Leorah decided to give him the respectful curtsey his rank deserved, to show him she wasn’t completely without manners. Meanwhile, the pearls in Felicity’s hair trembled as she sank into a deep curtsy.
“I am honored to formally make your acquaintance, Lord Withinghall,” Leorah said, “though the viscount and I have spoken on two prior occasions, Mr. Colthurst.”
“I was unaware—” Mr. Colthurst began.
“I was unaware as well,” Lord Withinghall said in an imperious tone, “that this young lady was the sister of Mr. Nicholas Langdon, whom I respect as a sensible and forthright young man.”
The way he said “young lady” and “young man,” one would have thought Lord Withinghall was much older. In truth, he was probably very near her brother’s age, her brother being twenty-seven. The way he spoke down to her, as if she were young and foolish and therefore beneath him, was only another way he and the rest of “polite society” played their little hypocritical charade to project the sort of fa?ade they wished.
And if Lord Withinghall wished to be thought of as a curmudgeonly politician, he was doing a great job of perpetuating that image.
Lord Withinghall no doubt wished he had not initiated the acquaintance. But he could hardly escape it now. Just to annoy him, Leorah silently vowed to speak to him at every opportunity.
“If you wish to be acquainted with Nicholas Langdon’s sister, I am the only one you could possibly refer to, my lord.” She smiled and bobbed another tiny curtsey, enjoying the chagrin on his face. “My friend and I are most cognizant of the honor you bestow on us, I am sure.”
Of course, politeness now dictated that Lord Withinghall make a similar statement about the honor of making her acquaintance, but he stood unmoving and wordless, his lips pressed together in a thin line.
“Please excuse me,” Mr. Colthurst said, his cheeks still blushing red. “I see more guests arriving.”
“Of course.”
Mr. Colthurst took his leave of them, striding away.
Poor Felicity had turned three shades of red, but Leorah felt emboldened to take the imperious viscount down a bit by being perfectly forthright, the very characteristic he had praised her brother for.
“I don’t suppose you would have wanted to make my acquaintance if you had known I was the ‘reckless, heedless hoyden’ you lashed out at in the park a month ago, or the ‘affront to polite, demure young ladies’ you reprimanded a fortnight ago.”
“You took note of my words, I see. I might have hoped you would have reflected on them at length and allowed them to check your unbridled foolishness, but I see by your conversation with this young lady”—he nodded at Felicity—“that that has not been the case.”
Leorah’s blood rose, sending a flush of heat through her face and into her forehead. “Is insulting a gentleman’s daughter the fashion amongst viscounts, or simply some new political strategy of the one seeking to become the king’s second-youngest Prime Minister and First Lord of the Treasury?”
The viscount’s jawline hardened, and a nerve twitched in his cheek. While he was silently glaring down at her, she went on.
“Or perhaps this is some misguided way of getting a dance partner? But no, dancing would not be to your taste. Dancing smacks too much of ‘unbridled foolishness.’ Am I correct?”
“Miss Langdon, you are the very sort of girl I make every endeavor to avoid, being just the sort of reckless—”
“As you said before—”
“Reckless,” he went on, his eyes flashing, making him look more like a pirate than ever, “thoughtless girl who ruins more reputations than her own.”
It was Leorah’s turn to be shocked into speechlessness. What kind of girl did he take her for? Certainly she flouted society’s sillier rules from time to time, but she would never deliberately ruin anyone’s reputation. Still, she didn’t want him to know he had injured her in any way, so after a moment, she said, “That, sir, was ungallant. But I shall forgive you if you will dance with my modest, seemly friend, Miss Felicity Mayson. She is quite unlike me, I assure you.”
He cleared his throat. “Allow me to apologize. That was ungallant.” His eyes actually lost their flash, and his jaw went slack. “You will excuse me, Miss Mayson, for not dancing. I am not disposed to dance this evening. Please excuse me.” He bowed first to Felicity and then to Leorah. Then he turned and walked away.
“Oh dear saints above,” Felicity breathed, suddenly leaning her head on Leorah’s shoulder. “He must have heard what we said about him looking like a pirate. And did I truly say ‘thigh’ in the hearing of Lord Withinghall and Mr. Colthurst?”
“Undoubtedly,” Leorah said, watching Lord Withinghall’s back as he moved more slowly through the crowd. He had pricked her pride, had characterized her as foolish and reckless, which had been somewhat justified. Then when he’d lashed out at her and accused her of ruining reputations, which had not been justified, she realized that one of three things had taken place: she had upset him far more than she had intended, he was neither gentlemanly nor gallant, or the third possibility, his lashing out at her had more to do with someone or something else than it did with her.
Whatever the case, she was glad he was gone.
Perhaps she had gone too far in her goading of the uptight viscount and member of the House of Lords.
Or perhaps Lord Withinghall’s piratical temper had simply gotten the best of him. She pictured him in his shirtsleeves on board a pirate ship, the wind off the ocean whipping the white fabric against his chest as he urged his pirate crew onward toward pillaging and plundering a captured ship.
Felicity was still breathing hard, fanning herself, and sipping her lemonade.
“Don’t worry, Felicity. Perhaps you won’t have to see him again.”
“I can’t believe you were throwing me off on him, inviting him to dance with me. I would have stumbled and fumbled all through it.”
“But just think how it would have elevated you in the eyes of all the other men here.” Another hypocritical and unjust way society treated its women. It didn’t matter that Felicity possessed the sweet, considerate, loyal sort of character—though a bit emotional at times—that would make any man a wonderful wife. Men took notice of inconsequential things, such as whether or not a viscount would deign to dance with her.
“You worry as much about getting me a husband as my mother does.”
“Oh no, I don’t worry, for if you never marry, Julia and I shall adopt you as our sister and force you to live with us and put up with our inane chatter until you die of old age.”
“Dear Julia.” Felicity sighed. “At least she found a wonderful husband.”