Well, that was not well done of him. The disparaging glares cast in his direction when he contradicted Rigby’s announcement of a fondness for poetry were more unsettling than the notion of destitution. Well, almost. Surely poverty would offer him the opportunity for equal censure if he did not have a care. Nearsightedness as it pertained to conversation would do little to ingratiate his company if he abandoned finesse. His focus may be solely on destroying Leonard’s affection toward Fiona, but it would not be achieved in a heavy-handed manner, the likely approach employed by Leonard’s father.
Curse Jasper and his lack-witted idea. A more sensible policy would provide his brother stop gambling, wasting funds, and idling away time, as Valerian had warned him to do years ago. Instead Valerian was forced into a role of falsity, trussed up like a holiday goose in an uncomfortable sample ensemble. He clenched his teeth and revised his approach. Although the dinner bell had rung, several couples still milled in the hallway while others conversed near the windows. Time held firm for an alternate plan.
“Lady Collingsworth, may I beg a word?” He executed a polite bow and called forth his most charming smile for the evening’s hostess.
“Lord Dashwood, such a delight.” The older woman, fanning her face madly, offered him complete attention with a grin, the effusive scent of orchids floating around her person. “I’m so pleased you chose to attend. You’re looking well. I’d venture to say this return to London is quite timely as I rarely entertain once the season is in full swing.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it.” Not for five thousand pounds. He exhaled deeply, gathering his makeshift plan close to heart and producing another smile.
“Have you tried the curried shrimp? My cook prepared an exquisite menu and the appetizers are merely a taste.” She inclined her head to compensate for the loud conversation as the crowd moved toward the dining room. Her expression shifted from pride to question.
He returned her enthusiasm. “Everything has been lovely. Beyond my expectations, but may I inquire of the seating this evening? Would it pose an imposition for a slight realignment in regard to the meal’s dining arrangement?”
“Aah, romance.” An expression of slight misgiving, then realization dawned. “You have your eye on a particular lady, you scoundrel? And to think I believed your brother the rabblerouser in your family.” Her cheeks took on a crimson glow as if she spoke from experience rather than assumption. “Consider it done. Never would I stand in the way of blossoming affection, most especially when you’ve been absent from the social scene. It’s a genuine pleasure to have you at the table. Feel free to rearrange the cards to ensure you converse with the lady who has captured your interest. Good luck with your chase.” She fluttered her satin-gloved hand in the direction of the dinner table as if to encourage him to interfere with her meticulous planning.
“You flatter me, Lady Collingsworth, when it is I who should thank you for your gracious invitation on such short notice. I appreciate your agreeability.” He took a few steps to the right, anxious to reach the place cards before guests advanced to their seats.
“Nonsense, the pleasure is mine. Now you should be about your plan before my guests descend on the table and you’ll have no choice but to watch some other lucky gentleman woo the woman who’s turned your head.” She withdrew as she spoke. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to oversee dinner service.”
Three strides took him nearer the table but his steps slowed as he noticed Lady Montgomery intent on the same direction, her head bowed in the similar manner as when she’d found her way into a roadway ditch. He watched, bemused, as candlelight danced on the silky strands of her hair, hues of brandy and mahogany swept in a lovely style and pinned behind her neck with an ornate clip. Her eyes darted right and left as if ensuring no one noticed her purposeful presence, but how could one ignore her? There was nothing singularly unique about the gown, nor the coiffure or jewelry, yet her grace was natural, her beauty pure; as if she alone was the sole lady in the room.
She shot a second glance over her shoulder before her eyes bowed to the table. He watched with stunning anticipation as she palmed two seating cards and replaced them further down the table with the smooth efficiency of a practiced thief. If he wasn’t so intrigued by her actions, he might have admired her spunk and fortitude. She wore a triumphant smile. Whatsoever was the lady up to? There was only one way to find out.
“Lady Montgomery.” He adjusted his cuffs in feigned preoccupation, although he hadn’t missed the startle of her shoulders when he’d eased behind her. A few feathery wisps of hair had escaped her coif and the desire to nuzzle her neck, to feel the silky softness of her skin entered his mind with unexpected clarity. Reclaiming his focus with a strong blink, he thrust the thought aside and pursued his answer. “Whatsoever are you doing redesigning Lady Collingsworth’s table? Was the guest to your right an unbearable bore or did you merely wish to sit beside me?”
She drew a quick breath at his question and then stared at the table as if she didn’t realize what she’d perpetrated.
“The choice between boredom and your company would be an exercise in redundancy, Lord Dashwood.”
Her flippant tone contradicted the tremble of her chin. She’d been caught and entirely unsettled by the matter, yet she’d managed a sharp set down despite the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Bravo.
Valerian glanced at the place cards directly in front of him and a flame of annoyance licked at his brain. Lady Montgomery had rearranged Lord Rigby’s seat so the gentleman belonged beside Lady Fiona. If she’d left well enough alone, fate would have done his job. Lady Montgomery’s meddling would become a nuisance if she persisted.
“I doubt Lady Collingsworth would countenance your interference of her place settings. Women go to great lengths to manage their tables. There must be a very important reason for you to shuffle the deck.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Perhaps that rap on the head addled your wits more than mine.”
She eyed him with cautious attention and sarcasm crept into her tone, yet although her words were biting, her face looked as anxious and bewildered by her comments as he should be. And while her rebuke was meant to wound, her eyes said something else entirely. Here stood a woman who likely had not one contrary bone in her body, her sable brown gaze as clear as her conscience. So why would she be anxiously manipulating the place settings?
He dropped his eyes to the damask tablecloth, the noisy shuttle of silverware indicating guests claimed their places. Time had run out. His name card sat to the left of hers. That had been the card she’d replaced, hadn’t it? He flicked his eyes to her guileless face. Was it an accident or an intentional maneuver on her part? She couldn’t have vied to place him by her side, could she? A tic of curiosity overpowered better sense and sent his pulse into a wild thrum. Foolish, very foolish.
Lady Montgomery’s face remained expressionless, her lips as silent as an empty vault. To make matters worse, opportunity was no longer his ally as people took their seats, Leonard chatting profusely as he escorted Lady Fiona to her place.
They were well into the soup course and Valerian remained confused with Wilhelmina’s intent. She spoke little, exemplified the finest manners, and cared not a whit he sat by her side which confirmed his earlier suspicion she held another aim to her purpose. Between bites she conversed politely with the lady to her right, but that conversation too, the fashion trend of feathered bonnets, would not instigate a need to reorganize the seating. What could she be up to? If she held no purpose in sitting beside the guest to her right, and paid him no attention at her left, little sense was to be made of the situation.
Meanwhile, Leonard and Fiona exchanged engaging glances at every opportunity, their lively banter littered with double entendre and flirtation. The evening was on a quick downslide to disaster.
Valerian cleared his throat and feigned interest in the tedious conversation holding him captive. Lord Fielding seemed determined