The Season

twelve

"It's all Alex's fault. If it weren't for her, we would be able to carry on as we always have without Mother making us do her bidding." Kit looked across the table at Will, who nodded his head firmly in agreement and dealt the next hand of vingt-et-un, the card game they were playing.

Nick looked down at his cards with an air of superiority. "At least I have a legitimate reason to miss the Salisbury ball. Mother can't deny me the trip back to Oxford that's been planned for weeks. The two of you are on your own!"

He flipped his cards, showing them with a confident flourish, and grimaced when he saw that he'd lost roundly to all three of the others.

Blackmoor, who occupied the fourth seat at the table, commented, "I should say that rather takes the sting off, doesn't it, Kit? Will?"

The boys all laughed and continued their conversation as Will collected his winnings from the center of the table and began to shuffle the cards for another hand. Kit spoke next.

"She can't force us to go to the ball. We're grown men, for Lord's sake!"

Will cocked an eyebrow at his younger brother. "You don't think she can force us? We are speaking of the same mother, correct? small frame, enormous will?"

Kit sighed and leaned back in his chair, leveling his older brother with a stare. "How are we going to escape?"

"We're not," said Will. "This is one of those balls that we can't avoid — Nicola Salisbury has been a friend of Alex's for years. She's not going to miss this for anything."

Nick spoke up. "That may be true, but I really am beginning to think that Alex is no more interested in attending the Salisbury ball than we are. She's been rather more difficult than usual in the last few days, don't you think?"

Kit replied distractedly, "No, not that I've noticed."

Blackmoor cut in, his question appearing to all as casual curiosity. "Has she told you that something is bothering her?"

Nick shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "No, not in so many words. She simply seems to have developed more of a disdain for events of the season. She hasn't been eager to attend much in the last week."

Will snorted. "Alex has never been very keen on events of the season. I wouldn't worry about her. As I said, Nicola is a friend. She’ll want to go. One of us has to chaperone her. And, since I'm older and of a higher rank, I get to decide who that will be. Care to hazard a guess, Kit?" His green eyes twinkled with laughter.

"Bollocks!" This from Kit, who was not about to accept this particular decision without a fight. "It can't be me!"

"Why not?"

Kit paused, clearly searching for a viable excuse to avoid the ball in question. His eyes lit up with excitement when he'd hit on the right thing. "The hunting party I've an invitation to is just as viable a location to meet an eligible young lady as any, I daresay. I shall simply tell Mother that." He looked veritably triumphant.

Will groaned, knowing his mother well enough to see that she would take Kit's statement to mean that there was a particular eligible young lady to whom he was referring. "Well played, Brother."

Kit nodded his head in acceptance of the compliment and Will sighed, slowly shuffling the cards, deep in thought as he attempted to devise an excellent excuse to escape from brotherly duties.

Blackmoor, who had been rather silent for the duration of the conversation, cleared his throat, softly interrupting his friends' thoughts.

"I happen to be attending the ball. I daresay I could chaperone her."

Will's eyes lit up at his friend's words. "Truly?" At Blackmoor's nod, he continued, "Brilliant! Everyone thinks of you as one of her brothers anyway... you practically are, for goodness sake!"

Blackmoor cleared his throat again. "Indeed."

Attempting to contain his excitement at his narrow escape, Will tried for a serious, concerned look at his friend. That particular visage did not come easily. "Are you sure, Blackmoor? I can't think of anything worse than an evening of watching over Alex as she attracts legions of milksop fans."

Blackmoor laughed shortly and replied, "Neither can I." After a pause during which he realized that he needed to say more to his friends, he continued, "But I'm attending anyway, so... it simply seems the logical solution."

"Capital! I knew there was a reason we kept you around, chap!"

Nick shook his head in amazement at his older brother. "It's simply incredible, the luck you have. If that had been me, I'd have somehow ended up having to escort her, Vivi, and Ella for the rest of the season!"

