He was not given much time in which to either control his anger or allow it to build. Lord Chalmers was leading his wife out onto the floor to begin the opening set. Other sets were beginning to form around them. Lord Rutherford turned toward Jessica, bowed stiffly, and held out his arm for her hand.
Jessica was feeling flushed and inwardly excited by the time the ball was two hours old. Amazingly, she had been partnered for every set, though she had been fully prepared to stand on the sidelines with the dowager duchess for most of the evening as a mere spectator of the dancing. She had not expected to draw the notice of any gentleman, unknown as she was.
It was not just gentlemen to whom she had been presented. The dowager had taken her to meet her daughter-in-law, the duchess, and her granddaughter, Lady Bradley. Both were very different from Lord Rutherford, she noticed. The duchess had graying fair hair and was comfortably plump. Her daughter was a younger version of herself though not yet as ample in figure. Jessica felt deeply mortified at being thus presented to them. In other, slightly altered circumstances, she would be completely beyond their lowest notice, their son's and brother's chere amie, no less. As it was, Lady Bradley invited her to attend her soiree three evenings hence.
Jessica also met Lord Rutherford's other sister, unmarried though she was older than he. Lady Hope looked somewhat like her brother, tall, slim almost to the point of thinness, dark, rather handsome. But she lacked the haughtiness of either her brother or her grandmother. She had a habit, Jessica noticed, of smiling quickly and nervously, her hands fluttering aimlessly.
Lady Hope came to speak to her grandmother and to meet Jessica between the first and second sets and made herself agreeable. Sir Godfrey Hall was forced to interrupt her conversation with Jessica in order to lead the latter onto the floor for the quadrille. Lady Hope smiled at him and curtsied. He smiled warmly back and signed her card for the supper waltz before leading Jessica away.
Had she enjoyed the ball so far? Jessica asked herself when the dowager put that very question to her. The supper dance was next. It was a waltz, and the duchess had assured her that she might dance it though she had not been approved by the hostesses of Almack's. That was a ridiculous custom anyway, the old lady said, and one that certainly need not apply outside the months of the Season and to a lady well past her twentieth birthday.
Had she enjoyed the ball? Yes, of course she had. There was a thoroughly heady feeling of triumph in being at a ton event and accepted just as if she were one of their number by everyone present. She had not seen anyone frown her way or whisper behind a hand or a fan. There was satisfaction in knowing that she looked well enough that a whole succession of gentlemen had sought an introduction to her so that they might dance with her. And there was a delightful sense of freedom in being able to dance, to look her partners in the eye, to converse with them, smile at them, laugh with them. Only two weeks before she had been a governess, hemmed in by rules, expected to be seen and not heard outside the confines of the schoolroom.
And yet how could she enjoy herself fully? The dowager had assured her that Lord Rutherford did not frequent the same events as she. Was it merely an unfortunate coincidence that he was in attendance at her very first social appearance? Or had the duchess lied to her? Jessica suspected the latter. She did not want to be in his presence. She had been horribly embarrassed ever since she had first glimpsed him strolling toward his grandmother before the dancing started.
She had been unable to relax since, unable to ignore his tall, elegant presence in the ballroom. How could he be dressed all in gold and snowy white without looking to even the slightest degree effeminate? He had not once left the ballroom even though many other gentlemen noticeably came and went. She had not seen Sir Godfrey since the second set. And the Duke of Middleburgh and Lord Bradley were in the card room, their wives had explained.
Lord Rutherford had remained, standing beside his mother much of the time. He had danced with each of his sisters but with no one else, though even Jessica had noticed that a great deal of feminine attention was focused his way. In the few glances she had dared send his way, she had found that he was not looking at her. Why did she feel so very observed then, so very exposed?
What must he think of her? He must consider her a dreadful opportunist, staying at Berkeley Square as his grandmother's guest when he had sent her there for assistance in finding a situation as a governess. No, she did not need to ask what he thought. Looks had already spoken loudly enough. He had not said a word during that first set. Indeed, it would have been difficult to hold any sustained conversation as it was a country dance and they were frequently separated by the figures of the set. But he had looked dictionaries of meaning.
He had not taken his eyes from her throughout the set, she would swear, and she had found somewhat to her dismay that she could not withdraw her gaze from his. And she had read accusation, contempt, fury in his eyes. She had clamped her teeth tightly together and lifted her chin in an unconscious gesture of defiance. She might be embarrassed, dreadfully so, but she was not going to creep around Lord Rutherford, eyes constantly lowered to the floor, as she had done for two years with the Barries. Those days were over even if she found in the future that she had to go back to being someone's governess.
The dowager duchess was looking at her inquiringly. "Yes, your grace," she said. "I am enjoying myself immensely. How could I not when so many people are quite flattering in their attentions?"
"Here comes Charles to claim your hand for the waltz," the duchess said. "Do have a good time, dear. I have heard that the boy performs the steps with remarkable flair. In my day, of course, we would have thought it a shockingly forward dance. But there is a certain elegance to it, I must confess."
"Miss Moore?" the earl said, stretching out an imperious hand for Jessica's. "My dance, I believe, ma'am."
If he had two ice chips for eyes, Jessica thought, as she laid a hand in his, there would not be enough heat in him to melt them.
"Yes, my lord," she agreed, trying to ignore the voice of the dowager behind her assuring Lord Rutherford that she did the waltz most charmingly.
When he stopped among the other dancers, placed one hand at her waist, and clasped one of hers in the other, and when she lifted her free hand to his very solid shoulder, Jessica had to fight the urge to lower her eyes and hope to escape his notice by meek silence. She raised her eyes and looked into his. They still looked remarkably like ice chips, blue ice chips.
"I totally misjudged you, you know, Jess," he said, his voice as cold as his eyes.
"Did you?" she asked.
"I took you for a meek servant who was quite bewildered and frightened by the prospect of being turned off without a character," he said. "I thought you quite unable to cope with the wide world beyond your schoolroom."
"Did you?" she said. "And was that why you made the offer you did, my lord? Did you hope that I would have been irrevocably compromised and committed to being nothing more than your mistress for the rest of my life before I realized that there were other possibilities for the future?"
His hand tightened at her waist as the orchestra began playing and he led her into the steps of the waltz. He stared at her tight-lipped for the time it took her to count silently in threes and feel the rhythm of the dance. But such concentration was unnecessary, she discovered almost immediately. He was quite as expert as his grandmother had suggested. She could not choose but follow his lead.
"In a word, yes," he said. "And if that was sarcasm in your tone, Jess, I resent it. It is no insult, you know, for such as you to be offered the position of mistress to the Earl of Rutherford. There are many females above the rank of servant who would jump at the chance."