Jane, dancing with young Lord Blakeney, had almost forgotten her apprehension about the evening when fate finally caught up with her. A group of four young men had come into the ballroom; even from her place amongst the dancers, Jane could see everyone craning to watch. A few glances were cast in her direction and with a sinking heart she realised that one of the men was Lord Philip Delahaye. She saw one of the others lean close to Lord Philip and he turned towards her, scanning the ballroom.
Jane tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible, shrinking amongst the other dancers. Unfortunately the set was coming to an end and she was obliged to accept Lord Blakeney’s escort back to her mother and Lady Eleanor. She watched Lord Philip draw closer, he and his cronies strolling with lazy disdain across the floor towards them. Her breath caught in her throat. What on earth was she going to say?
‘Lady Verey.’ Lord Philip’s bow was much more punctilious than on the occasion of their previous meeting. ‘Aunt Eleanor.’
Lady Eleanor frowned slightly. Lord Philip was no favourite of hers. ‘How do you do, Philip? It is a surprise to see you here! I thought that you had little time for Almack’s!’
Lord Philip looked vaguely discomfited. A hint of colour came into his face. Jane suddenly thought how young he looked, for all his dandified appearance. He could only be a couple of years older than she was. His fair hair flopped across his brow with carefully arranged disorder and his shirt points inhibited him from turning his head too much. He looked a little like a schoolboy trying to appear grown-up. Jane stifled a smile.
‘Came to pay my respects to Miss Verey again,’ he muttered, his colour rising higher. He turned to Jane. ‘How do you do, ma’am? I hope that you will spare a dance for me later.’
Jane dropped a slight curtsy, avoiding his gaze. ‘How do you do, sir,’ she responded colourlessly. ‘I should be delighted.’
There was an awkward silence. Lord Philip’s friends began to fidget behind him. They had expected far greater sport than this. Murmuring their excuses, they drifted away, leaving Lord Philip marooned and looking very uncomfortable.
‘Very pretty, Philip,’ Lady Eleanor approved with deliberate tactlessness. ‘Everyone will see now that those silly rumours are nothing more than empty gossip! Now, may I make you known to Miss Sophia Marchment, a friend of Miss Verey’s from Wiltshire? Miss Marchment-Lord Philip Delahaye.’
Lord Philip turned to look at Sophia properly for the first time. Jane, watching with sudden sharpened interest, saw the first moment that he truly saw Sophia and the arrested expression that came into his eyes. Sophia, for her part, blushed adorably and curtsied most gracefully.
‘How do you do, sir? I am most happy to meet you!’
Lord Philip was still holding Sophia’s hand as though he had forgotten that it rested in his. His blue gaze was fixed on her face with a half-dazed, half-wondering look.
Well! Jane thought, both amused and a little concerned. Perhaps there was some virtue in Lord Philip after all, if he were able to recognise Sophia’s innate beauty and goodness at a single glance.
‘Good God!’ Lady Eleanor said suddenly and it was a measure of her shock that she used the phrase at all. ‘It is your brother, Philip! Alex is here! I am sure…I have no recollection of him ever attending Almack’s!’
The habitual sullen expression replaced the wondering look on Philip’s face. ‘Keeping an eye on me, no doubt, ma’am!’ he said, with a tight smile. ‘Miss Marchment-’ he turned back to Sophia urgently ‘-will you grant me this next dance?’
‘Of course, sir.’ Sophia looked shy and confused. ‘I should be honoured-’
Lord Philip had already drawn her away on to the floor before she could finish her sentence. Lady Verey, Lady Eleanor and Jane looked at each other with varying shades of surprise.
‘Well!’ Lady Eleanor said explosively, but Jane was no longer listening. All her attention was riveted on the tall figure of Alexander Delahaye as he came towards them across the ballroom. In full evening dress he looked magnificent, the black and white stark but elegant. As dark as Lord Philip was fair, his silky black hair gleamed in the light with the dark resonance of ebony. Jane dimly registered that her brother Simon and Lord Henry Marchnight flanked the Duke on either side and that their arrival was creating the biggest stir of the evening, bigger by far than that caused by Lord Philip and his friends.
‘Alex!’ Lady Eleanor had regained her sangfroid by the time they arrived. ‘Must you create such a commotion wherever you go?’ She turned to smile at Simon and Lord Henry. ‘Gentlemen…allow me to congratulate you on turning an evening at Almack’s into an event! If you are the cavalry you are sadly late, but fortunately there is no need of rescue! Philip has been before you and has done the pretty!’
The Duke raised his black brows. ‘I saw that Ponsonby, Malters and Cheriton were expecting a show!’ he said drily. ‘I trust there were no problems, ma’am?’
Lady Eleanor smiled at him, in perfect understanding. ‘Now, Alex, not even Philip would show such bad ton as to make a scene at Almack’s!’
‘I wish someone would tell me what all this is about!’ Lady Verey said plaintively. ‘I have heard nothing but veiled hints and mysterious remarks all evening!’
Simon cleared his throat. ‘I’ll go and find a drink, then, if the crisis is over! Harry? Alex? Can I fetch anything for you?’
Alex! Jane thought. It had not taken the Duke long to achieve a friendly footing with Simon! That did not augur well for her plans at all. She was aware that Henry Marchnight was looking at her thoughtfully and suddenly she felt rather hollow. Harry knew her well enough to guess at what she had done to get rid of Lord Philip at Ambergate. Would he give her away? Worse, Alex Delahaye was clearly no fool and he was watching her with a mixture of amusement and speculative consideration that was far more disturbing than Henry’s friendly scrutiny. Suddenly Jane felt as though all her difficulties had caught up with her with a vengeance.
‘Miss Verey.’ Alex drew her to one side, speaking softly. ‘I hope that you are recovered from your accident earlier. It seems that you came to no lasting harm, for you are in excellent looks this evening!’
Jane caught sight of Lady Eleanor looking absolutely stunned, her eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline. Evidently the Duke of Delahaye paid a compliment as rarely as he attended Almack’s, but Jane did not flatter herself that he meant it. She had a deep conviction that he was making the opening moves in a game he was intent on playing with her.
‘Yes, I thank you, your grace. I am much better and I must thank you for your help.’ Jane was glad that she still sounded so composed when her heart was racing.
The Duke shrugged negligently. ‘I am glad that I was able to be of service, Miss Verey. Now, I see Lady Sefton approaching. May I ask her to grant you permission to waltz with me?’
Even Lady Eleanor, for all her town bronze, gasped at that one. Jane met the Duke’s dark gaze and saw the laughter lurking there. So she had been correct in thinking that he was making a game of her! The temptation to respond was very strong, to show him that she was no milk-and-water miss. However, that was too dangerous. She would not play.
‘I thank you, your Grace, but I do not waltz,’ she said steadily.
She had the satisfaction of seeing the lazy amusement fade from his eyes, to be replaced by shrewd calculation. Lady Verey, unaware of the by-play, stepped in hastily to smooth over any awkwardness.
‘Oh, Jane, you need have no concern as to that! It is perfectly proper for you to waltz if one of the patronesses of Almack’s gives her permission-’
‘Thank you, Mama.’
Jane, exasperated by her mother’s well-meaning intervention, looked up to see the Duke’s eyes still on her and, worse, that he had read her thoughts. The amusement was back. She knew that she had been checkmated.