She gave a decisive nod.
The three went out into a fine moonlit night to the coach waiting outside the front door, the carriage lamps throwing a soft glow over the pavement.
In the great hall of their mansion, the Duke and Duchess of Lindsey warmly welcomed them. Maddie knew that Tate and Ianthe, a beautiful blonde lady, were good friends of Hart’s. They quickly put her at her ease.
Once they were announced at the ballroom door, the chatter and laughter ebbed away. Faces turned to watch Maddie as she descended the stairs, a gloved hand on Hart’s arm, with Diane behind them. When they reached the ballroom floor and moved among the guests, the hubbub resumed. Some ladies curtsied before Maddie and gentlemen came to speak to Hart and ask to be introduced. A few looked at them with disapproval, but none turned away.
It was unmistakable how popular Hart was, but the chatter on everyone’s lips would mostly be about her.
“What a wonderful color,” a lady remarked to her companion as Maddie passed within earshot. “I shall demand my modiste find that fabric and make me a gown.”
“I never thought it would suit auburn hair,” the other lady replied. “But it does, doesn’t it?” She patted her frizzy orange hair. “I shall wear it myself.”
Hart put his hand over Maddie’s. She looked up to see him smile. He had heard them too.
Mrs. Spencer stood within Hart’s circle of friends. When first Hart and then Maddie greeted her, she sank into a curtsey. The tight smile in which she returned Maddie’s greeting carried a sense of foreboding. Was it Mrs. Spencer who sent her that horrid gossip sheet? Maddie could believe it of her. Then it was forgotten as she was presented to His Grace, Charles, Duke of Shrewsbury and his wife, Lady Nellie. Maddie met Lady Ianthe, Tate’s wife. They warmly drew her into their conversation. Maddie felt shielded, protected. She met the Earl of Redcliffe, Dominic, and his wife, Olivia, a warm and very natural lady with a decided lack of airs. And then, as if by magic, any whispers about her seemed to die down as thetonturned their attentions to other matters.
Maddie needed to sit down. She feared her legs wouldn’t carry her another step, but then the orchestra struck up for a quadrille, and Tate asked her to dance.
Strange how soothing music could be. Maddie was soon laughing at the duke’s witty remarks. Hart danced by with Ianthe. Their eyes met his with a message of reassurance. She may not have proved an instant success. Some on the dance floor treated her with cool indifference, and perhaps some would only ever tolerate her because of Hart and his friends, but Maddie felt her spirits soar. She’s always loved to dance and smiled as she performed the steps.
When the waltz was called, Maddie looked for Hart, hoping he would dance with her. But as another gentleman friend she’d been introduced to earlier came to claim her hand, she accepted him. Hart entered the dance floor with the dainty Mrs. Spencer on his arm.
Shocked, Maddie tried to wrestle her surging emotions under control. From Diane she learned that husbands were discouraged from dancing with their wives. The men she’d met tonight had several different partners. Why did she feel this woman was a danger to her? Just then, Mrs. Spencer glanced over Hart’s shoulder at her, and Maddie saw something in her eyes akin to ownership. She almost gasped aloud. Were her worst fears about to come true?
When the next dance was called, a foppish gentleman crossed the floor to ask her to dance. Diane leaned over. “Lord Pickering is an outrageous rake. Best to avoid him and accept Lord Benning, who approaches behind him.”
“I don’t see why,” Maddie said. “He looks harmless enough.”
She rose and accepted Pickering’s request, giving him her arm.
“You are quite the most striking woman here tonight, Lady Montford,” Pickering said as they joined the others on the dance floor while the orchestra began its preparations for the Sir Roger de Coverley.
“Thank you, sir.” He was undeniably handsome, but his self-satisfied smile made her wonder what any woman would see in him. She employed the fan at her wrist, sweeping it in front of her face. “It is entirely too warm tonight, is it not?”
“Indeed,” he said huskily. “London society has seen too little of you, Lady Montford. I should like to discover more about you.”
The music began. Maddie spied Hart frowning at her as he danced with Olivia. She smiled at Pickering. “I am flattered by your interest, sir. But really, there isn’t much to tell.”
“I can’t believe that,” he said throatily as his hand moved lower on her waist in an attempt to draw her closer.
She ignored it, but suddenly hated being here with him. Suddenly, the dance floor seemed too crowded and the ballroom airless. When the dance ended, she coolly thanked him.
Diane was back in her chair, having danced twice with Lord Peter Wallace. “You should avoid Pickering. He has a bad reputation.”
“So I gather. I shan’t dance with him again.” Maddie turned to Diane. “But Lord Peter has claimed you twice. Do you approve of him?”
Diane made a vague gesture with her fan. “Lord Peter is pleasant company.”
Maddie suspected there could be more to it, but she let the matter drop.
Later, when Hart joined her in her bedchamber in his dressing gown, Maddie was at last able to talk to him. “I was surprised to see you waltz with Mrs. Spencer.”
“The waltz was promised to the lady before you and I met,” Hart said. “It would be ungentlemanly not to honor it.”
Maddie thought that a fine excuse. “I expected you to waltz with me.”
“Did you? It is not usually done.”