Whoever this young lady was, she was certainly very forward, very willing to share her opinions and her considerations without even being asked for them.
But then again,said a quiet voice in his conscience,you share your own opinions quite readily and no one ever asks you for them either. Why should it be different for this young lady?
“As regards my name, I am Miss Bosworth. My father is Viscount Halifax, though it is my mother here with me in London at present.”
Henry glanced around in case Lady Halifax was standing near her daughter so that he might introduce himself to her as well, but there was no one else present. It was only himself and Miss Bosworth standing together in one corner of the ballroom, talking in what would appear to others to be a most discreet manner.
A flame of warning ran down his spine.
“No, my mother is not present,” Miss Bosworth sighed, rolling her eyes, and making Henry frown at such a gesture. “Ever since I have been deemed a wallflower, she seems to have decided that she should enjoy the Season and leave me to stand by the side of the room with the other wallflowers. So no, you will not find her present here, Lord Yarmouth, though the other young ladies are nearby. It is just as well that I saw you coming to talk to Lord Chamberlain! I was not certain how I would find you otherwise.”
The longer she spoke, the more Henry seemed to remember about her. He recalled the flashing of her eyes as they had danced, the firm way in which she had spoken, and then, as his eyes widened, he recalled speaking of a Miss Bosworth before they had ever had the opportunity to meet.
“You were the one who spoke to Lord Dartford!” Miss Bosworth’s expression flattened. Her lips pulled tight, her eyes narrowed just a little, and she nodded, turning her gaze away from his. “Oh, but I have been discussing you a great deal!” Henry exclaimed, making Miss Bosworth’s expression darken. “It was the reason I stepped away from another young lady, for I found her opinions much too unfavorable.”
Miss Bosworth sniffed.
“So, you speak about me as every other gentleman and lady in London has done, then? It is only that you did not know my name until this moment. No doubt, if youhadasked for my title and been given it, you would not have asked to dance with me and would have instead, gone back to the lady you were attempting to flee from instead of standing up with me.”
Hearing the tightness in her voice and seeing the gentle flush in her cheeks, Henry quickly shook his head, a little concerned now that the young lady was thinking ill of him.
“I have done nothing of the sort, Miss Bosworth. When I say I have been speaking of you, it has been to defend you.”
The narrowness of her eyes began to fade as she looked back at him.
“Is that so?”
Catching the slight tone of disbelief, Henry nodded fervently, not quite certain why he wanted her to believe him but determined to have her do so regardless.
“Yes, it is. I do not think it fair that Lord Dartford can say whatever he wishes to you and you, when you say the same thing to him, are the one pushed aside.”
Miss Bosworth tilted her head just a fraction, looking at him in silence for a few minutes, as though she had to ascertain in her own mind whether or not he could be trusted. Henry said nothing, looking into her eyes and keeping his gaze steady in the hope that she would soon believe him.
“I do agree with you.” Speaking slowly, Miss Bosworth frowned, looking away. “I am not certain why a young lady stating that she would not be drawn to a particular gentleman is any different to a gentleman saying the very same to her! Lord Dartford was very rude in his manner, and in how he spoke to me, it seemed quite right to me to return his rudeness with a similar response.”
“Though he would have been quite shocked at your audacity to do so.”
Miss Bosworth snorted and looked away.
“As was his mother, supposedly.”
Wincing, Henry sucked in a breath.
“Lady Dartford is known to be a prolific gossip.”
“Yes, so I have heard.” Miss Bosworth sighed. “And thus, I have had to deal with the consequences of treating Lord Dartford with the same disdain as he showed to me, while nothing whatsoever happens to him.”
“Something I think to bemostunfair.”
This time, when Miss Bosworth looked at him, there was no hint of distrust in her face. Instead, her expression seemed to soften and, after a few moments, she smiled.
“I think you very genuine in your remarks, Lord Yarmouth.”
“I mean every word,” he said, earnestly. “I do not think that you ought to be pushed to the back of society, living only in the shadows, and gaining nothing from all that society has to offer you. It is not fair.”
Miss Bosworth smiled and for the first time, her eyes no longer seemed sharp. Instead, they were gentle, warmth held there instead of ice, and Henry found himself smiling back.
“No, it is not fair, Lord Yarmouth, but I have no intention of doing as society dictates that I must,” she said, speaking a little more quietly now. “I am afraid I shall not be a very good wallflower.”
