The uneasiness left her eyes. “You are most welcome. We are more than happy to have you.”
Standing at the entry, Jackson cleared his throat and announced, in a booming voice worthy of the stage, “The Earl and Countess of Daventry.”
Northfield’s cousin Althea entered the room on the arm of a tall, lean red-headed man. The Daventrys spoke with their hosts for a minute, then as other newcomers were announced Taviston approached the pair. He had known Lady Althea for as long as he had known Northfield. The marquess had been her guardian up until her marriage to the earl last year.
“It’s wonderful to see the two of you. You are rather late in making your way to town,” Taviston admonished.
The earl replied, “It could not be helped. Our little Alexandra had a touch of the ague and we feared traveling with her.”
Jackson continued to announce guests but Taviston ignored him and focused on the friends in front of him. He wished their infant daughter good health and after a few minutes more conversation, the couple moved on.
With a glance around the room, he saw it had quickly filled with about a dozen or so people. He saw no sign of Miss Forster and felt an odd twinge of disappointment. Ridiculous. Of course, she would be here. Not that it mattered to him in the slightest. He was going to ignore her, whenever she did arrive.
“Good evening, Your Grace.”
He looked down to see a vaguely familiar elderly woman smiling up at him.
She attempted to curtsy, but it was obvious the action brought her some discomfort. “I am Lady Smitherton. I do not believe I have ever had the privilege of an introduction, so I am boldly taking it upon myself.”
He gave her his best smile and gripped her leathery hand as he bowed over it. “Honored to meet you, my lady.”
She flashed him a brilliant smile and began discussing all manner of things, including the weather, Napoleon, and Taviston’s own lovely green and yellow waistcoat. Jane was right; Lady Smitherton was a dear. While she detailed her recent visit to the opera, Jackson appeared at the entry again and announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Barrett Browne and Miss Victoria Forster.”
Lady Smitherton changed course, discussing the addition of those innocent-seeming and yet oh-so-titillating sketches to that rag Hither and Yon. Though he knew it was rude, Taviston ignored the older woman. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from Miss Forster, even though the color of her dress should have blinded every person in the room.
The gown itself was very stylish but the color was astoundingly harsh. The only natural thing he could think to compare it to was, unfortunately, the mess seeping out the noses of his little nieces when they had the ague. On a brighter note, her hair hadn’t been curled tonight but it was artfully wound around her head, with a few wisps having escaped to trail down her neck. Her magnificent smile reached all the way to her blue eyes and lingered there. She was more beautiful every time he saw her.
She had yet to even glance his way, so he continued to unabashedly stare at her. The gown revealed quite a bit of her creamy skin and he thought he detected a small freckle right on the top of her left—
What the devil. Hadn’t he sworn to pay her no heed?
“Taviston?” Lady Smitherton ended her monologue and looked at him with an inquisitive eye.
“My apologies, Lady Smitherton,” he said sheepishly.
“It is all right. I only wished to inquire if I might introduce you to my daughter, Lady Weldon.”
“But of course.” What else could he say after his ill-mannered display?
He was thoroughly occupied in the next fifteen minutes meeting Lady Weldon and her husband and then the Stanwicks and their two adult children. Eventually he was left alone and Louisa Browne darted over to his side.
“Taviston, I am delighted to find you here. Although I should have known you would be. You and Northfield are thick as thieves.”
“Hello, Mrs. Browne,” he said in a monotone. It truly astounded him how she never took his pointed hints.
She flashed him a flirtatious smile and launched into a scathing assessment of the fashions she had seen at a recent rout. Before his mind began to numb from the inane chatter, he scanned the room, looking for Miss Forster once again. There was no harm in looking at her.
Ah, there she was, over by a window with Jane, who appeared to be introducing her to a fashionably dressed young gentleman. Taviston nodded at Louisa every now and again and threw out a few vague phrases. He did not feel nearly as ashamed as he had when he had ignored Lady Smitherton. Louisa never seemed to notice his attention wandering elsewhere.
Jane, Victoria, and the unknown gentleman were having a lively discussion. Taviston’s attention was forced back to Louisa when her husband joined them. Louisa directed the conversation around to Browne’s shipping investments. Taviston listened with half an ear and swung his gaze back to the trio at the window.
Only now they were just a duo.
Jane had left Miss Forster and the young man alone. Taviston narrowed his eyes and looked around the room. Northfield and Jane were grinning at each other and watching the pair by the window too.
Unbelievable. This was their matchmaking effort? Miss Forster and whoever this young buck was.
He made a few noncommittal replies to Browne’s inquiries about his interests in investing and finally gave the couple a curt goodbye. He stalked across the room toward his friend, who had since been abandoned by his wife.