Page 5 of Courting Miss Lancaster
“Let us discuss more pleasant topics,” Mr. Windover said, smiling as always. He had a very reassuring smile. “How have you enjoyed your very first ball?”
Mortified, Athena felt tears prick at her eyes the instant his question was uttered. How had she enjoyed her first ball? Not atall.
“Tears, Miss Lancaster?” Mr. Windover’s voice lowered to the quietest of whispers. “That will never do.”
“I am sorry,” Athena whispered in reply, trying valiantly to keep herself in check.
“If you will pretend an exorbitant degree of interest in the contents of your plate,” Mr. Windover suggested, “I shall endeavor to appear entirely at my ease. Then, you see, the other guests will think nothing untoward has occurred, and you may recover your poise with no one the wiser.”
Athena immediately lowered her eyes to her plate, keeping her head bowed enough to hide the sudden sheen of tears evident on her lashes. A young lady did not cry at a ball. Nor did she cry over supper at a ball. A few moments of silence passed while Athena worked to rein in her emotions.
“Has someone upset you?” Mr. Windover asked, his voice still low.
“No,” Athena answered, grateful for the concern she heard in his voice.
“Are you disappointed in the ball?” he ventured. “Or perhaps simply in your partners?”
That nearly undid her. “I h-haven’t had any,” she whispered, hearing the break in her voice.
“You haven’t had any? Any partners?”
Athena glanced up. Mr. Windover’s eyes were on her, a look of empathy on his face. “Except for Adam, when we first arrived. And then you. There were a few times I thought a gentleman was going to approach, but, except for you, they all, without fail, did not. One even spun around and fled.” She took a shaky breath. “I am not sure what is so wrong with me that... that...”
“Miss Lancaster.” Mr. Windover smiled kindly. “Do you truly believe these gentlemen did not approach you because of something they found lacking in you?”
“What other reason could there be?”
Harry shook his head, as if amused in spite of himself. “There is a rather glaringly obvious reason.”
Athena furrowed her brow, confused. She couldn’t think of anything beyond some monumental failing in herself that she had not discovered yet.
“I believe your lack of partners had everything to do with the fact that the Duke of Kielder was standing at your shoulder with his hand resting rather ominously on the hilt of his dress sword. I am certain many of the gentlemen in attendance were rather afraid that the infamous duke would borrow a page from not-too-distant French history and behead the aristocracy should they disgruntle him in any way.”
“He scared them off,” Athena surmised.
“Precisely.”
It was a far more welcome possibility than the reasoning she had previously applied to the situation. Adam had frightened away her prospective partners. There might be hope for her yet. Except, she immediately amended, Adam was her guardian. Any gentleman who wished to solicit her hand for a dance would have to be willing to approach even with him hovering nearby.
“That does not bode well, does it?” Athena sighed, setting her fork beside her plate, her appetite having fled entirely.
“Never fear. Adam is not likely to attend many more social functions. Persephone is far less intimidating.”
“She has been rather absent this evening,” Athena observed. She hadn’t seen her sister more than a half-dozen times since their arrival, though she was certain Persephone had had no more partners than Athena herself had.
“I have seen her mingling,” Mr. Windover said. “She is setting the foundation of your success, Miss Lancaster. Through her conversations this evening, you will receive invitations to all those events that are necessary for you to make a splashin society. I do not doubt she was taking advantage of Adam’s presence to do so. On those evenings when he is not in attendance, she will be required to remain at your side, being your faithful chaperone.”
“I don’t think Persephone likes to be out without her husband,” Athena said. “She is inordinately fond of him.”
“Incomprehensible, isn’t it?” Mr. Windover smiled. “Who would ever guess that Adam could be any lady’s idea of an ideal husband?”
“He certainly is not mine,” Athena admitted before the incivility of her unguarded confession caused her to clamp her mouth shut and close her eyes against the flush of embarrassment staining her cheeks.
“And what, pray tell, is your idea of an ideal husband?” Mr. Windover asked. His words sounded oddly choked, no doubt the result of his shock at her indelicate words. “What sort of gentleman are you looking to capture?”
Athena thought about his question and realized, to her surprise, she wasn’t entirely sure. The imaginary knight on a white charger of her girlish dreams had only two concrete characteristics: he was inordinately wealthy and deeply in love with her. The former was no longer necessary. The latter was far too personal a wish to voice out loud. “I do not truly know,” she said.
“If you do not know for whom you are looking, how do you expect to find him?”
