stabbing with a knife, still grinning.
“I did nothing to him.” Louisa gave Samuel a hard look. “I had hoped my closest friends would believe me.”
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Samuel asked. “No chap is going to risk being at your side tonight, Louisa darling. He’ll always worry about taking a sip of his tea, or his claret, or his port, or his brandy, or his—”
“What the devil is this?” a new voice said.
Louisa started, and looked around to see the Honorable Gilbert Franklin, who’d stopped in time to hear the last comments. Gilbert was one of Louisa’s oldest friends—they’d lived next door to each other as children, and Louisa had been maid of honor to Gil’s sister last summer. She hadn’t seen much of either of them since, until Gil had turned up at Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ now-infamous garden party.
Gilbert cast a disparaging gaze over the little group. “Are you telling me, Sam, that after all these years, you still have no idea how to behave to a lady? I believe that in this glorious England, we think a person innocent of a crime until proven otherwise, do we not? Doesn’t Louisa deserve that same faith? Or at the very least, your respect?” Gil spoke in pleasant tones, as he always did, but his look was sharp, his words direct.
Samuel had the grace to be abashed. Gilbert was well liked, and now the others looked embarrassed, no longer laughing.
“How are you, Louisa?” Gil stuck out his hand and squeezed Louisa’s when she put hers into his. “I’m happy to see you tonight. I know you have been painfully upset, and I’ll wager none of these louts have decided to rally ’round and make you feel better.”
Adele bridled. “
Really
, Gil.”
“Yes,
really
, Del,” Gil said. “I never thought you so heartless. Louisa, I believe the first set is forming in the ballroom. Will you do me the honor? And if your dance card has remained empty tonight, I will happily fill it.”
The others had gone deathly silent. Gil’s strong fingers remained around Louisa’s hand.
Louisa’s heart pounded. Every part of her had been wanting to flee back across Mayfair to the sanctuary of Isabella’s house, where she could go up to the nursery and make herself feel better sitting with the children. Being around Isabella’s children always comforted her, and
they
did not believe her a murderess.
Now Gil’s wash of sympathy nearly undid her. He was handing Louisa a lifeline, coming to her rescue. Refusing him and running would be as churlish as Adele and her friends were being to Louisa. The Hon. Gil was well liked, well-bred, well-dressed, attractive, wealthy, and intelligent. His stamp of approval could save her life.
Louisa smiled at him in true gratitude. “Of course. I would indeed love to dance. Excuse me, my friends. I hope you enjoy Isabella’s entertainments.”
She wouldn’t cut them dead, much as she longed to. She would not be as petty as they were being. She bowed graciously to the collective group, who had to return the bow or be forever branded as uncouth.
Gil led Louisa away, keeping such a quick pace she didn’t have time to say anything to him until they stood in line for the opening dance, an old-fashioned country dance. Waltzing would take up the rest of the night—with pauses for Scottish reels, since this was a Mackenzie party after all—but Isabella always opened her balls with country dances.
Gil knew these dances as well as he knew everything else. Gil had always been there, in the background of Louisa’s life, she now realized. He’d been brother to her dear friend, playing with the two girls as children, teaching them cricket in their adolescence, escorting them to parties after their come outs, quietly shrugging off their praise about his academic honors at university. Gil was the perfect gentleman, so perfect one didn’t always notice him, because he did his best to efface himself and not push in front of others.
On the other hand, everyone in
“I did nothing to him.” Louisa gave Samuel a hard look. “I had hoped my closest friends would believe me.”
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Samuel asked. “No chap is going to risk being at your side tonight, Louisa darling. He’ll always worry about taking a sip of his tea, or his claret, or his port, or his brandy, or his—”
“What the devil is this?” a new voice said.
Louisa started, and looked around to see the Honorable Gilbert Franklin, who’d stopped in time to hear the last comments. Gilbert was one of Louisa’s oldest friends—they’d lived next door to each other as children, and Louisa had been maid of honor to Gil’s sister last summer. She hadn’t seen much of either of them since, until Gil had turned up at Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ now-infamous garden party.
Gilbert cast a disparaging gaze over the little group. “Are you telling me, Sam, that after all these years, you still have no idea how to behave to a lady? I believe that in this glorious England, we think a person innocent of a crime until proven otherwise, do we not? Doesn’t Louisa deserve that same faith? Or at the very least, your respect?” Gil spoke in pleasant tones, as he always did, but his look was sharp, his words direct.
Samuel had the grace to be abashed. Gilbert was well liked, and now the others looked embarrassed, no longer laughing.
“How are you, Louisa?” Gil stuck out his hand and squeezed Louisa’s when she put hers into his. “I’m happy to see you tonight. I know you have been painfully upset, and I’ll wager none of these louts have decided to rally ’round and make you feel better.”
Adele bridled. “
Really
, Gil.”
“Yes,
really
, Del,” Gil said. “I never thought you so heartless. Louisa, I believe the first set is forming in the ballroom. Will you do me the honor? And if your dance card has remained empty tonight, I will happily fill it.”
The others had gone deathly silent. Gil’s strong fingers remained around Louisa’s hand.
Louisa’s heart pounded. Every part of her had been wanting to flee back across Mayfair to the sanctuary of Isabella’s house, where she could go up to the nursery and make herself feel better sitting with the children. Being around Isabella’s children always comforted her, and
they
did not believe her a murderess.
Now Gil’s wash of sympathy nearly undid her. He was handing Louisa a lifeline, coming to her rescue. Refusing him and running would be as churlish as Adele and her friends were being to Louisa. The Hon. Gil was well liked, well-bred, well-dressed, attractive, wealthy, and intelligent. His stamp of approval could save her life.
Louisa smiled at him in true gratitude. “Of course. I would indeed love to dance. Excuse me, my friends. I hope you enjoy Isabella’s entertainments.”
She wouldn’t cut them dead, much as she longed to. She would not be as petty as they were being. She bowed graciously to the collective group, who had to return the bow or be forever branded as uncouth.
Gil led Louisa away, keeping such a quick pace she didn’t have time to say anything to him until they stood in line for the opening dance, an old-fashioned country dance. Waltzing would take up the rest of the night—with pauses for Scottish reels, since this was a Mackenzie party after all—but Isabella always opened her balls with country dances.
Gil knew these dances as well as he knew everything else. Gil had always been there, in the background of Louisa’s life, she now realized. He’d been brother to her dear friend, playing with the two girls as children, teaching them cricket in their adolescence, escorting them to parties after their come outs, quietly shrugging off their praise about his academic honors at university. Gil was the perfect gentleman, so perfect one didn’t always notice him, because he did his best to efface himself and not push in front of others.
On the other hand, everyone in
Similar Books