A clock in the hallway of Blackmoor House rang loudly, announcing the arrival of six o'clock. all three Staffords started.

Will threw his cards down and stood. "That's our cue, lads. Mother wants us home for dinner this evening to discuss the plans for the Worthington ball."

Nick sighed and rose, then spoke with exasperation in his voice. "You'd think there was nothing more important in all of the British Empire than the season. Lord save us from idle mothers."

"Don't suppose you'd care to join us, Blackmoor?" This from Kit. "After all, you seem quite adept at limiting our involvement in all things season-related."

"I imagine I've done enough for you this particular evening," he said. "A night discussing a ball with your mother as well? I think not."

Will clapped Gavin on the shoulder. "Well said, Blackmoor. We shall let you escape this time — but only because you are such a very good friend."

With that, the three brothers took their leave and Blackmoor found himself alone once more in his study in the dwindling light.

He swore roundly, cursing himself for making the unintelligent — nay, idiotic — offer to escort Alex to the Salisbury ball. What had he been thinking?

"Clearly not much," he spoke aloud to the room at large.

There was nothing about this situation that could go right. It was bad enough that he'd come dangerously close to compromising Alex's honor with her entire family standing mere feet away — but now he was offering to chaperone her? Alone?

"She's as good as your sister!" Again, he spoke aloud, his voice laced with self-disgust.

Except she wasn't his sister, and he knew that. The emotions he'd felt on the balcony the previous week were far from brotherly. Very far from brotherly. Which was why he'd been making every effort to avoid her for the past week. Eight days. Not that he'd noticed. Well, he had noticed. But only because they were friends. Just friends. And it was to stay that way. The Stafford family had done too much for him, too much for his family, for him to throw it all away and go off kissing Alex. They trusted him. And he would not betray that trust. Besides, Alex probably hadn't given that event on the balcony a second thought. They were only friends. "Right, then. That's that."

He paused, then shook his head. He really did need to stop talking to himself.

Alex stood outside the door to the Worthington House sitting room and took a deep breath, gathering her courage before she entered. She knew Blackmoor was on the other side of the door, waiting to escort her to the Salisbury ball as though nothing had happened between them — as though she hadn't made a fool of herself and thought he was going to kiss her, then stormed off to sulk for the rest of the evening. Or week. Or two.

She had been attempting to remain calm all day, promising herself that she would ignore the fact that he'd practically vanished from existence for the last two weeks. Sixteen days. Not that she was counting. She had told herself all afternoon that everything was perfectly normal rather than supremely awkward, that this evening was something she'd been looking forward to, rather than immensely dreading, and that she had never thought of Gavin in any way except as a very dear, very sweet friend. She'd chosen dear and sweet because they were words she used for children, puppies, and the elderly.

Of course, thinking of Gavin as a puppy hadn't quite settled her ire. To the contrary, as she'd dressed, she'd grown more and more irritated. Irritated with him for being the only person willing to escort her to the ball this evening... irritated with her brothers for missing this particular event... and irritated with Nicola Salisbury, who'd been her friend since her days in the nursery, for having a mother who would host a ball at all.

"Well, I might as well get this over with," she spoke aloud to the foyer. "It's only a carriage ride, after all... after which I shall ignore him for the rest of the evening." Taking a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and pasting an entirely too bright smile on her face, she turned the handle of the enormous mahogany door and swung it open.

"Good evening, Lord Blackmoor." The words came out a touch too loudly, but she ignored that fact and pressed on. "I trust the evening finds you well?"

Blackmoor turned from where he stood at the window and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the picture Alex made, bathed in the brilliant light of the hallway behind her. He swallowed, and Alex took no small amount of pleasure in the fact that he looked as though his mouth had filled with sawdust in just a few brief seconds. She did not let on that she noticed. Or that she knew precisely why he seemed so uncomfortable.

