The Courtship Dance by Candace Camp Page A

sense of humor and a wonderful laugh. And, of course, when he smiled, the room seemed tolight up. He was not one of those dreadfully boring sorts who was always grim.
    But he was so responsible, so dedicated to his duty, so careful and well-planned in everything he did. He was well-read, even scholarly, and his interests ranged over a wide variety of subjects. He corresponded with scientists and scholars in many different fields. She knew that he must consider her far too flighty and shallow, a woman interested only in clothes and hats and gossip. It was for that reason, when they had been engaged, that Francesca had feared he would one day grow tired of her or, worse yet, come to view her as an annoyance.
    Now he obviously did view her that way, since his infatuation with her was long gone. Still, she was surprised that his reaction had been so extreme. She wished that she had been smoother in her dealings with him and Althea, and she spent much of the day going over and over what she could have done differently.
    When Sir Alan arrived, she met him with cordiality, glad to turn her attention to someone else. Sir Alan smiled when she greeted him, and she saw again in his eyes a certain masculine appreciation. She would have to be careful in dealing with him, she thought; she certainly did not want to encourage any romantic inclinations.
    Francesca turned quickly to say hello to his daughter, then rang for tea and settled down for a chat, studying Harriet covertly as they talked.
    The girl was pretty enough, with nice brown eyes, a snub nose and thick brown hair. Her skin was toobrown; she obviously was not careful about wearing a hat in the country. But at least she was not spotty or freckled. She had a frank, open face and a friendly smile—not the cool, aristocratic look that was deemed correct by society mavens. But Francesca had never found that that particular look attracted a man, anyway.
    A different style for her hair would work wonders, as would a lesson in plucking her eyebrows. And her dress did not suit her at all. It was dowdy and prim—and Francesca had no difficulty in believing that Sir Alan’s mother had picked out the girl’s clothes.
    “Your father tells me that you are interested in making a bit of a splash this Season,” Francesca began in a friendly tone.
    Harriet grinned back at her. “Oh, I would not aim so high as a ‘splash,’ Lady Haughston. I think mere notice would be an improvement.”
    Francesca smiled, liking the girl’s forthright response. Of course, she would have to school some of that out of her if Harriet hoped to be a success. “I think we can do better than that—if we put our minds to it.”
    “I am willing,” Harriet replied. She cast a smile at her father as she went on. “I fear Papa has wasted his money so far. I would hate for it all to have been for naught.”
    “Now, Harry,” her father protested fondly. “You needn’t worry about things like that.”
    “I know you do not mind,” she responded. “But I despise waste in any form.”
    “Then you are, um, willing to be guided by me inthese matters?” Francesca inquired. There was nothing worse than a recalcitrant student.
    “I put myself entirely in your hands,” Miss Sherbourne assured her. “I know that I haven’t sufficient town bronze. I can tell that sometimes the things I say make people look at me askance. But I am a quick learner, and I’m willing to change in whatever way I have to—at least for the length of a Season.”
    “I think that a shopping expedition is the place to start,” Francesca said, with a quick glance at Harriet’s father. He nodded agreeably, and she continued. “I also think it would be a good idea, Sir Alan, if we put on some sort of party. We could invite some of the people whom I think would be helpful in getting your daughter noticed. Now, the other day, you mentioned that you would prefer that I—”
    “Oh, yes, Lady Haughston,” Sir Alan jumped in eagerly. “If