“A pleasure, Miss Bronson,” Morgan said with a nod.
“Miss Bronson and I volunteered at the Foundling Hospital today.”
“Ah, so this is the new friend my sister has been talking so much about. It truly is a pleasure.”
Miss Bronson blushed and cast her eyes down. “I’m grateful to have made her acquaintance. I think we have much in common.”
“I’m sure.”
After a moment, Joan turned to Morgan and widened her eyes while touching her dance card. Morgan studied her for a second before turning to her friend.
“Miss Bronson, I’d be honored to have a dance. Do you have any available?” Morgan asked.
Joan couldn’t help the satisfied look that spread across her face when she noted Miss Bronson’s clear pleasure at being asked.
“Yes, of course. I only recently arrived so my card is quite open, my lord.”
Joan covered her mouth with a gloved hand.
“A reel, then.” Morgan selected the dance and gave a swift bow. “I’ll let you two ladies converse.” He turned and walked toward a circle of gentlemen, and Joan gave a finger wave to the Duchess of Wesley, who was standing nearby.
“I must say I’m very much looking forward to the reel,” Miss Bronson said with excitement in her tone. “It was very kind of your brother to ask me.”
“Of course, and he’s a lovely dancer,” Joan added, watching the spark in Miss Bronson’s eyes grow.
Did she perhaps have a tendre for Morgan? A matchmaking intrigue flashed through Joan’s mind before she pushed it away. “And how was the rest of your afternoon?” she asked Miss Bronson.
“A little dull. We arrived late to the season so our at-home hours have been a little lean, if you gather my meaning.”
“I’m sorry.” Joan patted her hand.
“It will get better. Sometimes you only need a little attention,” Miss Bronson said bravely. “And a dance with your brother certainly won’t hinder prospects. Rather, it could very well increase them. Don’t men always want something they think others already found valuable? It’s not the most poetic and romantic gesture, but if it draws attention, it can’t be too terrible. We must use what we can.” Miss Bronson gave a firm nod.
Joan’s brows rose. “Indeed. But remember that worth is so much more than a mere man’s opinion.”
“Of course, of course,” Miss Bronson replied emphatically. “But if I’m to find a husband this season, I won’t discount any help.”
“I understand.”
“Have you found any suitor exceptional so far?” Miss Bronson asked, her tone low.
Joan bit her lip, her mind immediately conjuring up an image of Rowles, but the picture was colored in shades of confusion. She was well aware of her own feelings, but trying to decipher his was utterly disorienting.
Joan decided to give the truth but to a broader scope. “I’ve had several callers, most of whom are agreeable, but I find I can only talk of hounds and horses for so long before I wish for more enticing conversation.” She shrugged. “But I do not mean to complain; I’m only making an observation.”
“I understand. Though I don’t have the same problem currently, I can imagine how it would be dull to discuss things that you find less than interesting,” Miss Bronson replied. “So no offers of yet?”
“No. But the season is still very new.”
“Indeed. Anything could happen, and I’m quite thrilled to be a part of it, rather than hear about it from theTattleror gossip. It’s much more exciting to see it with your own eyes, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I agree,” Joan replied. “What about you? I know you’ve only recently arrived, but has any gentleman caught your eye?” she asked.
Miss Bronson blushed. “I thought your brother excessively handsome, but I am not pinning my hopes on a mere introduction,” she said demurely. “I hope to fill my dance card with gentlemen who will hopefully call tomorrow, and perhaps I’ll have an answer to your question by next week.” She giggled, a soft and delicate sound. “Much can happen in a week, can it not?”
“True.” Joan was caught up in Miss Bronson’s enthusiasm. The music for the reel started up, and Miss Bronson turned expectantly toward Morgan, who was still conversing. Joan watched as he excused himself and came to collect Miss Bronson for the dance. As Joan watched them depart, her delight was dampened by the arrival of her own dance partner, Lord Blackwood.
He offered his hand. “May I?”