“I don’t know what I would do without you, Charlotte. I owe you.”
“Good.” She suddenly sprang forward and put down her drink. “Because I need you to take me to Almack’s on Wednesday.”
Will groaned. “Not dancing! Can I not be done with society?”
“You can be done with one member of society—if you insist. But not all of it. Imagine how dull you would become.”
“You know you can go to Almack’s on your own. Plenty of ladies do.”
“Not one of my countenance and standing. I need you to fend off the opportunists. The ladies who go there alone are generally looking for something that I am not. It is somewhat difficult for a gentleman to know the difference.”
He had still not said yes.
“Come now, Will. What harm could it do? A lady needs a little distraction.”
The Almack’s Club was in St James’, and Wednesday was the evening of the weekly ball. The ton season was still in full swing, so it was packed with all the members of high society presently in favor with the Almack’s patronesses. The assembly rooms guarded its exclusivity with a draconian admittance policy which could see one let in one week but then excluded the next, with no explanation given. Even dukes and earls had found themselves barred if they so much as crossed the ladies who ran it. Fortunately, the countess was much loved by them all and never denied a visit, and Will was pretty sure they let him in because he was an eligible bachelor who might choose to marry one of the pretty young girls presently being squired around the dance floor by a procession of ardent admirers. Will assumed that as long as he didn’t marry, they would continue to welcome him.
Lady Cowper, who was the least despotic of her fellow patronesses, rushed forward as Will and Charlotte entered the club.
“Lady Denbigh, Mr. Browning, how wonderful to see you. It has been too long.”
Not long enough, Will thought. He found the whole concept of these marriage markets distasteful.
Will took Charlotte’s arm and led her gently forward.
“Lady Cowper!” Will inclined his head.
“Mr. Browning!” Her eyes twinkled back at him. Will did not doubt that she had been quite a catch in her day.
He pushed aside the heavy red velvet curtain to gain access to the sumptuous and loud dancing room. A Scotch Reel was being played by eight musicians from the mezzanine balcony between the two floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the square. The windows had massive swag pelmets that were illuminated by four huge candelabras that were trembling from the vibration of hundreds of people stamping and twirling.
Will installed Charlotte at a table and went to secure them both a glass of punch. He was aware of many female eyes upon him as he returned to the countess.
“After all this time, they cannot work out if you are taken or not,” Charlotte laughed.
“That’s the way I prefer it,” he said.
Will was able to scan the room from his seated position. Almack's was one of the city's few social clubs that allowed men and women to mix freely. The dance floor was packed with the ladies who were out that season, and the men who were dancing for them, but also with watchful mamas, aunts and cousins, and older men showcasing their fortunes and titles to any woman who would listen; plying their luck.
“I don’t know why you like it here,” Will said ruefully.
“I just find it so wonderfully gay, don’t you?”
“Not really.” He sipped his punch.
“All these bright young things with such important decisions to make, with all their lives ahead of them.” Charlotte’s eyes were shining as she looked around the room. “I met Alexander here, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know that,” Will said, turning to look at her. She so rarely mentioned the Earl of Denbigh.
“He was another one everyone turned to look at. My sisters were so jealous that he chose me. He was by far the most capable dancer on the dance floor, and we met here every week that season.”
So that was why she loved it here so much, Will thought.
For a while, they sat in companionable silence, she watching the dancers and no doubt remembering being whisked around the floor in her handsome beau's arms, and he wondering how many men had led Rose around this same floor, held her, touched her, and maybe even kissed her.
“Right!” Will slammed his empty punch glass down on the table and stood up. He extended his hand to Charlotte. “Dance with me.”
His sudden movement had made her jump. She was staring up at him in surprise.