“I don’t see what it matters,” David had grumbled in the coach on the way to the party, as Marianne had been explaining it all to him. “You’re going to be Lady Angelina’s daughter-in-law soon and Lady Annabelle’s sister-in-law. That’s why we all came to the party together last night.”
“Yes,” Marianne had replied, “and that would have been a perfectly lovely explanation, if you hadn’t cut in on Annabelle’s dance last night.”
“I thought it was all the rage,” David pointed out.
“So did I,” Marianne replied with a sigh, “but when Lady Angelina paid me a call this morning, she explained that it still might be cause for gossip. You must remember they do things quite differently here than we’re used to.”
“I remember,” David groaned. “Wait. Lady Angelina paid you a call? This morning?”
“Yes, why?”
“No reason other than she was supposed to be at my dinner table lesson this morning.” He shook his head, dismissing the thought. David plucked two flutes of champagne from the serving tray of a passing footman while continuing to search the crowd for Annabelle and her mother.
“I don’t see them,” Marianne said after a few more moments of searching herself. “But I do see Lady Elspeth. She’s coming this way.” Marianne gave David a conspiratorial grin from behind her flute.
David barely had a chance to turn to look before Lady Elspeth and her mother were upon them. “There you are, Lord Elmwood,” Lord Elspeth said. “Good to see you again this evening.”
“The pleasure is mine,” David replied, bowing. He couldn’t help but wonder if Annabelle would be proud of him for remembering to bow. In Brighton men nodded to ladies and treated them cordially, of course, but bowing and curtsying was a more formal London requirement.
There were several moments of excruciating small talk while Marianne asked after both Lady Elspeth and her mother’s health, their enjoyment of the ball so far, and some mention of the weather before Marianne not-so-subtly elbowed David in the ribs, a clear indicator that he was expected to join the conversation.
“Yes, my lady. I, too, find it unseasonably warm today,” he managed, as he continued to search the crowd for any sign of Annabelle. Perhaps she’d decided not to come after all. Perhaps she’d taken ill. Why was he so worried about her whereabouts? He could act perfectly gentlemanlike without her. He’d done it before, and he would do it again. Besides, Marianne was here to keep him in line if his behavior strayed at all.
“Who are you searching for, Lord Elmwood?” came Lady Elspeth’s whisper.
He glanced down to see the young woman looking up at him with adoring hazel eyes. Damn. He’d been rude to not give her his full attention. Poorly done of him. “Oh, er, no one. No one in particular.” He ensured that his gaze remained fixed on Lady Elspeth while he spoke. Marianne and Elspeth’s mother were engaged in their own conversation beside them.
A sly smile tugged at Lady Elspeth’s lips. “You’re looking for Lady Annabelle, aren’t you?”
David nearly spit his champagne. “What? No. Why would you ask that?” He smoothed his hand down his shirtfront, somewhat rattled by the accusation.
Lady Elspeth rocked slowly back and forth upon her heels. She shrugged and brought her own champagne glass to her lips. “Rumor has it that you’re smitten with Lady Annabelle.”
He arched a brow. “Rumor, is it?” he asked, doing his best to sound nonchalant. “From what I understand, ‘rumor’ is filled with inaccuracies.”
Lady Elspeth continued to meet his stare in a most disarming manner. “Perhaps,” she allowed. “But at times rumors prove to be true.”
“Lady Annabelle is soon to be my sister’s new sister-in-law,” David added as if that connection explained everything. “She and her mother have graciously offered to help my sister and I navigate Society.”
“So you aren’t smitten with her?” Lady Elspeth ventured.
David swallowed more champagne. This time it was nearly a gulp. “Not in the least.” There. That had sounded convincing. Hadn’t it? Too bad it was a damn lie.
Another sly smile spread slowly across Lady Elspeth’s face. “I’m ever so pleased to hear that, my lord.”
He gave her an encouraging smile. That settled it. Perhaps Lady Elspeth would tell the others and the gossip about him being smitten with Annabelle would go away. He really should spend more time with pretty Lady Elspeth. The young woman seemed interested, unlike a certain dyed-in-the-wool spinster.
“But if you were looking for Lady Annabelle,” Elspeth added, nodding toward the dance floor, “she’s just over there dancing with Lord Murdock.”
Chapter Twenty
Annabelle narrowed her eyes on David. He’d seemed out of sorts ever since he’d strode into the salon this morning. Last night at the Milfords’ party, they’d barely spoken. He hadn’t asked her to dance, and today, while she was teaching him the proper way to greet guests in a receiving line, his answers to her questions were short and clipped.
“Are you quite all right?” she finally asked.
He placed his hands on his hips and turned to face her. “Excellent. How are you?”
Annabelle crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“Glad to hear it,” he replied, blinking at her innocently. “Especially given the quantity of champagne you drank last night.”
“I beg your pardon.” She frowned at him, her mouth slightly open.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “By my count, it was at least five glasses.”
She gave him a smug smile. “It was six. I had one before you arrived.”
His brows shot up. “Six glasses of champagne? Is that seemly for a debutante?”
“I don’t know, my lord, is ten seemly for an earl?”
He scowled. “How do you know I had ten?”
“You’re not the only one who can count. And besides, the Milfords’ are famous for watering down their champagne to make it last longer.”
David shook his head. “Well, that explains quite a bit. But it doesn’t explain why you danced with Lord Murdock again twice last night after you’ve told me more than once you’re not interested in him.”
Annabelle lifted her chin. How dare David say such a thing in an accusing voice? “I’m not interested in him.”
“Then why were you dancing with him?” David shot back.
Annabelle plunked her fists on her hips. “What business is it of yours?” She’d spent the last two nights unable to sleep, trying to decide the best way to handle Lord Murdock’s unwanted advances. She certainly didn’t want the man to spread the gossip that she and David had been kissing on the Talbots’ verandah, but she’d rather be ruined than marry that snake. She’d finally decided that the best course of action would be to play along with the man’s demands at least until after her brother’s wedding. If Murdock made good on his threats to tell everyone she’d kissed David, at least her brother and Marianne would be happily and safely married before Annabelle brought shame upon the family. It was her fault after all—she’d been the one to respond to David’s kiss. If she’d slapped him and left him on the verandah, there wouldn’t be much to gossip about. Instead, she’d provided that scoundrel Lord Murdock with the perfect fodder for a scandal.