replied, raising a long finger to touch the pendant and only just resisting the temptation to caress the skin on which it lay.

She had expected some outrageous remark. ‘Yes, I always found Moreton Park woods particularly restful.’ Her serenity was so complete that, if he hadn’t known better, he could have thought she had forgotten her first meeting with him entirely.

Laughingly acknowledging the adept return, he took her breath away by murmuring provocatively, ‘You have grown so very expert at fencing with me, my dear, that I fear I’ll have to resort to…more direct methods.’

The emerald eyes flew to his, but just what she would have said in response they never knew, for at that moment Marjorie Darent approached them.

While the rest of the company had the good manners not to interrupt the conversation between Miss Darent and Lord Hazelmere, Lady Darent felt no such restriction. Seeing Dorothea being monopolised by a man she considered one step removed from a rake, she saw her duty clearly. Recently arrived, she had not yet spoken to Dorothea and, being short-sighted, it was not until she was within a few feet that the full effect of Dorothea’s gown struck her.

Favouring the Marquis with what she believed was a gracious smile, she spoke to Dorothea immediately. ‘My dear! Don’t you think a shawl would be more becoming over that gown?’

Hazelmere felt Dorothea stiffen and almost imperceptibly they drew closer together. ‘I think not, Cousin,’ replied Dorothea, holding her temper with a superhuman effort. ‘I’m hardly cold. And besides,’ she continued hurriedly, seeing that her cousin had missed the very large hint and was about to explain herself more fully, ‘I would hardly embarrass Grandmama by adopting so provincial a style of dress.’

Lady Darent stiffened.

Only just preventing himself from applauding, Hazelmere intervened. ‘Miss Darent, I believe my mother is trying to attract our attention. If Lady Darent will excuse us?’ With a nod to that outraged lady, he firmly removed Dorothea from her orbit.

As they moved away he glanced down at the beauty by his side. ‘Good girl! If you hadn’t said that I’m afraid I had something much worse in mind. Remind me that, despite the other…skills I’ve yet to teach you, I don’t need to teach you how to insult someone.’

A gurgle of laughter, quickly suppressed, greeted this sally, and Dorothea turned her sparkling eyes to his face. The Marquis’s mother, towards whom they were headed, viewed this exchange with a peculiar smile. She had never thought to see her son so obviously in love.

The conversation continued to hum and the heat in the drawing-room rose, until Mellow, resplendent in new long-tailed coat, announced dinner. Hazelmere, as the most senior of the peers present, would normally have led in Lady Merion, but Herbert Darent found that he was to perform this office, leaving the Marquis to attend Miss Darent. Cecily was squired by Lord Fanshawe, and the others obligingly took care of themselves.

The dinner was a resounding success and not a single incident occurred to mar Lady Merion’s pleasure. Conversation flowed on all sides, even Marjorie finding in the half-deaf admiral by her side someone with whom she shared some common ground. As all had expected, Hazelmere and Dorothea seemed oblivious to all others, as were Cecily and Fanshawe opposite. Due to Lady Merion’s strategic planning, no one was the least put out by this, except Lord and Lady Darent. Luckily those disapproving figures were too far removed to exert any dampening influence on the sparkling scene in the middle of the table.

With the removal of the last course, the ladies rose and departed for the drawing-room, leaving the gentlemen to their port. At a dinner preceding a ball the ritual separation was usually kept to a minimum. But Lady Merion was taking no chances. She had enlisted the aid of the Earl of Eglemont to ensure that Herbert did not prose on in his accustomed way and drive everyone else to distraction.

For this service Lord Eglemont was an inspired choice. He knew that none of the younger gentlemen present would have the least inclination to remain kicking his heels over the port. And who could blame them? In his view, a dinner and ball was the time for some fun, and even he would rather be back in the drawing-room, watching what devilment Marc and Tony, and even Lord Harcourt and Ferdie, could concoct, than listening to that pompous windbag Herbert Darent.