While she had dressed, she had made the decision to take revenge on Blackmoor the only way a young lady in her first season could without making a scene — by donning a ball gown designed to send men into fits.

Madame Fernaud and her mother had created this particular gown in the most current style of the season. The color was a deep, smoky violet — one of her favorites, which showed off her coloring beautifully. The cut was en vogue; the dramatically low neckline would have sent her father into conniptions, her brothers as well for that matter — so tonight, when they were all absent and she was being nursemaided by Blackmoor, provided the perfect evening to wear it.

She didn't pretend that there wasn't another reason she had decided to wear this particular gown on this particular evening. Blackmoor was standing in this room, looking equal parts irritated and stunned. He couldn't object — as much as she was certain he wanted to. She looked gorgeous in this dress. If she caused a stir tonight, it would be his to deal with and that would serve him right. And they both knew it.

She smiled brilliantly as she noticed he was looking anywhere but directly at her. Coward, she thought to herself. I'll show you to almost kiss me, then disappear for a fortnight. He swallowed visibly and her grin grew even broader.

"Shall we go, my lord? I should hate to miss the first waltz."

Her words spurred him to action. And he moved gracefully across the room, offering her his arm. "Of course. We couldn't possibly miss the first waltz."

Was there a hint of sarcasm in his tone?

Crossing the foyer, Gavin reminded himself of his pledge to remain aloof this evening and attempted a suitably brotherly, "You look lovely, of course, Alex, but don't you think that gown a touch revealing?"

"I hadn't noticed, my lord."

One of Gavin's golden eyebrows rose at her statement — which he knew was a bald lie. Recognizing a conversation that would best be avoided, Gavin emitted a deep, noncommittal sound from the back of his throat, and with that, they were off.

In the carriage, the two sat silently in an unspoken agreement not to address the previous weeks' events. This was fine with Alex, who, in spite of being thoroughly satisfied with the fact that she had unsettled Blackmoor by wearing a wonderfully revealing dress, remained largely embarrassed by the entire course of events at the Worthington dinner and would prefer they were never addressed again.

She'd just stood there, wavering in the dark, waiting for him to kiss her! Oh! What a fool she must have looked — she'd be surprised if Gavin hadn't gone laughing to her brothers! Oooh... she could just imagine his response: Someone has to get that chit married off!

Yes, the entire experience was mortifying. She could feel her face flushing now just thinking about it. With a silent prayer of thanks for the dark carriage, she willed her blush away — he clearly wasn't thinking about the dinner... so she wouldn't think about it either. Even if it killed her.

Clearing her throat, she forced out, "Thank you for escorting me tonight."

"Of course, Alex. No need to thank me. I was planning to attend, and I know how much you would have hated to miss Nicola's ball."

"That's my reason, yes. But why are you here?"

Gavin leaned back on the seat and stretched out his long legs in front of him. "The most common reason of all, I imagine."

She cocked her head. "Which is?"

"Mothers. And their infernal quest to have their sons matched."

She smiled. Her first authentic one since the beginning of the evening. "Yours as well?"

"Of course. And, because she is in mourning this season, she has little else to do besides dream up places for me to go to meet my future wife. If you ask me, the mourning requirements for widows with children of a marriageable age should be severely limited."

"So why attend the balls at all? She's in the North Country, for goodness sake. She can't force you."

"First, you seem to forget my mother's ability to wield the sword of guilt. She's desperate for news of the season, so I feel obligated to provide it.

"More than that," he continued, "she's now hounding me to step into my duties as earl and, while I feel certain that if she were here every day I could roundly ignore her, the fact that she is absent leads me to at least humor her. well, that in addition to the fact that I'm certain she's got an army of spies larger than the War Office and I'm afraid of her wrath."

Alex dipped her head respectfully. "A good son. Truly."

"Mmmmm." His reply was noncommittal. "Of course, there is a reason that doesn't have to do with my mother."

Alex's eyebrows rose with her curiosity as the carriage slowed to a halt.

