Rescuing Rosalind (Three Original Ladies and Their Gentlemen) by G.G. Vandagriff

descended the staircase. “But I do understand. You must remember that, Fan. No matter how conventional you think I am, I fell in love with a rogue in the midst of his reformation.”
    “And with a crazy man! And with a cad!”
    “Yes. I guess I am not really an appropriate guardian, am I?”
    * * *
     
    As Fanny dressed in a silk gown of soft aqua overlaid with a half skirt of fine ecru antique lace, she tried to put Deal out of her mind. It was too lowering that he thought of her as an adolescent chit he must watch over. She was perfectly capable of managing her own life. Most of the time.
    Elise accompanied her alone; the duke heartily disliked a rout. Fanny was not overly fond of them, herself, but her sister was determined that she socialize, circulate, and find the happiness that she herself had. As if Fanny had not already met everyone there was to meet over the last two seasons.
    After they were welcomed by Lady and Lord Rutherford, they entered the loud mass of people talking, laughing, and drinking champagne punch. Warmsby was the first to approach them.
    “Good evening, your grace and Miss Edwards. You have had a pleasant day, I hope.”
    Elise spoke in chilly tones. “Yes, thank you. Very pleasant.” She made to move on, but Warmsby was still in the act of bowing over Fanny’s hand.
    “Darling,” the duchess said. “We must find Violet. She has come up from Devonshire and I have scarcely seen anything of her.”
    “Are you speaking of Lady Violet, married to the vicar of Cleaverings?”
    “Yes,” Elise replied. “She is my dearest friend.”
    “I will take you to her,” he said, drawing Fanny’s arm through his own. “I know just where to find her.”
    He strode into the crowd, using his broad shoulders to make their way through the squeeze. Eventually, they came upon Violet, who was talking to a woman Fanny recognized as Caroline, the Duchess of Beverley, another close friend of Elise’s. Caro was a playwright, but she and the duke dwelt most of the year in Cornwall, so Fanny seldom saw her. She admired Caro tremendously. She and her husband were the founding patrons of an orphanage for the sons of soldiers killed in battle. The orphans acted in the Gothic plays the duchess wrote for them.
    “You do surround yourself with all the best do-gooders in the kingdom, Miss Edwards,” Warmsby said. “Do you not find it a dreadful bore?” His eyes were not bored. They were intense as he looked into Fanny’s.
    Fortunately, Elise had not heard the remark. “I consider my sister and her friends the least boring people I know,” Fanny said. “Have you done any good in the world today?”
    Warmsby threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Me? I have enriched several of my peers at the gambling table. I am looking now for someone to impart charity unto me. Shall it be you, Miss Edwards?”
    Raising an eyebrow, she said, “I do not wish to play cards with you. I would best you for certain, and then you would be in even worse straits. It is common knowledge that you are pockets to let.”
    A speculative gleam glowed in his eyes. “There are other things you could do for me. A walk on the terrace, for instance? It is dreadfully close in here.”
    She knew better than to go for a walk on the terrace with Warmsby. He would have her compromised before she knew what was happening.
    Fortunately, Viscount Westringham joined them at that moment. “Ah, Miss Edwards, Warmsby.” He took her hand and kissed her gloved knuckles. “How sorry I am that there is not to be dancing tonight.”
    “No,” said Fanny. “These events are designed to exercise our skills at witty repartee.” She smiled at the viscount.
    “We were just adjourning to the terrace. If you will excuse us, Westringham.” The earl’s tone was frosty.
    “I would rather remain here, your lordship. I have no desire to walk on the terrace with you. Too many women have been ruined that way.”
    The earl’s eyes snapped, and he was