“You look to be a little lost,” he said, turning to look out at the rest of the crowd along with her. “Do I need to introduce you to anyone here? I would be glad to do so, if it would be of help?”
Her smile, this time, was genuine. “That is very kind of you, but I was merely taking a breath,” she said quietly. “Ah, look, here is Lady Bentham, all tired out from dancing.” She laughed as her friend caught her hand, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling like diamonds. “I will be all right.”
The host bowed and excused himself, leaving Catherine feeling a good deal happier than she had only some moments before. She turned to her friend. “You enjoyed the dancing, then?” she asked teasingly. “Or do you require a few more dances with your husband before you are entirely worn out?”
Lady Bentham laughed and shook her head. “I am exhausted already,” she said, looping her arm through Catherine’s. “Now, shall we go and find somewhere to sit so I might rest my legs for a few moments? Lord Bentham has gone in search of some champagne or the like, and I am sure he will bring something back for you also.” Her smile faded as she saw Catherine’s flickering frown. “Is something the matter?”
Catherine, who had looked over her shoulder to see Lord Rutherford step into the room without any company on his arm, tried to force her frown to lift. She did not need to think of him any longer, not when the matter with Miss Cordner had been resolved. “Nay, I am just being foolish,” she told Lady Bentham, who smiled gently. “I need not worry about the other ladies in Lord Rutherford’s company. They have minds of their own and if they wish to get into difficulty, then the responsibly is not mine, but theirs.”
“Precisely,” Lady Bentham agreed, a firm look on her face. “Now, do come along, else I shall collapse to the floor and you shall have to drag me to a chair.”
Laughing, Catherine set all thought of Lord Rutherford to the back of her mind and decided that she would not even allow a single thought of him to enter her head. Instead, she sat down beside Lady Bentham and began to ask about the lady’s honeymoon, wanting very much to know where her friend had been and what she had visited. Soon enough, Catherine had almost forgotten that Lord Rutherford was even present at the ball and she spent the rest of the evening very happily indeed—even if she could not quite remove the questions from her mind about the mysterious gentleman who had spoken to her from the shadows.
2
It had been a very satisfactory evening, Stephen, the Earl of Rutherford, had to admit. He sat in White’s smiling to himself, going over what had been his achievement of last night. For the last few weeks, he had spent his time cultivating two particular acquaintances—one unmarried and one betrothed—with the hope of gaining a little more intimacy with the two separate ladies. It had been, at times, rather difficult to ensure that each of them felt just as pursued as the other, but that had been part of the challenge and it had been a challenge he had greatly enjoyed.
He grinned, his gaze meandering across the room as he thought about just how warm Miss Hyde’s affections had been last evening, even though he had only been able to steal a kiss before he had been forced to quit the room for fear of being discovered. The last thing he wanted or needed was to be forced into an engagement with a lady he did not know nor want to marry. Whilst the young ladies captured his attention for a time, they certainly would not make for a wife.
It had been just as well that Lady Serena had been in the music room and had not seen him pulling Miss Hyde into the shadows, else all might have been brought to a crashing end.
“Did you hear the news?”
Stephen was jerked back to the present by the sound of his friend’s voice, his whisky slopping to one side of his glass. “Lord Nottingham,” he muttered, looking at the gentleman without any particular interest and feeling a little irritated that he had broken through his reverie and made his whisky drop from the glass. “Is there something the matter?”
The Earl of Nottingham sat down quickly, his eyes bright. “You were present last evening,” he said, sounding as though he were asking a question rather than stating a fact. “Did you hear about Miss Cordner?”
“No, I did not hear any news of particular note,” Stephen sighed, snapping his fingers at a footman in order to have his whisky replaced as he lounged in his chair. Up until a few moments ago, he had been contented sitting in White’s, merely watching the other gentlemen laugh and converse without having any real need to talk or discuss matters with anyone. Lord Nottingham had either not noticed this or had not cared, eager to speak to him about whatever supposedly important news he now had to impart.
“She was not there last evening, of course, but I discovered from Lady Hazelton that Miss Cordner is betrothed.”
Stephen, who had been expecting something a little more important, let out a long and heavy sigh, rolling his eyes and slumping a little more into his chair.
“You cannot tell me that such news does not interest you!” Lord Nottingham exclaimed, throwing his hands up and practically falling into a chair opposite Stephen. “She was the lady you sought. The lady you wished to—”
“She was nothing more than a flickering interest,” Stephen interrupted firmly, waving a hand to silence Lord Nottingham. “I will not pretend that I was a trifle frustrated that my interest in the lady was rather forcefully subdued but surely you know that I had never any intention of courting her.” He forced a laugh and saw Lord Nottingham roll his eyes, his jaw set. Stephen did not even think to apologize or to wonder why his friend appeared so frustrated, finding Lord Nottingham to be rather ridiculous. “Surely you know me by now?”
Lord Nottingham looked away. “I do,” he admitted, a thick line between his brows as he frowned, “but I thought that your continual mention of Miss Cordner meant that she had been of some interest to you.”
Stephen considered this, then shook his head. “I cannot agree with you there,” he said with a shrug. “I was frustrated and irritated by Lady Catherine’s interruption and insistence that I let Lady Cordner return to her companion—as though I was forcing her hand in some way—but I did not have any feelings toward Miss Cordner herself.” He grinned, his eyes half closed as he thought of his last conquest, fully aware that his interest in the lady would disperse soon enough now that he had achieved what he had long desired. All that mattered to him was his pursuit and his victory. In addition, he had found himself rather delighted with the looks he had sent toward Lady Catherine, who had been blatantly looking at him without any hesitation, watching his flirtations with a sharp eye. He had not cared that she had done so but rather tried to embarrass her without even saying a word to her. From her reaction, he was quite certain he had succeeded.
Rising from his chair, his smile still upon his lips, he gestured toward his friend. “Another drink?”
“My first,” Lord Nottingham muttered, clearly still a little frustrated that Stephen had not taken more interest in the gossip he had thought to be of such interest. “And yes. A brandy. A large one.”
Stephen chuckled to himself and moved to fetch both drinks, accidentally knocking into another gentleman as he went. “My apologies,” he laughed, as the other gentleman looked at him sharply. His smile faded away as he took in the gentleman’s dark eyes, the thinness of his mouth, and the sharp, angular features that made him appear a little more frightening.