Lady Olivia To The Rescue (13 page)

It was obvious to Sheridan that she was having trouble controlling her amusement, and she said, “Now that you have that settled, Sheri, whatever is the matter?”

“Nothing.” When she raised a brow at this, he said, “Everything.”

He looked into those faded blue eyes and realized suddenly that he could not confide his matchmaking plans to her. She probably didn’t know about Olivia’s foolish attempts to rescue light skirts, and it would only worry her. And without that information, she would not understand why he wanted to find Lady Olivia a suitable husband to curb her philanthropic endeavours.

Somehow, he had envisioned coming to the ball, dancing once with Olivia, and then, with the help of her aunt, seeing to it that for the rest of the evening that Olivia’s partners should all be eligible suitors.

But Olivia was no fool, and she would not welcome his interference. What was more, if he danced with her and only with her, then everyone would assume… Sheridan shuddered.

“If you are not going to tell me, Lord Sheridan, then there is nothing I can do to help,” said Amy.

Unfolding his arms, he patted her hand and said, “I find that I cannot confide in you after all, Amy.” This was delivered in quiet, intimate tones that caused the older woman’s colour to rise. “Suffice it to say, your niece needs a husband. I want to help her find one.”

Amy frowned. After a moment, she whispered, “Do you mean that you are not in the running for the job, but you would like to help find someone suitable?”

He nodded, and the older woman chortled, holding her sides she was laughing so hard. People were beginning to stare, and Sheridan pounded her back, pretending she was choking.

Amy regained her senses and thanked him for his aid. She whispered, “I wish you much luck, my dear Sheri, but I fear your efforts are doomed. My niece, I believe, plans to remain a spinster, just like her foolish old aunt.”

“But why?”

“You must ask her that yourself. I don’t know. I have warned her that she may have left it too late, but she will not listen. She insists she is content as she is. I have told her that spinsterhood is a very lonely state. If I had known years ago what it would be like, I might have done things differently, but I was proud—perhaps too proud. And now it is too late.”

“Miss Hepplewhite, may I have the honour of the next dance?”

Sheridan and Amy sprang apart like guilty children.

Sheridan rose to greet Mr. Jenson. When the formalities were accomplished, the doctor repeated his request.

Amy Hepplewhite lifted her chin and said “Certainly not, you old fool. As if I would make a spectacle of myself at this ball, in front of all my friends.”

The doctor’s hopeful expression fell, and he turned away.

Sheridan stopped him. “‘Mr. Jenson, you may have my seat. I am in need of refreshments. I am certain Miss Hepplewhite would welcome someone sensible to talk to, even though she does not dance.”

“Oh. Oh!” said the doctor, understanding making him smile again. “May I sit with you, Miss Hepplewhite?”

“There is nothing to stop you, I suppose,” she replied, her tone haughty but not as cold as before. Before Sheridan could walk away, she added, “I do wish you luck, Lord Sheridan.”

“Thank you, Miss Hepplewhite.”

Sheridan wandered along the edge of the ballroom in search of something strong to fortify him. He found it in the card room and leaned against the wall to study the play.

His friend Lady Thorpe entered and joined him. Before he knew it, he had confided in her, telling her an abbreviated version of his encounter with Lady Olivia at Vauxhall and his subsequent plan to find her a husband.

Maddie chuckled at this and said, “How do you plan to accomplish this? I know that Lady Olivia has been on the town for a number of Seasons, and she has yet to accept an offer. What makes you think you can come up with someone who will change her mind?”

“You’re right, but I must do something.”

“Then marry her yourself,” said Maddie.

“Maddie, you must be mad. You know I don’t want a wife, and I am the last person she would accept. No, there has to be someone...someone worthy and yet, exciting. Someone new. Surely with all the officers who served against Napoleon coming home, there will be someone new.”

“You are not speaking of Richard, I hope. He is hardly marriage material for one such as Lady Olivia.”

“No, no. I had not considered him. Although, they seem to be getting along very well, but I fear Richard is only after a bit of dalliance.”

“Very probably. He is not worth anything else.”

Sheridan shot her an inquiring glance, but she ignored it. A moment later, he snapped his fingers and said, “I have it. Is there anyone who has come home wounded? Not too badly, just enough to make him interesting to a female who likes fixing things.”

“Perhaps you should place an advertisement in the
Post
,” she quipped.

“No, but I shall ask Richard.”

“If Richard is busy trying to seduce the lovely Olivia, then it is unlikely that he will want to help you find a suitably impaired suitor,” observed Maddie.

“True, I hadn’t thought of that.” Sheridan mulled this over for a moment. “He need not know why I want to locate such a man. I shall tell him I need someone—a career officer whose injuries have forced him to retire—to help with my charities.”

“That might entice him,” she said doubtfully.

“Yes, and for now, I shall question Lady Olivia about her willingness to give such a gentleman a chance. I think I know the answer,” he said as they strolled into the ballroom. He spied his quarry among the dancers and grimaced. She was laughing at something her partner said, enjoying herself immensely. “Perhaps I should look for someone who is still fit enough to haul himself about the dance floor.”

“Speaking of that, where is your cane? I nearly fell over when I realized you had not brought one.”

“I had thought to dance,” he said.

“With me?” she asked. “How kind of you, Sheri.”

“Maddie, I…well, why not. I certainly won’t mind dancing with you,” he grumbled.

“You are too kind. Your flattery is going to turn my head, Lord Sheridan.”

“All right. Will you honour me with the next dance, my dear Lady Thorpe?”

“I would be delighted,” she replied, taking his arm.

