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Billingsley's chin quivered in self-righteous indignation.
"Even now there have been bets laid as to whether she will quarrel with
Rotham tonight!"
"Have there?" Jack's coolly amused voice came from behind Claire.
"Which way did you bet, Lady Billing- sley?"
Her face turned a peculiar red and her mouth fell open. Then she
snapped it shut.
"I never place bets."
The smile on his face made Claire shiver.
"Very wise of you." Lady Billingsley stared at him, anger in her eyes.
Then she seemed to fold up and, in hurry dignity, departed.
"Oh, dear," Jane said. She looked at Jack.
"I am so sorry. She should not have been repeating such malicious
gossip."
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"It is hardly your fault."
"Perhaps not, but..." Jane still looked mortified. She tried to
smile.
"I suppose you wish to ask Claire to stand up with you?"
"With your permission."
"Of course you have it."
Claire flushed, taken aback by Jane's warmth of manner towards Jack.
It was almost as if Jane was promoting him as a possible suitor. But
that was impossible--Jane knew Edward detested Jack and surely she
could not think Claire would ever want him! Not that Jack was the
least interested in Claire.
"Claire, will you honour me with a dance?"
She stared at him, her mind blank.
"A dance?"
"Yes, a dance." His mouth quirked.
"The peculiar set of movements performed in time to music. I believe
we attempted the exercise at my grandmother's ball."
"I do know what a dance is, my lord. I... I was merely surprised you
asked me."
"Why? The conversation seems to have been leading up to this point."
His voice was impatient. As usual. He undoubtedly felt forced into
asking her by Jane. And was still trying to save her reputation. "Tis
very kind of you to ask, but I really do not care to dance." To her
surprise a tinge of colour crept into his cheeks. Almost as if she'd
slapped him.
"Don't you? Then I won't trouble you again."
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"I ... I only meant I don't care to dance now. Country dances are so
lively. I still feel a little bruised from my fall. Perhaps a
minuet;
they are more sedate. " She was babbling, trying to erase her rude
words, erase the stab of hurt she'd glimpsed on his face. His
expression was blank.
"Very well. The next minuet, then." He bowed.
"If you will pardon me, I have another obligation." Jane waited until
his tall figure was out of earshot before she spoke.
"Claire! How could you speak to him in such a manner? After he was so
gracious about Aunt's rude words! I never thought you could be so
unfeeling!"
"It was only I thought he felt obligated... I am sorry."
"I should hope so." Jane looked at her with an odd expression.
"Oh, Claire, I think he must still be in love with you!"
"He ... he is not. He never was!"
"I am certain of it. Why else would he defend you? And the way he
looked at you when he carried you home the other day!"
"Jane, please don't say such things," Claire begged. Jane's expression
was sympathetic.
"You mustn't be afraid, Claire."
"I am not afraid." But she felt a shiver, nonetheless. She would
never, ever want Jack or any man to be in love with her. To look at
her as an object of desire.
Harry returned with Thea. Her next partner soon claimed Thea, and
Jane's attention was diverted by Lady Bothwell, an acquaintance of
hers. Harry stood next to Claire as the country dances began.
"I see Rotham is partnering Miss Snowden," Harry remarked. Claire
quickly spotted Jack in one of the sets with Miss Snowden. She wore a
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gauze gown in a pale blue, which complemented her cool beauty. Her
blonde hair was pulled back in an elegant knot. They made a striking
couple, his darkness and her lightness, moving gracefully in time to
the music.
"She is Lady Rotham's ward?" Claire asked carefully.
"Yes, the daughter of Lady Rotham's bosom friend, according to the
gossip. Although I find it difficult to picture Lady Rotham with such
a friend," he said dryly.
"At any rate, Miss Snowden's mother was well-connected, but married
beneath her. When Mrs. Snowden died, Lady Rotham rescued the girl
from the vulgar clutches of her paternal relatives. No one quite knows
what happened to her father."
"That was very kind of Lady Rotham," Claire said, trying to be fair to
the older woman. Perhaps she did have some generous impulses.
Certainly, Lady Rotham seemed determined to provide her ward with all
the advantages she most likely had never known. And, watching Miss
Snowden gracefully move through the steps of the dance, no one would
ever suspect she had been born in less than noble circumstances.
"Perhaps." Harry looked down at Claire.
"I have heard
Lady Rotham hopes Miss Snowden will become the next Lady Rotham. "
"Oh." Claire felt stunned for a moment, then recovered.
"She would certainly make a... a lovely countess," she said with as
much indifference as possible.
"Albeit a rather icy one. It may be she would melt in the right man's
arms. However, I'd not wager a fortune on it."
"Harry!" Claire stared at him, shocked by his callous speculations on
Miss Snowden's sensual nature.
"She is only a girl."
"She is on the marriage market." His brow inched up a fraction at her
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expression.
"My innocent, you surely must know that is on the mind of most of the
gentlemen present who might consider Miss Snowden as a future wife.
And probably those who don't. "
"I suppose. I really don't know." Her face must be crimson by now.
Harry had a proclivity for blunt speaking, but usually not about such
matters. Worse, into her mind popped a vivid image of Miss Snowden in
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