“He wanted to play cards with a few friends, but in the meanwhile, I’m furthering the acquaintance of Inspector Storme.” Even though her stomach muscles clenched with anxiety, she hoped she projected an outward appearance of calm. “You remember I told you I’d met him at a Christmastide house party? He’s the son of…” Oh, devil take it. She couldn’t remember who his father was.
“I’m Viscount Doughton’s son and oldest child.” He gave her mother a half-bow from the waist. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Nattingly.”
That earned him a grudging smile from her mother, and Fanny relaxed by increments. “I remember your father. One of the Stormes, I believe.”
“He was.” The words were clipped, guarded. Did he doubt his reception with a ton function?
“Interesting man.” She nodded. “Are you here tonight for a specific purpose?”
“Mama!” Fanny hissed with heat flooding her cheeks.
William took it all in stride. “I promised my mother I’d make an appearance.”
“He’s also asked if he can pay his addresses to me,” Fanny added, and unsuccessfully hid a smug grin. “I said that he could.”
“Oh?” Her mother narrowed her eyes on Fanny. “What of Lord Wainwright?”
She shrugged. “May the best man win?” she asked with a healthy dose of excitement evident in her voice, even to her own ears. Perhaps being in William’s company again had given her a quick shot of bravery, but nothing this exciting had ever happened to her.
If she could manage to screw her courage to the sticking place, the winter would be far from dull.