performing the simple steps before returning to my proper place in line. “I’m curious. Do you really like working for Professor Baines? He seems a rather polarizing character.”
“You don’t expect me to admit otherwise, do you?” he asked with a laugh.
“So he is a man without fault?” I asked teasingly.
Byron finished his steps before replying. “No, of course not. I suppose one might say that there is, perhaps, a slight disposition to vanity and pride.”
I affected an expression of amazement. “Are you suggesting that Richard Baines is vain and proud? I’m all astonishment.”
Byron assumed an intentionally blank face. “You may very well think that. I couldn’t possibly comment.”
“Oh, a fan of Francis Urquhart, are we?”
Byron let out a laugh and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Now I must give one smirk, and then we may be rational again.” He produced the promised smirk and then added, “Honestly. I do need this job. It’s not perfect, but it pays well.”
“Don’t apologize. I just quit one of those jobs myself. The resulting giddy feeling of emancipation is wonderful until you look at your checkbook.” I was just completing another step-and-turn routine when I was thrown off balance as someone ran past me. Thankfully, Byron caught my arm and righted me before I fell down. Turning, I saw that it was Lindsay who had pushed past me. I almost didn’t recognize her. Gone was the meek creature I’d met on the plane. Underneath her cable-knit sweaters and wool skirts, Lindsay was hiding a very sexy figure. The clingy gown she was wearing tonight made that perfectly clear. However, her figure wasn’t what caught my attention; it was her face as she threaded her way through the crowd and out of the room. It was splotchy with high emotion. I glanced up at Byron. His eyes stayed focused on her before seeking out another figure in the crowd. I followed his glance. It was to Richard he looked. Richard was adjusting his Darcy mask, which seemed to have been pushed (or slapped?) askew. Looking back to Byron, I saw that his face was dark with anger.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
Byron didn’t answer immediately. “I don’t know,” he finally said.
“Lindsay seems upset. Should someone go after her?”
Byron seemed to debate this as we continued our steps in time to the music. “I wouldn’t know what to say. I think she’s developed something of a crush on Richard.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, you think?”
Byron raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“It’s kind of obvious,” I amended.
He sighed. “She’s a nice kid, but she doesn’t seem to get the fact that Richard is married. And he’d never divorce Alex.”
“Really?” I asked. “I guess I have a hard time picturing Richard as an until-death-do-us-part kind of guy, especially as it sounds like he left his first wife for her.”
Byron’s mouth opened in surprise. “Jesus! The gossip mill has been churning, I see!”
“What do you expect? After all, we are at a festival of voluntary spies.”
“True,” Byron agreed. “Well, let’s just say that Richard no longer believes in divorce. He’d rather not give any more of his money to divorce lawyers.”
“Does that mean there is trouble in the Baines marriage?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Far from it. Alex is devoted to him, and he seems quite happy with her…” He trailed off, leaving me with the impression that he couldn’t quite fathom why that latter part was true.
“She’s very pretty,” I offered.
His eyes sought out mine. At the moment, the laugh lines around them were especially deep. “Yes, well, as to that—what was it that Austen said? Oh yes, ‘Woman is fine for her own satisfaction alone.’ I think that sums Alex up rather nicely.”
“What sums me up, if I might be so bold to inquire?” inquired a hard voice.
Byron and I whirled around. Before us stood Alex in all her Elizabeth Bennet finery. She really
“You don’t expect me to admit otherwise, do you?” he asked with a laugh.
“So he is a man without fault?” I asked teasingly.
Byron finished his steps before replying. “No, of course not. I suppose one might say that there is, perhaps, a slight disposition to vanity and pride.”
I affected an expression of amazement. “Are you suggesting that Richard Baines is vain and proud? I’m all astonishment.”
Byron assumed an intentionally blank face. “You may very well think that. I couldn’t possibly comment.”
“Oh, a fan of Francis Urquhart, are we?”
Byron let out a laugh and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Now I must give one smirk, and then we may be rational again.” He produced the promised smirk and then added, “Honestly. I do need this job. It’s not perfect, but it pays well.”
“Don’t apologize. I just quit one of those jobs myself. The resulting giddy feeling of emancipation is wonderful until you look at your checkbook.” I was just completing another step-and-turn routine when I was thrown off balance as someone ran past me. Thankfully, Byron caught my arm and righted me before I fell down. Turning, I saw that it was Lindsay who had pushed past me. I almost didn’t recognize her. Gone was the meek creature I’d met on the plane. Underneath her cable-knit sweaters and wool skirts, Lindsay was hiding a very sexy figure. The clingy gown she was wearing tonight made that perfectly clear. However, her figure wasn’t what caught my attention; it was her face as she threaded her way through the crowd and out of the room. It was splotchy with high emotion. I glanced up at Byron. His eyes stayed focused on her before seeking out another figure in the crowd. I followed his glance. It was to Richard he looked. Richard was adjusting his Darcy mask, which seemed to have been pushed (or slapped?) askew. Looking back to Byron, I saw that his face was dark with anger.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
Byron didn’t answer immediately. “I don’t know,” he finally said.
“Lindsay seems upset. Should someone go after her?”
Byron seemed to debate this as we continued our steps in time to the music. “I wouldn’t know what to say. I think she’s developed something of a crush on Richard.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, you think?”
Byron raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“It’s kind of obvious,” I amended.
He sighed. “She’s a nice kid, but she doesn’t seem to get the fact that Richard is married. And he’d never divorce Alex.”
“Really?” I asked. “I guess I have a hard time picturing Richard as an until-death-do-us-part kind of guy, especially as it sounds like he left his first wife for her.”
Byron’s mouth opened in surprise. “Jesus! The gossip mill has been churning, I see!”
“What do you expect? After all, we are at a festival of voluntary spies.”
“True,” Byron agreed. “Well, let’s just say that Richard no longer believes in divorce. He’d rather not give any more of his money to divorce lawyers.”
“Does that mean there is trouble in the Baines marriage?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Far from it. Alex is devoted to him, and he seems quite happy with her…” He trailed off, leaving me with the impression that he couldn’t quite fathom why that latter part was true.
“She’s very pretty,” I offered.
His eyes sought out mine. At the moment, the laugh lines around them were especially deep. “Yes, well, as to that—what was it that Austen said? Oh yes, ‘Woman is fine for her own satisfaction alone.’ I think that sums Alex up rather nicely.”
“What sums me up, if I might be so bold to inquire?” inquired a hard voice.
Byron and I whirled around. Before us stood Alex in all her Elizabeth Bennet finery. She really
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