dragging,” he replied dampingly.
“More likely the widow. The on dit is that she has switched her attack from Tony to Morton. Well, she was aiming a little high to try for a title.”
“Do you think so, Beatrice? I think she might aim as high as she likes,” he answered blightingly and took her pudgy arm to lead her to the floor.
Morton was not far behind them, accompanied by Mrs. Percy. Tony turned to a group of chattering young ladies just returned from the seminary and spotted a Miss Evans with limpid blue eyes and blond curls. The girl had improved vastly over the past ten months, and he honored her with his arm. As soon as the set was over, he was after Lucy.
She was happy to stand up with him, but when he continued pestering her at the set’s end, she looked about for help. The only three gentlemen with whom she was acquainted were Morton, Tony, and Avedon. The locals hung back, as she had acquired a vicarious air of nobility due to her company. Across the hall Avedon noticed her problem and used it as an excuse to approach her.
“Is the whelp bothering you?” he asked ungraciously, when he saw Tony’s downcast expression. Tony turned and stalked off in a huff.
Lucy felt an excited churning in her breast and readied herself for verbal battle. “How can you say so, milord? You must know it is always I who bother Bigelow,” she replied pertly.
Avedon was unaware that he was smiling. It softened the harshness of his features and even lent him an air of flirtation. “Now you are bothering Morton, so we have forgiven you,” he said, and took her hand. He had forgotten to ask her if she would stand up with him.
“You have decided Morton is expendable, have you?” she asked.
“Not entirely, but at his age he is capable of defending himself.” He put a proprietary hand on her elbow and began walking onto the floor.
Lucy decided Avedon was being just a trifle high in the instep and decided to roast him. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“I thought you would like to dance,” he said. No fear of possible refusal disturbed his thoughts. He was Lord Avedon. In the entire course of his life, no lady had ever refused his attentions.
“You have misread my likes before, Lord Avedon.” He stopped and looked a question at her. “If you had bothered to ask me, I could have saved you the embarrassment of leaving you stranded alone in the middle of the floor,” she said, and removed her hand from his arm.
“But why did you come if you don’t want to dance?”
“I do want to dance, but a lady has the prerogative of declining any partner who does not please her,” she said demurely.
He saw the mischief glinting in her smile. “Would it please you if I humbly requested the pleasure of standing up with you, Mrs. Percy?”
“The ‘humbly’ pleases me,” she bantered. “Even if you don’t mean it. Since I know so few gentlemen here this evening, it is either dancing with you or warming a chair by the wall.”
He bowed with mock seriousness. “I am flattered that you prefer my company to that of a block of wood. Has your road been repaired satisfactorily? I told my steward to see to it.”
“Yes, and it is a great pity that no tiles were laid, after such a deal of trouble.”
“It was no trouble.”
“It was for me,” she objected. “Had you ever any intention of laying tiles at all?”
“I mean to do it one day.”
His offhand answer was as good as an admission that he had only dug up the road to annoy her. “It was an underhanded trick, sir. I wonder that you thought to get rid of us by such a paltry device.”
“It was only the first step. I was going to pour salt in your well next, but my steward was afraid it would bleed back into my own water,” he admitted with no sign of shame.
“Well, upon my word!”
When he stopped and looked down at her, Lucy saw the laughter lurking in his eyes and didn’t know whether she was angry or amused. “I have apologized to Miss Percy
“More likely the widow. The on dit is that she has switched her attack from Tony to Morton. Well, she was aiming a little high to try for a title.”
“Do you think so, Beatrice? I think she might aim as high as she likes,” he answered blightingly and took her pudgy arm to lead her to the floor.
Morton was not far behind them, accompanied by Mrs. Percy. Tony turned to a group of chattering young ladies just returned from the seminary and spotted a Miss Evans with limpid blue eyes and blond curls. The girl had improved vastly over the past ten months, and he honored her with his arm. As soon as the set was over, he was after Lucy.
She was happy to stand up with him, but when he continued pestering her at the set’s end, she looked about for help. The only three gentlemen with whom she was acquainted were Morton, Tony, and Avedon. The locals hung back, as she had acquired a vicarious air of nobility due to her company. Across the hall Avedon noticed her problem and used it as an excuse to approach her.
“Is the whelp bothering you?” he asked ungraciously, when he saw Tony’s downcast expression. Tony turned and stalked off in a huff.
Lucy felt an excited churning in her breast and readied herself for verbal battle. “How can you say so, milord? You must know it is always I who bother Bigelow,” she replied pertly.
Avedon was unaware that he was smiling. It softened the harshness of his features and even lent him an air of flirtation. “Now you are bothering Morton, so we have forgiven you,” he said, and took her hand. He had forgotten to ask her if she would stand up with him.
“You have decided Morton is expendable, have you?” she asked.
“Not entirely, but at his age he is capable of defending himself.” He put a proprietary hand on her elbow and began walking onto the floor.
Lucy decided Avedon was being just a trifle high in the instep and decided to roast him. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“I thought you would like to dance,” he said. No fear of possible refusal disturbed his thoughts. He was Lord Avedon. In the entire course of his life, no lady had ever refused his attentions.
“You have misread my likes before, Lord Avedon.” He stopped and looked a question at her. “If you had bothered to ask me, I could have saved you the embarrassment of leaving you stranded alone in the middle of the floor,” she said, and removed her hand from his arm.
“But why did you come if you don’t want to dance?”
“I do want to dance, but a lady has the prerogative of declining any partner who does not please her,” she said demurely.
He saw the mischief glinting in her smile. “Would it please you if I humbly requested the pleasure of standing up with you, Mrs. Percy?”
“The ‘humbly’ pleases me,” she bantered. “Even if you don’t mean it. Since I know so few gentlemen here this evening, it is either dancing with you or warming a chair by the wall.”
He bowed with mock seriousness. “I am flattered that you prefer my company to that of a block of wood. Has your road been repaired satisfactorily? I told my steward to see to it.”
“Yes, and it is a great pity that no tiles were laid, after such a deal of trouble.”
“It was no trouble.”
“It was for me,” she objected. “Had you ever any intention of laying tiles at all?”
“I mean to do it one day.”
His offhand answer was as good as an admission that he had only dug up the road to annoy her. “It was an underhanded trick, sir. I wonder that you thought to get rid of us by such a paltry device.”
“It was only the first step. I was going to pour salt in your well next, but my steward was afraid it would bleed back into my own water,” he admitted with no sign of shame.
“Well, upon my word!”
When he stopped and looked down at her, Lucy saw the laughter lurking in his eyes and didn’t know whether she was angry or amused. “I have apologized to Miss Percy
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