The dance was a quadrille. Sheridan found he had to concentrate on the steps. He had danced so seldom in the past few years. As he watched the other gentlemen in his square and followed their lead, he realized how foolish he would have looked to attempt dancing with Lady Olivia. And the waltz…the only time he had tried that had been the past Christmas when Rebekah had plagued him so to practice with her.

Maddie was good company. She never asked foolish questions. Her conversation was as rational as any man’s. It was a shame that her marriage had been unhappy. He could have predicted it. Thorpe had had a reputation as a depraved man. She should have wed Richard, but he had been hot to join a regiment and see some action. Poor Maddie. Still, now that she was a widow, she seemed quite content.

When the steps of the dance brought them together again, he asked impulsively, “Are you happy, Maddie?”

“Happy? Why do you ask me that, Sheri?”

“It occurred to me that you might not be, and I would want to help, if I could.”

“I am quite…content, and I think contentment is all I need for the moment.”

“So widowhood is satisfactory. ”

She giggled and pressed his hand. “If you think you are going to help me find a husband, you are wide of the mark, Sheri. I have said it before, and I will say it again. Nothing could make me wed again. Surely you, of all people, can understand that. You feel much the same, do you not?”

“Yes, yes, of course I do.”

“Then please believe me when I say that I am quite content to remain unwed. I will let you know, however, if that should change. Perhaps you should go into the business of matchmaking. Hang out a shingle.”

The steps separated them again, and Sheridan gladly let the subject fall. Why was he suddenly so obsessed with marriage? He shuddered and reminded himself that it was only Lady Olivia’s marriage state that bothered him. From now on, he would concentrate on her and her alone.

The music drew to a close. Everyone stopped as the musicians played a fanfare, Lord Featherstone was standing on the small dais, slightly elevated above the guests.

“Before we have the musicians play the supper dance—a waltz, by the way—we have an announcement to make.” He signalled his daughter and Lord Hardcastle to join him. “We are pleased to announce the betrothal of our dear daughter, Fanny, to Lord Hardcastle. Please, join me in a toast.”

The footmen had been busily circulating with trays of glasses, and after a glance around the room, Lord Featherstone said, “To the happy couple!”

‘To the happy couple!” cheered the crowd.

“Now, back to the festivities.”

The musicians played a short introduction to the melody while the guests found their partners.

Sheridan opened his mouth to speak to Maddie and found Lady Olivia had appeared at his side in her place.

Quickly recovering from the surprise, he said, “My lady, you do not dance?”

“I fear I have not been asked for this particular set,” she said, casting her blue eyes to the ground as she sighed.

“Would you do me the honour?” he asked, noticing that his mouth had gone suddenly dry.

“It would be a pleasure,” she said, stepping into his arms.

“I warn you, I am unaccustomed to dancing, especially the waltz.”

“It is not so very difficult,” she said, smiling up at him.

Her eyes were as blue as the aquamarine she wore around her neck. He shook himself mentally and concentrated on the steps.

They were silent for the first three turns around the room. Finally, the silence became uncomfortable, and Lady Olivia cleared her throat.

“We do not have to dance, if you would prefer to sit out quietly. I am probably making a mull of this,” he said.

“No, I am enjoying myself, and you are doing very well. No one would guess you have not been practicing,” she said.

“Thank you,” he replied. After a moment, he said, “I suppose you like dancing very much.”

“Yes, I do.”

“And it is something you would not wish to give up.”

“No, I enjoy it too much—even when my partner is not as graceful as you, my lord.”

“Now you are flattering me. I know there are others here who could dance circles around me. You could, I am certain.”

“I suppose,” she said. “But where would be the fun of that?”

“I mean, you would not wish to wed someone who could not dance with you on occasion.”

Olivia’s heart jumped into her throat, and she made a little strangled noise.

“This…this is a very strange conversation, my lord.”

He seemed to brush this off and said, “I was just wondering. Look, there is your aunt, heading to the supper room with Mr. Jenson. I was surprised to see him here.”

“I told him we would be attending. I knew he had probably received an invitation. Despite the fact that he chooses not to travel in the same circles as us, he is from a good family. His father was the local squire in the village where my mother and my aunt grew up.”

“He seems a very nice fellow. I thought your aunt would have an apoplexy, however, when he asked her to dance.”

“He asked her to dance?”

“Indeed he did. She turned him down in no uncertain terms. I was sitting with her and could not bear the crushed look in his eyes. I got up and offered him my seat. I think they were both relieved with that solution.”

“How wonderful!” said Olivia. “He comes to this ball because he knows she will be here, and then he actually asks her to dance with him. How romantic! This is progressing very nicely indeed.”

“This?” asked Sheridan, smiling down at her. “You are not by any chance indulging in a bit of match-making?”

She tried to appear innocent, but the effort was too much, and she ruined the effect by giggling.

“Would it not be wonderful? I know there is some link between them in the past. She has hardly spoken to him for years, but now, she seems ready to forgive him for whatever transgression he may have committed. I think it is marvellous.”

Her expression dared him to contradict her, but he only agreed, adding, “Why should they not find each other after all these years?”

“Why not, indeed.” Olivia’s heart thumped loudly in her breast as he smiled at her again.

They finished their waltz in a companionable silence. Olivia could not remember when she had felt so comfortable while performing the waltz.

Always before, she had worried that this gentleman might hold her too close or that another might not hold her tightly enough, and she would find following his lead impossible. Lord Sheridan, though his first steps had been tentative, seemed to know instinctively how to hold her and guide her. It was as if she could guess his every subtle move, and he could guess hers.

Being in his arms simply felt right. She would have loved to put her head on his shoulder. Better than that, to have kissed him again would have been heaven.

“You are flushed, are you feeling all right?”

“I…I am fine, my lord. As a matter of fact, I have never been better,” she added, and he smiled.