"I couldn't very well let you attend a ball unescorted." The words were still hanging in the air as the door to the carriage opened and Gavin stepped down onto the gravel walkway leading to Salisbury House, turning back to offer his hand to help her descend from the vehicle.

As she did, she spoke with a tone laced with humor. "That would have, indeed, been a risk. Imagine the trouble in which I could find myself without you to watch over me." She paused, pretending to consider the trouble in question, and with an exaggerated sigh, pointed out, "Your overwhelming desire to save me is rather unaccommodating, my lord." She felt a flood of pleasure at his rich laughter and all owed herself to be escorted inside.

Inside, they were announced at the entrance to the ball and greeted by Lord and Lady Salisbury, an odd pair not simply because they were polar opposites — Lord Salisbury tall and reed like with a somewhat unremarkable personality and his lady a rather small, rotund woman who was, quite possibly, the cheeriest soul in the ton — but also because they were thoroughly and publicly smitten with each other, even after six children, all of whom were completely embarrassed by their parents.

"My dears!" spoke Lady Salisbury in her typically excited fashion as she kissed Alex on both cheeks. "We are delighted to host you as always! Nicola has been waiting for you, Alex! But you will have to wait to see her! You have arrived just in time! The first waltz is starting now! You mustn't miss it!"

And with a quick greeting for Lord Salisbury, they were swept up in a wave of people moving toward the dance floor. Lady Salisbury had been right —the music began immediately.

"Have you ever noticed," Blackmoor offered, "that Lady Salisbury speaks not in sentences but in exclamations?"

Alex caught her giggle and turned an impish gaze on him. "My lord! Whatever do you mean?!"

His rich laughter swirled around them. "If I am damned for noting such a thing about such a kind woman, you are surely joining me for imitating her."

The two relaxed and danced in companionable silence. Sneaking a glance up at Gavin, she attempted to discover some sign that the previous weeks' events had rattled him at all. She couldn't and, in that moment, whirling across the ball room, she realized that she'd been silly to think that Gavin, this Gavin, whom she'd known all her life, might have given a second thought to her in any way other than as a very dear friend.

She sighed with twin relief and disappointment — relief because they wouldn't have to talk about the incident and could go on as though it had never happened, and disappointment for the very same reasons.

The latter emotion frightened her slightly and led her to take leave of his company after the waltz to seek out Nicola Salisbury, whom she found without much difficulty, deep in conversation with Ella and Vivi, across the room.

Nicola had always been a welcome addition to their trio — a wickedly funny person who was always willing to say something outlandish. A Salisbury, Nicola's pedigree and immense wealth required the rest of London society to tolerate her unique personality. Not that she cared a whit. She was one of the few people Alex knew who did and said whatever she liked and truly didn't care what others thought of her — a rare quality in a member of the ton — and Alex had always quite liked her.

Making her way toward the threesome, Alex couldn't help but smile. None of her friends had any interest in the fact that they were virtually surrounded by eligible young men, all attempting to look calm and confident but managing only to look desperate for the attention of the three young women.

She shook "her head with something close to pity for the poor young pups. None of them would garner more than a polite smile from her friends tonight— of that, she was quite certain.

Arriving at the spot where they were, Alex adopted her best stage whisper and said, "You lot really ought to keep moving —you're attracting a crowd."

With equal starts, the threesome looked up and scanned their surroundings, prompting their admirers to smile, sweep into elaborate bows, and generally make fools of themselves.

Nicola rolled her eyes quite publicly and leaned in to hug Alex. "Ridiculous. Do they really think fawning is going to help their common cause? And hello to you, Lady Alexandra." She spoke the title exaggeratedly, holding Alex at arm's length to study her. "This color is incredible on you. The neckline, too. My God — if they were interested in us... they're quite beside themselves now! I think Waring is in need of smelling salts. Did I see you come in with Blackmoor? He has his work as escort cut out for him this evening!"

