“You promised to exhibit no trace of the hoyden tonight, remember, Lily?” Arabella reminded her as Marcus helped the ladies on with their cloaks and wraps.
Lily gave a droll smile. “I remember. You needn’t worry, Belle. I would not have endured all those excruciating fittings or primped for hours this afternoon if I planned to spoil our big night.”
“Well, the result is splendid.”
Lily dimpled before twirling around in her new apparel. “We do look elegant, don’t we?”
Arabella had to laugh. While Lilian felt more at home in a shabby old riding habit, she was feminine enough to appreciate a beautiful gown.
Arabella was as pleased with her sisters’ ball gowns as she was with her own. Roslyn wore elegant white lace over deep rose silk that set off her fair delicacy, while Lily sparkled in gold-shot tissue over pale gold crepe that accented her vivid coloring. Dark-haired Tess looked just as lovely in lilac lustring, even though her gown was two Seasons old.
When Marcus complimented all the ladies on their appearance, however, Lily’s lively good humor disappeared to be replaced by wary politeness as he escorted them out to his carriage.
During the drive, the conversation was amiable enough, with Tess and Marcus upholding most of the discussion. Roslyn was unusually quiet, Arabella noticed. And by the time the carriage drew up before the brightly lit Perry mansion, Arabella herself had developed an unexpected case of nerves. When she felt Tess squeeze her hand in sympathy, she gave her friend a grateful smile and then steeled her spine for the ordeal ahead.
She needn’t have worried, Arabella quickly realized. The reception she and her sisters were given by their hosts and the other guests was beyond anything she could have hoped for-all because of Marcus. Judging by the excessive toadying and bowing and scraping the company did for his benefit, one would have thought the Prince Regent himself had appeared in their midst. What a difference his sponsorship made!
Lady Freemantle noticed also, and told Marcus so at the first opportunity, during a lull before the dancing began.
“ ’Tis commendable, the interest you are taking in your wards, Lord Danvers,” Winifred said, beaming at him in approval.
Standing beside him, Arabella saw Marcus acknowledge the praise with a slight bow. “It is only my duty, my lady.”
Winifred snorted. “A pity your predecessor didn’t share your sentiments. If Lionel had put out the least bit of effort, his nieces would have had far easier a time of it. Maybe even weathered the scandals their mama and papa incited.”
“His neglect was criminal,” Marcus agreed. “But I shall do my best to rectify it.”
Winifred suddenly gave Arabella a sharp glance. “You should appreciate his lordship, my girl. Your success is now assured.”
Just then, Lady Freemantle was hailed by one of her cronies, and she turned away, leaving Arabella alone with Marcus, since her sisters and Tess had drifted off earlier to speak to some other guests.
“I agree, you should appreciate me,” Marcus said, amused.
Arabella couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, I most certainly do…especially for my sisters’ sake.”
“And what about your own?”
Her expression turned thoughtful as she considered his question. “I am indeed grateful, of course. But surprisingly, the prospect of being reestablished in this illustrious company”-she waved a hand at the crowded ballroom-“doesn’t mean as much as I thought it would. I learned to live without the ton’s approval for the past four years, and I suspect I can do without it in the future. But for Roslyn and Lily…I truly do thank you, Marcus.”
Their gazes locked for a long moment, before Arabella managed to tear hers away from his unexpectedly tender one.
“Will you honor me with the first set?” Marcus said, changing the subject.
She shook her head. “Thank you, but I planned to remain on the sidelines tonight with the widows and spinsters as usual. The teachers at the Freemantle Academy are expected to behave with proper decorum and to set a good example for our young ladies.”
It was Marcus’s turn to shake his head. “It is not improper to dance with your guardian. And you aren’t here tonight as a teacher. You are here as Miss Loring of Danvers Hall, the ward of an earl.” When Arabella hesitated, Marcus prodded her. “Come, admit it, you would enjoy dancing.”
“Well, yes…I would. But it should not be the first set. Lady Perry will be heartbroken if you don’t lead her out, since you are the highest ranking guest of honor.”
“The first waltz, then.”
Again Arabella hesitated. She had never danced a waltz with anyone but the academy’s dancing master. Once considered scandalous because of the couple’s intimate embrace, the waltz had not been introduced from the Continent until two years after her betrothal ended. And the prospect of being held so closely in Marcus’s arms worried her a little.
As if he could read her mind, Marcus raised a challenging eyebrow. “Are you being missish again, love? Surely you aren’t afraid to waltz with me in public?”
Naturally Arabella couldn’t resist his dare, as he doubtless intended. “Certainly I am not afraid. Very well, the first waltz. But I hope you will dance with my sisters as well.”
“Of course, I intend to.”
Arabella smiled sweetly. “Then as long as you are being so gallant, my lord…” From the sleeve of her glove, she drew out a small scrap of paper. “This is a list of our academy’s pupils who will be attending tonight. Perhaps you will be so kind as to ask them also.”
Marcus took the list and scrutinized it with amusement. “A half dozen simpering young ladies. You are all damned heart, trying to palm me off on your pupils.”
Arabella’s smile widened. “I am only thinking of their feelings. They will be thrilled to be singled out for your attention.”
There was a gleam of laughter in his eye. “You realize this hardly falls under the rules of ‘fair play.’”
She raised an eyebrow herself. “I seem to recall you have bent the rules more than once in your own favor, Marcus. And I do still have a wager to win, if you recall. Who knows? One of our young ladies might sweep you off your feet and convince you to abandon your courtship of me.”
Her teasing reply made him laugh. “Very well, vixen, as long as you recognize what lengths I’m willing to go to in order to curry your favor. But I will take you and your sisters into supper later.”
“Certainly. We would be honored.”
If Marcus was reluctant to dance with their hostess, Lady Perry, he gave no indication but soon went in search of her.
Arabella was about to take her usual place on the sidelines with the chaperones when Winifred sailed up to her with an elderly gentleman in tow, whom she introduced as a desirable dance partner. Thankfully, when the orchestra prepared to strike up the opening cotillion, Winifred abandoned her obvious attempts at matchmaking and instead sought out the card tables in the nearby parlor while Arabella took the floor with her partner.
After that she danced with four different gentlemen, and she was gratified that her sisters found suitable partners as well. Their popularity was a far cry from what they’d been accustomed to the past four years.
And then it came time for her waltz with Marcus. Arabella felt a nervous flutter in her stomach as he led her onto the floor and drew her into the proper stance-one hand clasping hers, the other pressed lightly at her waist.
Being held in his embrace was as unsettling as she expected, but her nerves melted a little when Marcus swept her into the lilting rhythm of the waltz.
“You are a remarkably good dancer,” Arabella praised him after a moment.
He smiled down at her. “I am gratified you think so. You are quite remarkable yourself.”