Herbert, therefore, found the discussion he instituted on the latest ideas of rotation farming taken out of his hands and wound up by Lord Eglemont, who then further usurped his role and led the gentlemen back to the drawing-room.

Lady Merion heaved a sigh of relief when she saw them return. The room was pleasantly a-hum with conversation generated by the groups of young and old scattered through it. Lords Hazelmere and Fanshawe, re-entering the room to find the Misses Darent chatting avidly with groups of friends, wisely made no attempt to disengage them, but made themselves as inconspicuous as possible.

Hazelmere strolled over to his mother. ‘Ah, Mama! I’d meant to ask earlier. Do you know if my esteemed elder sisters will be gracing the ball tonight?’

Lady Hazelmere’s strait-laced elder daughters were every bit as great a burden to her as they were to her son. ‘I fervently hope not, my dear!’ She turned and, leaning across Sally Jersey, addressed Lady Merion. ‘Hermione, you didn’t invite Maria and Susan, did you?’

To both mother and son’s dismay, Lady Merion nodded. ‘Yes. And both accepted.’

Lady Hazelmere turned back to her son, pulling a face.

He bent to whisper in her ear. ‘In that case, it would be wise if you dropped a word of warning in my loving sisters’ ears, regarding the wisdom of giving myself and Miss Darent a suitably wide berth tonight.’

Lady Hazelmere looked at him in surprise. He smiled down at her in his usual maddening way before moving off into the room. She spent some minutes trying to solve the riddle, finally deciding that he must mean to do something that would incense her elder daughters. What it could be she had no idea but, as she turned to Sally Jersey sitting beside her, she found she was not alone in suspecting her son of being up to something.

‘Anthea, what on earth is that boy of yours up to? He and Tony Fanshawe are behaving very coolly.’

‘I’ve really no idea, Sally. You should know mothers are always the last to be told anything. But I must say,’ she went on, ‘I do think you’re right. They’re certainly planning something.’

As the time for the ball approached Lady Merion moved her dinner guests up to the ballroom. The florists and decorators had excelled themselves, but the exclamations and congratulations of the ladies were soon drowned by the arrival of the ball guests. The chatter and talk as acquaintances met swept like a wave across the room as all the ton rolled up to Lady Merion’s ball.

Dorothea and Cecily were stationed at the head of the stairs with their grandmother to receive the guests. For the next half-hour they were completely absorbed in greeting and being presented to the ton at large. As the surge of arrivals started to ease and then reduced to a trickle the ballroom was close to overflowing, and all the glittering throng of the élite of London society were present. The room looked magnificent, and Lady Merion felt she had achieved the very pinnacle of success. Catching Mellow’s eye, she gave the signal to start the ball. As he moved majestically down the room the guests parted to clear an area for the first waltz.

Traditionally the first section of the first waltz was danced only by the young lady in whose honour the ball was held. Tonight Dorothea would go first down the room, followed by Cecily, before the rest of the guests joined in. If strictest protocol was followed Dorothea would be partnered by Herbert and Cecily by Lord Wigmore, Lady Merion’s cousin. However, when approached by her ladyship, Lord Wigmore had readily relinquished this task, chuckling when he heard who was to take his place. Herbert was simply informed that, as he did not waltz, a suitable replacement had been found. He was put out but did not have the gumption to cause a fuss. His grandmother wisely refrained from telling him who was to lead his ward out.

She had also, under orders, not told her granddaughters who their partners were for this all-important first dance. This had placed no strain on her inventiveness, as neither girl had thought to ask, both imagining that Herbert and Lord Wigmore were inescapable fixtures. So, with inward trepidation, Lady Merion, standing between the two girls at the top of the shallow steps leading down to her ballroom and, seeing the musicians preparing to strike the first chords, said, ‘Off you go, my loves! Your partners are arranged and will meet you at the bottom of the steps. And my very best wishes for a most wonderful ball for you both!’