Read Online Season for Scandal by Theresa Romain - Free Book Online
Authors: Theresa Romain
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stern-jawed host, she gave a careful nod to each. “Earl. Countess. How do you do?” To the angle and inch, it was a perfect copy of the greeting performed by the woman before her.
Except. From Lord Alleyneham’s startled cough and his lady’s wide-eyed flutter, she realized she had blundered.
Sweeping into a hurried bow, Kirkpatrick herded her on, his pressure at her elbow sudden and determined. A butler announced them to the room at large, and with more force than grace, they strode into the crowd, as though Kirkpatrick wanted to get them lost in the mill of guests.
When someone jostled Jane and a heavy boot ground down on her toes, she stopped walking. Kirkpatrick gave another tug at her arm; she tugged right back.
“Stop,” she said through gritted teeth. She glanced around and spotted an alcove at the side of the soaring candlelit room. It was currently occupied by a potted palm.
Jane gave the palm a bit of company. Kirkpatrick followed, looking a bit hunted. “What’s the problem, Jane? Don’t you want to join the dancers?”
I would if I knew how to dance. But Lord Xavier’s impoverished country cousin had never learned such social graces. “Not just yet. Out with it, Kirkpatrick. What did I do wrong?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He became fascinated with the fronds of the palm.
“In the receiving line. I did something that horrified our host and hostess. What was it?”
His eyes found Jane’s. “Ah. Well, nothing much. You gave a marchioness’s greeting to a countess. The nod of a superior. But—well, Lord and Lady Alleyneham are good sorts. They won’t mind it.”
“They certainly looked as if they minded it.”
“Mere surprise, that’s all. Can I fetch you some punch?” He smiled, but Jane was not to be led astray.
“I didn’t know,” she muttered. “I should have curtsied, shouldn’t I?”
It was a far simpler matter to ape her social superiors on the fringes of the ton , in places like Sheringbrook’s card room, than in the heart of the polite world. And her cousin Xavier’s country house party, which she had attended in past years, was a much different affair from a formal London ball.
In itself, this was neither good nor bad. It simply was . But not being ready for the new and next? Not even recognizing the boundaries of her own ignorance? That was bad indeed, and she thought she saw bright pity limning her husband’s smile.
“I don’t need any punch,” she decided. “Only find me another baroness in this crowd, Kirkpatrick, and I’ll copy her. I’ll make certain I get everything right next time.”
“That’s what you want to do at a ball? You want to follow a perfect stranger around and mimic her?”
He made the behavior sound so odd. “Well, I won’t let her know. She won’t even see me. I can be unobtrusive when I wish. See?”
When she took a step back, her gown of dark green silk blended into the palm’s fronds. Her ivory fan, snapped closed and held tight, was no more than a stick. And her hair could be anything, because on its own it was nothing. The dull shade of wood paneling or a dead frond.
Kirkpatrick’s eyes lit with humor. “Are you considering the fact that if anyone sees you in there, you will have to make a swift explanation? I would dearly love to hear it.”
Jane shrugged. “I’ll say I dropped my fan and someone kicked it aside. I was retrieving it. Honestly, Kirkpatrick, do you think anyone is more interested in my doings than his or her own?”
He folded his arms. “This ball is our outing together. Something for you to enjoy.”
“I realize that. But what I would really enjoy is not making another blunder.”
He looked down at her for a long moment. Despite knowing him for most of her life, she couldn’t read him as easily as she could most people. He was so carefully polite that it was impossible to tell what was flickering through his mind. Was he ashamed of her? Disappointed not to spend the whole evening
Except. From Lord Alleyneham’s startled cough and his lady’s wide-eyed flutter, she realized she had blundered.
Sweeping into a hurried bow, Kirkpatrick herded her on, his pressure at her elbow sudden and determined. A butler announced them to the room at large, and with more force than grace, they strode into the crowd, as though Kirkpatrick wanted to get them lost in the mill of guests.
When someone jostled Jane and a heavy boot ground down on her toes, she stopped walking. Kirkpatrick gave another tug at her arm; she tugged right back.
“Stop,” she said through gritted teeth. She glanced around and spotted an alcove at the side of the soaring candlelit room. It was currently occupied by a potted palm.
Jane gave the palm a bit of company. Kirkpatrick followed, looking a bit hunted. “What’s the problem, Jane? Don’t you want to join the dancers?”
I would if I knew how to dance. But Lord Xavier’s impoverished country cousin had never learned such social graces. “Not just yet. Out with it, Kirkpatrick. What did I do wrong?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He became fascinated with the fronds of the palm.
“In the receiving line. I did something that horrified our host and hostess. What was it?”
His eyes found Jane’s. “Ah. Well, nothing much. You gave a marchioness’s greeting to a countess. The nod of a superior. But—well, Lord and Lady Alleyneham are good sorts. They won’t mind it.”
“They certainly looked as if they minded it.”
“Mere surprise, that’s all. Can I fetch you some punch?” He smiled, but Jane was not to be led astray.
“I didn’t know,” she muttered. “I should have curtsied, shouldn’t I?”
It was a far simpler matter to ape her social superiors on the fringes of the ton , in places like Sheringbrook’s card room, than in the heart of the polite world. And her cousin Xavier’s country house party, which she had attended in past years, was a much different affair from a formal London ball.
In itself, this was neither good nor bad. It simply was . But not being ready for the new and next? Not even recognizing the boundaries of her own ignorance? That was bad indeed, and she thought she saw bright pity limning her husband’s smile.
“I don’t need any punch,” she decided. “Only find me another baroness in this crowd, Kirkpatrick, and I’ll copy her. I’ll make certain I get everything right next time.”
“That’s what you want to do at a ball? You want to follow a perfect stranger around and mimic her?”
He made the behavior sound so odd. “Well, I won’t let her know. She won’t even see me. I can be unobtrusive when I wish. See?”
When she took a step back, her gown of dark green silk blended into the palm’s fronds. Her ivory fan, snapped closed and held tight, was no more than a stick. And her hair could be anything, because on its own it was nothing. The dull shade of wood paneling or a dead frond.
Kirkpatrick’s eyes lit with humor. “Are you considering the fact that if anyone sees you in there, you will have to make a swift explanation? I would dearly love to hear it.”
Jane shrugged. “I’ll say I dropped my fan and someone kicked it aside. I was retrieving it. Honestly, Kirkpatrick, do you think anyone is more interested in my doings than his or her own?”
He folded his arms. “This ball is our outing together. Something for you to enjoy.”
“I realize that. But what I would really enjoy is not making another blunder.”
He looked down at her for a long moment. Despite knowing him for most of her life, she couldn’t read him as easily as she could most people. He was so carefully polite that it was impossible to tell what was flickering through his mind. Was he ashamed of her? Disappointed not to spend the whole evening
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