Alex laughed at the exaggerated compliments as Vivi spoke. "Good Lord! How did there come to be so many of them? Which one of us do you suppose they're here for?"

"I'm not certain they've crafted much of an opinion on that front, to be honest," Alex said with a smile. "I should think that if any one of you showed the smallest amount of interest, any one of them would come running."

"Dear God, don't do that, then!" Nicola replied with mock alarm.

"What interesting creatures." Ella spoke with such an undertone of scientific research that the rest of the girls couldn't help their laughter.

Looking over Alex's shoulder, Vivi lowered her voice and spoke just loudly enough for the group to hear. "Careful, Alex, here comes someone whom I daresay knows exactly 'which one' he's here for."

Before Alex could turn to see who Vivi was speaking of, she heard the rich, amused tenor of Freddie Stanhope's voice. "You four shouldn't be over here all by yourselves. The sharks are circling."

With genuine pleasure, Alex smiled up at her friend. "We were just noticing that ourselves, my lord. You are certainly well met."

"Indeed," Nicola boldly added, "unless you are circling as well, my lord?"

Freddie put his hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Certainly not, my lady. You wound me to suggest such a thing." He added a distinctly lewd waggle of his eyebrows, sending the girls into giggles.

In a conspiratorial whisper, he continued, "Shall I escort you beauties elsewhere and away from these young pups?"

Ella replied with amusement, "I'm not certain they wouldn't follow, but your plan seems as good as any."

Freddie leaned toward Ella. "I wouldn't be concerned. Not one of them appears to be committed to proper wooing — if they were worth their salt, I would have had to throw elbows to get so close to the four of you."

"Intriguing," spoke Alex. "So now that you have laid claim to us — someone will have to throw elbows to intercede?"

Freddie turned a wickedly handsome smile on her. "Lady Alexandra, I'm not the kind of man to lay claim to four women at once — I'm merely offering my protection to all of you. For now" — he paused, pretending to consider a vital question — "I shall simply fill your dance cards."

He proceeded to do just that, ending with Alex. As he looked down at the little card dangling from her wrist, he shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Why, Alexandra Stafford — it can't be possible you have the next waltz free. Unless... you were saving it for a dashing suitor?"

"Indeed, my lord, I was." Alex cocked her head and considered him. "But I suppose you’ll do."

And, with that, he whisked her into his arms and onto the dance floor. He didn't waste any time before flirting wickedly. "You're the most beautiful woman in the room, Alex."

She smiled up at him. "And you are the greatest bounder in the room, Freddie."

"True. Yet you can't help but enjoy my company. Admit it."

"I never said I didn't enjoy it... but I'm told it's risky. Ella and Vivi think you've got me in your sights."

"And if they were right?" His voice was deeper than usual, and she imagined this was exactly the tone he'd practiced to send young women into fits.

She scoffed. "Save it, Stanhope. If you thought even for a minute that I might possibly fall for you, you'd run. Far. And fast."

"Too true, my brilliant, perceptive friend. Too true."

"Someday, Freddie... someday, some young lady is going to set you on your ear. And you won't be able to resist her."

"Never."

"And, with such pompous self-confidence, it's a certainty."

"I shall shamelessly flirt with you and drive her away."

"This isn't shameless flirting already?"

"Not at all! I'm just getting started." They swirled under the twinkling lights as Alex's laughter drifted across the dance floor and he continued casually, "But, my lady, you seem to have an altogether different admirer who can't take his eyes off you. And, at this particular moment, he doesn't appear at all pleased that you are enjoying yourself in my arms." She started to look to see to whom he was referring, when he stopped her quickly. "Don't look, kitten.

Then he’ll know we're discussing him."

"Who?"

"You mean you don't know? You haven't noticed him watching you all evening? All season?"

"Freddie, WHO?"

"Blackmoor, of course."

