Page 1 of A Foolish Flirtation

1

Bath

The elegant carriage came to a halt outside number ten, and Jeremy Vance, fifth Viscount Faris, leaned out of the window to look expectantly at his footman.

“Not dignifying them with your presence today, then?” Colfax asked from his perch.

“God no. There’s only so much of the Arbuthnots I can take in one calendar month,” Jeremy replied dryly. “Kindly retrieve my heir.”

“They’ll be disappointed,” Colfax commented sotto voce as he climbed down. Let them, thought Jeremy callously. He did not care for the Arbuthnots and intended to do everything in his power to sway his son’s partiality for their society as soon as possible.

He watched Colfax ascend the steps to ring the bell, but the door was whisked open before his fingers had closed around the pull cord. Judging by the way the housemaid blushed and giggled, Jeremy didn’t think everyone was disappointed by his nonappearance.

Observing the twitch of the parlor curtains, Jeremy looked away. He knew his son considered Arthur Arbuthnot the best of his old school friends, but he found he could not abide another meeting with the boy’s mother, not even for Teddy’s sake. He was sure it was her elaborately ringleted head he’d caught a glimpse of at the window. Ghastly woman.

Mercifully, Teddy did not take long to emerge this time. Was it too much to hope that Arthur Arbuthnot’s charm might have waned somewhat in his fickle affections? Jeremy scanned his son’s face as he made his way down the steps toward him. As he did so, his heart sank a little. Nine-year-old Teddy had a speculative look on his deceptively angelic face. Oh God, what was he after now?

Jeremy threw open the door as Colfax made his way unhurriedly back down the steps.

“Good evening, Papa” Teddy caroled as he climbed into the carriage.

“Did you have a pleasant afternoon?” Jeremy enquired politely.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied promptly.

“What was it this time?” he asked. “A Punch and Judy show? A new puppy?”

Teddy shook his head as he settled onto the seat opposite his father. “No, for Arthur’s mother wanted us to sit quietly with her today. She said Arthur must remember that I am convalescing,” he said, “and must not expect me to play nasty boys’ games.”

Jeremy shot him a surprised look. “I was not aware that you and Arthur had been indulging in any rough and tumble,” he said, revising his opinion of staid, bespectacled Arthur.

“Oh, we haven’t,” Teddy said blithely, “but Arthur has a new cricket set and asked if Simpson could take us to the park with it. His mama said no, and that he must bring down some books for me and his train set instead.”

Jeremy eyed his son with some puzzlement as Colfax climbed atop the carriage. Teddy had an air of suppressed excitement about him that a staid afternoon in the Arbuthnots’ parlor did not account for. Knowing his son’s frequently and strongly expressed feelings about occupying himself quietly with books, he could not imagine that Mrs. Arbuthnot’s suggestion was met with any enthusiasm by Teddy.

Reaching up, Jeremy rapped the roof to signify they should drive off. “Well, I imagine you were both disappointed,” he ventured as the carriage lurched into action, “but perhaps it was for the best. Dr. Reid did say no physical exertion for at least six weeks.”

Teddy, who had been complaining nonstop about intolerable boredom for the past month, nodded philosophically. “And if we had not remained indoors, then I should never have heard about Miss Ballentine, would I, Papa?”

“Of whom?” Jeremy was startled by the air of import that Teddy attached to the name. Startled, also, by the blast of associated emotion with that same name. Surely, surely he did not say what Jeremy thought he had said.

His son gazed back at him with disapproval. “Miss Ballentine,” he repeated sternly. When Jeremy continued speechless, Teddy rolled his eyes. “Arthur’s mother told me all about her. They came out in the same season, but Miss Ballentine’s father was ‘an awful cit.’ What’s an awful cit, Papa?”

Jeremy considered this as his thoughts raced. “A cit, my boy, is someone who makes his money in the city. A self-made man of business, usually. A most entrepreneurial and resourceful fellow. Certainly nothing to be ashamed of, as Mrs. Arbuthnot seems to have given you the impression.”

“Oh.” Teddy appeared to digest this. Then he turned a forbidding glower upon his father. “Arthur’s mama,” he said severely, “said Miss Ballentine used to turn very red when you came to parties, and you used to make everyone laugh by dancing with her.”

Jeremy paused. “I used to do what?” he asked, turning cold. Feigning deafness to stall for time seemed the best course of action. Why in hell would the Arbuthnot woman think it was appropriate to relay such tales to his own son?

“Arthur’s mother said you used to wink at your friends after you asked her to dance, and they all used to laugh up their sleeves at her.”

Damn the woman. Jeremy straightened up in his seat. “I’m afraid Mrs. Arbuthnot is laboring under a misapprehension,” he said firmly. “If I asked this Miss—?” He bent a quizzical look on Teddy, as though he had forgotten her name.

“Ballentine,” he supplied helpfully.

“Miss Ballentine to dance with me,” Jeremy continued smoothly, “then it would have been because I wished to dance with her. If I winked to my friends, it must have been because I was feeling particularly proud of myself.”

Teddy’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “So…you weren’t making fun of her, then?” he asked, his blue eyes very intent.