“Oh, Richie, I do swear, you must find someone to dance with. Do you have your name on anyone’s card?”
“I am due for the next dance with…” He racked his brain trying to remember which lady he was set to dance with on the fourth. “Uhh..” He flushed with embarrassment and sat down, looking around for a familiar female face to point out. He had just been thinking about her. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten her name that quickly. “Uhh, Kathleen. Lady Kathleen.”
“Caywood? Oh, oh.” Elizabeth nodded, looking for Lady Kathleen. “There she is. The song is starting, should you not go over there and fetch her?”
“Well, I suppose I should.” He stood up immediately and went in Kathleen’s direction. She was watching him and stood up expectantly as he got closer.
“Lady Kathleen, I do apologize for my late arrival.” He bowed when he got to her and held out his hand for her to take. He offered no further apology, and she took his hand, nodding.
“It’s quite all right, Duke Wentworth.”
They moved out onto the dance floor. Richard spent most of the dance wondering what he should be saying to Kathleen. They had danced before, and he found her to be a smooth and effortless dance partner. She flowed across the floor with a great deal of grace and ease. But she always maintained a fairly aloof look on her face that told him she didn’t care who she was dancing with, she was only there to dance. Her near-silence was also a clue in that direction. She was polite, and if he thought of something to ask, she readily answered. She didn’t offer any conversation, however, so he just let her dance.
When it was over, they separated, and he bowed to her.
“That was lovely, Lady Kathleen. We shall have to do it again.”
“Yes, that would be wonderful, Richard.” She lowered her head and turned away. She had a mane of bright golden hair that made a thick braid down her back and a pretty figure in her bright yellow gown. He watched her skirts whisk out around her as she walked back to where she had been sitting, where another gentleman was waiting for her. Lord Edward Webb. Richard thought they would make a good couple. Neither one had much to say.
He went back to his chair and dropped himself in it, relieved that Elizabeth had a gentleman to dance with. It kept her away from his table. He lifted his drink and watched the ladies and men twirling about in front of him. It was a comforting sight, and he liked the song that was playing. But his boredom soon returned, and he found himself wondering what his children were doing.
An instant smile covered his face. His children were the apple of his eye. He was so proud of them and wished he had skipped the dance to stay with them for the evening. He pictured them in his mind. Charlotte was in the middle and at ten, she had quite a mind of her own. She enjoyed bossing her brothers around. They didn’t seem to mind very much. His son, Frederick, was 12 and had told him several times that Charlotte was brilliant and should be listened to whenever possible.
The memory made Richard’s smile widen. The youngest of his brood was 7, Master Samuel. Samuel reminded Richard of a young packhorse. He was a broad-shouldered, solid little boy who would surely be the strongest boy in his classes every year of his schooling. Thinking about them made him want to go home right now and play with them.
How would that look? He chuckled. Elizabeth had worked so hard to get him to the ball tonight, but his heart just wasn’t in it. It was the second season he had attended, and there was still two more weeks to go. The way he felt now, it was unlikely he would last that long. He knew these women, and none of them interested him. He’d been trying to get that through to Elizabeth since last season.
He looked around once more. He was fairly certain his name was not on anyone else’s dance card for the evening. He could make a quick escape and come back to the next one to satisfy Elizabeth. He stood up and straightened his coat again, looking around for his sister. He picked up an orange from the fruit arrangement that adorned the table and began to peel it subconsciously, his eyes still roaming around the room, trying to spy his sister. She wasn’t dancing now, as the song had ended. He felt a little overwhelmed. There were suddenly quite a lot of people in the room, and his head was swimming trying to see one person among the crowd.
He shut his eyes and regained his balance.
He discarded the orange peel on the plate he’d left behind and picked up a napkin. Then he turned away from the table and almost ran into his sister, who was standing only inches away.
“Richard!” She took a startled step back.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Elizabeth!” He reached out and grabbed her elbow to help her stand steadily. She shook her head.