"You're touched." Alex laughed, shaking her head. "He's not been watching me all season, and if he has been watching me tonight, it's only because he feels obligated to. He's my chaperone for the evening."

Freddie laughed shortly. "Really? Your chaperone! It seems to me that your family are the ones who are touched, Alex. They're practically feeding you to the lion."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Freddie. Blackmoor has no interest in me other than pseudobrotherly admiration."

"Oh? I've two sisters myself, if you’ll remember, Alex. And I've never looked at one of them quite the way he's looking at you right now."

It took all of Alex's strength not to look. "Which is how, precisely?"

"As though he doesn't know if he wants to kiss you or kill you."

She gasped, a blush coming to her cheeks. "Freddie!"

"Don't shoot the messenger, sweet."

"You're sorely mistaken."

"Perhaps." The music came to a crescendo and they whirled to a halt, Freddie bowing low over her hand and lingering a touch longer than was entirely proper. He winked up at her and whispered, "Let's find out, shall we?" Then, louder and with a rakish grin, "Shall we find the exit to the garden, my lady? I daresay we both could use some... air."

"I don't think that will be at all necessary, Stanhope." The statement cut through the air like a knife, and Alex felt her stomach drop with the realization that Blackmoor was standing immediately behind her. She looked up at Freddie, wide-eyed, not quite knowing what to do.

He spoke with an air of bored dismissal. "Blackmoor, what a surprise. What is it you want?"

Blackmoor's tone brooked no refusal, but was surprisingly hushed, only loud enough for the three of them to hear. "I want you to stay away from Lady Alexandra, Stanhope. She is most definitely not in need of a walk in the gardens with the likes of you."

"I suppose you would be a better companion?" Freddie drawled. Alex could sense that this conversation was not going to end well but had a nagging suspicion that Freddie was quite enjoying himself.

"Most certainly. I'm practically her brother." Freddie gave a short laugh at this, which made Blackmoor even more angry. "More importantly," he continued, "I'm her escort this evening, and I say where she goes and who she goes with. And she is most certainly not going anywhere with you."

"I beg your pardon?" Alex spoke, keeping her voice hushed, but pulling herself up to her full height and stepping between the two men. Her face flushed with indignation as she leveled Blackmoor with a dark look. "What did you just say?" He looked down at her mutely as she pressed on. "I'm almost certain that you implied... nay... dictated... that you have some kind of control over my behavior."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I think it best you say no more, my lord, lest you embarrass yourself further. Let me be clear. Last I was aware, you were neither my husband nor my father nor my king. Therefore, any control you may imagine you hold over me is just that — imaginary."

She continued, her anger making her voice waver, "If I want to take a walk in the gardens with Stanhope, or with anyone else for that matter, that is entirely my business. I will thank you to stay out of my affairs. Or need I remind you that it is not Stanhope whom I've had to be wary of on balconies recently?"

Her whispered question dropped between them, and Blackmoor's face turned to stone. She saw fury flash before he offered her a short bow and turned away, only to be swallowed up almost immediately by the crush of people who remained unaware of the scene that had just occurred.

Fists clenched in fury, Alex watched him go.

"Well..." drawled Stanhope once he disappeared, "that was certainly more illuminating than I had expected it would be."

"Oh, shut up, Freddie."

"My lips are sealed, kitten... but may I make a small suggestion? Two, actually."

"As if I could stop you?"

"First, I wouldn't necessarily mention that part about balconies so freely and in such close company. It's not exactly a flattering picture of Blackmoor... and could be damaging to your reputation."

"Thank you, Freddie." Her voice was laced with sarcasm. "I hadn't realized that."

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, sweet." He pressed on. "Second... I'd imagine Blackmoor will be rather... put out... that you brought that up in front of me."

"More than put out," she replied. "Livid."

"A choice word."

"So what's your second suggestion?"

"Tread lightly."

"That's it? That's the best advice you can give me?"

"All right, tread very lightly."