knocked into Lord Pemberly, who in turn tottered several steps out of the range of the dancers and into the oncoming path of a servant: a waiter bearing a very large, very full, crystal punch bowl.
Olivia opened her mouth to cry a warning but could not seem to do more man stare in speechless horror. Pemberlv sprawled in the path of the waiter, who men tripped headlong over the stout aristocrat splashing—no. flinging—every drop of punch in the bowl on which he still maintained a grip, over the closest innocent figure. And in a moment Cecily White stood dripping a champagne and fruit concoction.
"My goodness." Olivia murmured, more to herself man anyone else. "How will the child handle this?" She hurried to the scene of the disaster.
A sticky pool puddled at Cecily's feet. Her gown, obviously a Worth creation, was ruined. Her hair was a shambles, her evening destroyed. Olivia reached the girl and the crowd forming about her in time to hear the hapless servant stammering abject apologies.
Cecily's eyes snapped, but her demeanor remained calm, serene, even gracious. "It's quite all right. A simple accident, nothing more." She mustered a sincere smile and directed it at the panicked waiter. "Really, I shall dry." She cast a regretful look at the ruined dress. "Eventually."
Olivia would have destroyed with a single glance anyone who even suggested she had a democratic bone in her body. And whether you chose to call it democracy or simply the responsibility of the upper classes to set an example. Olivia never could abide anyone who dressed down servants in public.
On the mental list she carried in her head for the purpose of evaluating potential brides for her son, she placed a tiny check next to the lines marked grace and deportment. This child obviously knew how to carry herself in public. She was a young lady whose behavior one certainly would not have to worry about.
"Lady Millicent," Cecily said, apparently struggling to avoid any expression of discomfort. "If you could manage to find my parents, I should like to leave now." She shrugged ruefully. "I'm beginning to get a bit chilled."
"Miss White ..." Jared said quickly.
Cecily turned eyes wide with disbelief toward him. "Do you wish to say anything further, your ... lordship? This is perhaps not an appropriate moment."
Jared appeared to be conducting his own battle at stilling amusement. What on earth was the matter with the man? If he laughed at the girl she would never forgive him, and with good reason. Olivia would have to have a long chat with her son on public behavior, although she'd never noticed conduct like this before.
Jared's eyes twinkled. "I simply wished to ask if I might call on you?"
Cecily's composure remained unruffled, but the muscle around her jaw seemed to tense, as if she clenched her teeth. "I don't think that would—"
"Of course you may call on her. your lordship," the girl's younger sister said. What was her name? Oh, yes, Emily. She appeared nearly as well behaved as her sister.
"Em..." Cecily said under her breath.
"I think that's an excellent idea," Millicent chimed in. "Cecily and her family are staying at my home while they are here in London, Jared, you know you are welcome any time."
"I was counting on that, Lady Millicent." He lifted Millicent's hand to his lips and dropped a charming kiss there. Millicent actually seemed to blush at the attention. He turned to Cecily and reached to take her hand, then abruptly drew back, as if he thought better of the action. "I do hope you suffer no ill effects from this drenching, Miss White. Although I daresay one gets used to being soaked, don't you think?"
"I shudder at the thought, your ... lordship." Was that a note of sarcasm in the girl's voice? Was she referring to something other than this punch fiasco? Surely not. The young people had just met. They'd not spent nearly enough time together for their words to have hidden meanings.
Cecily nodded sharply and, accompanied by her
Olivia opened her mouth to cry a warning but could not seem to do more man stare in speechless horror. Pemberlv sprawled in the path of the waiter, who men tripped headlong over the stout aristocrat splashing—no. flinging—every drop of punch in the bowl on which he still maintained a grip, over the closest innocent figure. And in a moment Cecily White stood dripping a champagne and fruit concoction.
"My goodness." Olivia murmured, more to herself man anyone else. "How will the child handle this?" She hurried to the scene of the disaster.
A sticky pool puddled at Cecily's feet. Her gown, obviously a Worth creation, was ruined. Her hair was a shambles, her evening destroyed. Olivia reached the girl and the crowd forming about her in time to hear the hapless servant stammering abject apologies.
Cecily's eyes snapped, but her demeanor remained calm, serene, even gracious. "It's quite all right. A simple accident, nothing more." She mustered a sincere smile and directed it at the panicked waiter. "Really, I shall dry." She cast a regretful look at the ruined dress. "Eventually."
Olivia would have destroyed with a single glance anyone who even suggested she had a democratic bone in her body. And whether you chose to call it democracy or simply the responsibility of the upper classes to set an example. Olivia never could abide anyone who dressed down servants in public.
On the mental list she carried in her head for the purpose of evaluating potential brides for her son, she placed a tiny check next to the lines marked grace and deportment. This child obviously knew how to carry herself in public. She was a young lady whose behavior one certainly would not have to worry about.
"Lady Millicent," Cecily said, apparently struggling to avoid any expression of discomfort. "If you could manage to find my parents, I should like to leave now." She shrugged ruefully. "I'm beginning to get a bit chilled."
"Miss White ..." Jared said quickly.
Cecily turned eyes wide with disbelief toward him. "Do you wish to say anything further, your ... lordship? This is perhaps not an appropriate moment."
Jared appeared to be conducting his own battle at stilling amusement. What on earth was the matter with the man? If he laughed at the girl she would never forgive him, and with good reason. Olivia would have to have a long chat with her son on public behavior, although she'd never noticed conduct like this before.
Jared's eyes twinkled. "I simply wished to ask if I might call on you?"
Cecily's composure remained unruffled, but the muscle around her jaw seemed to tense, as if she clenched her teeth. "I don't think that would—"
"Of course you may call on her. your lordship," the girl's younger sister said. What was her name? Oh, yes, Emily. She appeared nearly as well behaved as her sister.
"Em..." Cecily said under her breath.
"I think that's an excellent idea," Millicent chimed in. "Cecily and her family are staying at my home while they are here in London, Jared, you know you are welcome any time."
"I was counting on that, Lady Millicent." He lifted Millicent's hand to his lips and dropped a charming kiss there. Millicent actually seemed to blush at the attention. He turned to Cecily and reached to take her hand, then abruptly drew back, as if he thought better of the action. "I do hope you suffer no ill effects from this drenching, Miss White. Although I daresay one gets used to being soaked, don't you think?"
"I shudder at the thought, your ... lordship." Was that a note of sarcasm in the girl's voice? Was she referring to something other than this punch fiasco? Surely not. The young people had just met. They'd not spent nearly enough time together for their words to have hidden meanings.
Cecily nodded sharply and, accompanied by her
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