more handsome than even broody Byron himself.”
Fanny forced a smile to her face. “My other brothers say he is much too pretty, and needs a few scars. They regularly volunteer to give him some.”
“Oh, my stars, no! Mar that handsome face? That would be criminal in the extreme. Ah, but never mind. Look, there’s the Duke. Now there is a fine hatchet face for you.”
“I think him handsome,” Fanny said, looking at the tall man who had paused just inside the doors, to bow over Lady Richmond’s hand. “Rather like Brede.”
Lucie looked at her owlishly. “Like Valentine? Don’t be ridiculous, Fanny. They’re nothing alike.”
“Not in looks, certainly,” Fanny said, her gaze still on the door, as Valentine had just entered behind Wellington. “In manner, in the way their eyes seem to look nowhere, yet see everywhere. They…they’ve lived, experienced things, and you can see that on their faces. My papa would call them both seasoned, I believe. My old nurse, Odette, would call them both dangerous, and delight in that danger.”
“Seasoned? Fanny? Is the heat bothering you? I admit, it is close in here. You’re saying such odd things.”
Fanny drew her gaze away from Valentine, smiled as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Lucie. I believe I’m having some difficulty comparing the gaiety of the dancers with the rather severe expression on his grace’s face. See him? He’s smiling, yet he isn’t smiling. Do you suppose the French are on the move again?”
“Smiling, not smiling. Not looking, but seeing everything. My stars! If I knew you were going to be so maudlin, girl, I would have left you at home. Now smile, really smile, and then laugh as if I’ve just said something witty. Call some attention to yourself. Bat those absurdly long lashes at one of these scarlet-coated young gentlemen. My stars, I’ll not have you sitting like some pale wallflower wilting next to me while I’m flirting with my beaux. It would put a damper on my fun. Think of me, if you can’t think of yourself.”
“Lucie, you’re incorrigible,” Fanny said, pulling out a word Elly and others had used on her from time to time. “But the dance is over and Rian has seen me. He’ll bear me company.”
Fanny held out her skirts and dropped into a small, pert curtsey as Rian bowed to them both. “Well met, brother.”
Rian grinned at her. “Don’t you look fine as nine-pence, Fanny-panny,” he said as Lucie wandered off a few minutes later with the soldier she’d been talking to the other day, at Wellington’s headquarters. Rian held out his arm to her, and Fanny slipped her gloved arm through his elbow. “His lordship has provided well for you, hasn’t he? You’re not driving him mad in order to thank him, I hope.”
“If I’m driving him mad, Rian, it’s only because he’s a maddening man,” Fanny told him as they walked toward the perimeter of the room, for another set was forming. “Have you heard anything more about the French? Brede says they’re moving faster than anyone had hoped, while the Russians and Austrians are still a long march away from joining us.”
Rian rolled his eyes. “Not tonight, Fanny. I’ve ridden Jupiter from here to there and back again, twice, at least a dozen times today. No talk of war tonight, all right? Besides, Wellington won’t go out, engage Bonaparte, not until it’s absolutely necessary. He needs time for Blücher to get his army to us. Now, did you see that girl I was dancing with a moment ago? What do you think?”
Fanny frowned, her mind still very much on Bonaparte and his Grand Armée. “What do I think of what?”
“Of her, of course,” Rian said, dragging Fanny behind a blatantly fake marble pillar wrapped in ivy. “Granted, she giggles, but she’s pretty enough, isn’t she?”
“Ah, but if she giggles?” Fanny did her best to smile, keep her tone light. “Could you really abide a woman who giggles?”
“Probably not for long, no,” Rian
Fanny forced a smile to her face. “My other brothers say he is much too pretty, and needs a few scars. They regularly volunteer to give him some.”
“Oh, my stars, no! Mar that handsome face? That would be criminal in the extreme. Ah, but never mind. Look, there’s the Duke. Now there is a fine hatchet face for you.”
“I think him handsome,” Fanny said, looking at the tall man who had paused just inside the doors, to bow over Lady Richmond’s hand. “Rather like Brede.”
Lucie looked at her owlishly. “Like Valentine? Don’t be ridiculous, Fanny. They’re nothing alike.”
“Not in looks, certainly,” Fanny said, her gaze still on the door, as Valentine had just entered behind Wellington. “In manner, in the way their eyes seem to look nowhere, yet see everywhere. They…they’ve lived, experienced things, and you can see that on their faces. My papa would call them both seasoned, I believe. My old nurse, Odette, would call them both dangerous, and delight in that danger.”
“Seasoned? Fanny? Is the heat bothering you? I admit, it is close in here. You’re saying such odd things.”
Fanny drew her gaze away from Valentine, smiled as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Lucie. I believe I’m having some difficulty comparing the gaiety of the dancers with the rather severe expression on his grace’s face. See him? He’s smiling, yet he isn’t smiling. Do you suppose the French are on the move again?”
“Smiling, not smiling. Not looking, but seeing everything. My stars! If I knew you were going to be so maudlin, girl, I would have left you at home. Now smile, really smile, and then laugh as if I’ve just said something witty. Call some attention to yourself. Bat those absurdly long lashes at one of these scarlet-coated young gentlemen. My stars, I’ll not have you sitting like some pale wallflower wilting next to me while I’m flirting with my beaux. It would put a damper on my fun. Think of me, if you can’t think of yourself.”
“Lucie, you’re incorrigible,” Fanny said, pulling out a word Elly and others had used on her from time to time. “But the dance is over and Rian has seen me. He’ll bear me company.”
Fanny held out her skirts and dropped into a small, pert curtsey as Rian bowed to them both. “Well met, brother.”
Rian grinned at her. “Don’t you look fine as nine-pence, Fanny-panny,” he said as Lucie wandered off a few minutes later with the soldier she’d been talking to the other day, at Wellington’s headquarters. Rian held out his arm to her, and Fanny slipped her gloved arm through his elbow. “His lordship has provided well for you, hasn’t he? You’re not driving him mad in order to thank him, I hope.”
“If I’m driving him mad, Rian, it’s only because he’s a maddening man,” Fanny told him as they walked toward the perimeter of the room, for another set was forming. “Have you heard anything more about the French? Brede says they’re moving faster than anyone had hoped, while the Russians and Austrians are still a long march away from joining us.”
Rian rolled his eyes. “Not tonight, Fanny. I’ve ridden Jupiter from here to there and back again, twice, at least a dozen times today. No talk of war tonight, all right? Besides, Wellington won’t go out, engage Bonaparte, not until it’s absolutely necessary. He needs time for Blücher to get his army to us. Now, did you see that girl I was dancing with a moment ago? What do you think?”
Fanny frowned, her mind still very much on Bonaparte and his Grand Armée. “What do I think of what?”
“Of her, of course,” Rian said, dragging Fanny behind a blatantly fake marble pillar wrapped in ivy. “Granted, she giggles, but she’s pretty enough, isn’t she?”
“Ah, but if she giggles?” Fanny did her best to smile, keep her tone light. “Could you really abide a woman who giggles?”
“Probably not for long, no,” Rian
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