to view the whole sex as a group of ill-disguised courtesans, and he looked upon the entire world with a new and bitter cynicism.
But, he would have insisted staunchly if anyone had asked, he was having a very good time indeed.
Chapter Eight
“I tell you, Alec, you are making a huge mistake. This one’s a diamond !”
“Enough, Ferdie. I’m not in the least interested. I’ve no wish to indulge in one of those pointless little flirtations with insipid young ladies.”
Ferdie shook his head and surveyed his friend with grudging admiration. Alec looked at home to a peg as he leaned against the door-jamb of the ballroom at the Chapenhams’ and surveyed the dancers with an air of utter boredom. From the top of his hair (cut in a dashing “Brutus”) to the tip of his shiny leather evening shoes, he was top-of-the-trees. His whole attitude suggested the jaded sophistication of the true Corinthian. He, Ferdie Sellars, had made a man-of-the-world of his once reclusive friend. The only problem was that he had not been able to convince Alec that his newfound cynicism toward women of the ton was becoming obsessive. His friend Alec seemed happy, indulging in all manner of sporting activities and games of chance, and he’d even found himself a chère amie to satisfy his need for female companionship, but he preferred to avoid all close contact with ladies of his own station. Alec had tried to convince him that it was only proper that he should do so, being still married in the strictly legal sense, but Ferdie suspected that his tendency to avoid females of the ton had deeper roots. The fellow seemed to hold all ladies in aversion.
Tonight was a case in point. Here was this delectable creature positively panting to meet him, and he would have none of it. “I tell you, old chap, that you’re a stubborn fool. This girl is a veritable out-and-outer. Look! There she is now, on Lord Chapenham’s arm. There, to your right. In the emerald-colored dress.”
Alec held up his quizzing glass and scrutinized the young lady Ferdie had been trying to take him to meet. She was indeed a diamond. Her Titian hair was piled on the top of her head in a charming Grecian mode, its color startlingly attractive in contrast to the green of her gown. Her features were small and perfect, her skin fair (its light sprinkling of freckles only enhancing the perfection of her face), her form slim and graceful, and her green eyes mischievous and inviting. “Yes, I see what you mean,” Alec had to admit. “You’re quite right. She is a diamond. At least on the surface.”
“And what’s more,” Ferdie pressed on, “she asked specifically to meet you. I don’t know how you manage it, you fox. What do the ladies see in you?”
Alec ignored the badinage. “She asked to meet me?” he asked suspiciously. “Why?”
Ferdie shrugged. “How should I know? I told her I was the more interesting and agreeable fellow, but it did me little good. It’s you she’s after.”
“What nonsense.” Alec lifted his glass and studied the girl again. She was laughing flirtatiously at a remark that her elderly escort had made, and something in the way she held her head reminded him of Priss when she … But he didn’t permit himself to finish the thought.
“Come now, Alec,” Ferdie persisted. “You must have some curiosity as to why such a tasty morsel wants to meet you.”
“No. None at all.”
“Well, if you don’t, I do. Besides, what harm can there be in it? Come along and let me introduce you.”
Alec shrugged with indifferent agreement, and the two crossed the ballroom and caught up with the young lady in question just as Lord Champenham was about to hand her over to an eager young gentleman who had evidently engaged her hand for the next dance. Ferdie, however, had no intention of letting this opportunity slip through his fingers. He stepped smoothly in front of the fellow, effectively blocking his path. “Look, Clio, my dear,” he said
But, he would have insisted staunchly if anyone had asked, he was having a very good time indeed.
Chapter Eight
“I tell you, Alec, you are making a huge mistake. This one’s a diamond !”
“Enough, Ferdie. I’m not in the least interested. I’ve no wish to indulge in one of those pointless little flirtations with insipid young ladies.”
Ferdie shook his head and surveyed his friend with grudging admiration. Alec looked at home to a peg as he leaned against the door-jamb of the ballroom at the Chapenhams’ and surveyed the dancers with an air of utter boredom. From the top of his hair (cut in a dashing “Brutus”) to the tip of his shiny leather evening shoes, he was top-of-the-trees. His whole attitude suggested the jaded sophistication of the true Corinthian. He, Ferdie Sellars, had made a man-of-the-world of his once reclusive friend. The only problem was that he had not been able to convince Alec that his newfound cynicism toward women of the ton was becoming obsessive. His friend Alec seemed happy, indulging in all manner of sporting activities and games of chance, and he’d even found himself a chère amie to satisfy his need for female companionship, but he preferred to avoid all close contact with ladies of his own station. Alec had tried to convince him that it was only proper that he should do so, being still married in the strictly legal sense, but Ferdie suspected that his tendency to avoid females of the ton had deeper roots. The fellow seemed to hold all ladies in aversion.
Tonight was a case in point. Here was this delectable creature positively panting to meet him, and he would have none of it. “I tell you, old chap, that you’re a stubborn fool. This girl is a veritable out-and-outer. Look! There she is now, on Lord Chapenham’s arm. There, to your right. In the emerald-colored dress.”
Alec held up his quizzing glass and scrutinized the young lady Ferdie had been trying to take him to meet. She was indeed a diamond. Her Titian hair was piled on the top of her head in a charming Grecian mode, its color startlingly attractive in contrast to the green of her gown. Her features were small and perfect, her skin fair (its light sprinkling of freckles only enhancing the perfection of her face), her form slim and graceful, and her green eyes mischievous and inviting. “Yes, I see what you mean,” Alec had to admit. “You’re quite right. She is a diamond. At least on the surface.”
“And what’s more,” Ferdie pressed on, “she asked specifically to meet you. I don’t know how you manage it, you fox. What do the ladies see in you?”
Alec ignored the badinage. “She asked to meet me?” he asked suspiciously. “Why?”
Ferdie shrugged. “How should I know? I told her I was the more interesting and agreeable fellow, but it did me little good. It’s you she’s after.”
“What nonsense.” Alec lifted his glass and studied the girl again. She was laughing flirtatiously at a remark that her elderly escort had made, and something in the way she held her head reminded him of Priss when she … But he didn’t permit himself to finish the thought.
“Come now, Alec,” Ferdie persisted. “You must have some curiosity as to why such a tasty morsel wants to meet you.”
“No. None at all.”
“Well, if you don’t, I do. Besides, what harm can there be in it? Come along and let me introduce you.”
Alec shrugged with indifferent agreement, and the two crossed the ballroom and caught up with the young lady in question just as Lord Champenham was about to hand her over to an eager young gentleman who had evidently engaged her hand for the next dance. Ferdie, however, had no intention of letting this opportunity slip through his fingers. He stepped smoothly in front of the fellow, effectively blocking his path. “Look, Clio, my dear,” he said
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