“What was that about?” Viola asked, and Jeffrey waved a hand in response.
“You know Ambrose.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, looking up at him meaningfully through her spectacles. “Lady Phoebe. I had thought that the two of you did not get on particularly well, and yet there you were together, looking as though you might actually be having a nice time.”
“It was just a dance, Viola,” he said with a sigh. Had everyone been watching him, or did his family not have their own affairs to see to? “I thought you enjoyed your acquaintance with Lady Phoebe.”
“I do, but that has nothing to do with this conversation. Now you, Jeffrey, are not one to ask just any young woman to waltz in front of all theton," she said, an eyebrow raised as she studied him for a few seconds before continuing on her way.
A moment alone, in silence,Jeffrey thought.That is all I need. Then I will—
“Berkley.”
So much for that.
“Clarence,” he replied, pushing himself away from the pillar. At least the Duke wouldn’t question his dance. His friend would understand that one waltz meant nothing at all, was as regular an occurrence as any other.
“I hear you were dancing with the Lady Phoebe.”
Or not.
“Yes,” Jeffrey said, gritting his teeth. “That I was. One dance. As every other gentleman dances with every other young lady. It is nothing to be particularly shocked about, nor to make any note of.”
“True,” Clarence said, standing beside him to peruse the scene in front of them. He took a sip of his drink before tilting his head toward Jeffrey. “Unless the one dancing is a marquess who avoids waltzes with young ladies of theton. And his partner is a woman who, as far as I am aware, is not particularly enamored by said marquess and is not typically found on the dance floor.”
Jeffrey snorted at that. Clarence had a point.
“She apologized,” he said by way of explanation, and now Clarence actually turned to look at him, disbelief on his face.
“One apology and you are in one another’s arms? How do you do it, Berkley? I wish I had such a way with women. You will have to teach me your skill. But tell me — you could dance with any woman in this ballroom. Most are desperate for you to even look at them. Why choose a woman who vexes you so?”
Jeffrey contemplated his words for a moment. They were true, but the issue was he himself didn’t quite know the answer. Clarence was patient, and finally Jeffrey spoke words that were as true as he could gather.
“There is something about Lady Phoebe that I cannot exactly explain,” he said. “But the very reason she captures my attention is that she is not at all like most other young women with whom I am acquainted. From what I have gathered, she is unpredictable, it is true, she holds opinions that are rather unpopular, and she is not afraid to speak of them. And yet, I find myself intrigued.”
Incredulity only grew on Clarence’s face as Jeffrey spoke, and finally the Duke shook his head.
“I cannot say I completely understand you, Berkley, but it is good to see you interested in a woman, at the very least. It has been far too long for you — at least, as far as I am aware. Nevertheless,” he tipped his drink toward him. “I myself like to know what to expect when it comes to women. I believe I will go find myself one of the young ladies whom you so despair and engage her in a dance. I will leave you to your lady of mystery.”
Unwilling to have to explain himself to yet another friend or family member, Jeffrey passed his drink to a waiting footman and perused the ballroom for a means of escape. The expansive garden doors beckoned, and he climbed the stairs before lighting his cheroot on a wall sconce and pushing open the door, the slight wind pushing at the glass door as he did so.
The fresh air, however, was cool against his skin, refreshing after the close heat of the ballroom. The early spring air nipped at him, but it would mean there would be far less possibility of running into anyone out here. He took a deep breath of the misty air, which held a hint of the rain that had been threatening all evening. Meandering down the garden path, he took a puff of his cheroot. He slowly blew out the smoke in front of him, seeing it curl through the evening air.
“I would really prefer you didn’t do that.”