“More than likely,” Fiona answered. “Alasdair kens he must nae make trouble and, with as much time as Gavin spends in London, he behaves more English than Scot, anyway.”
That was true. His uncle, the duke, rarely spent time at Inveraray. Gavin bore little trace of a Scottish burr when he spoke and had acquired English mannerisms, including the ability to lavish compliments which, according to Fiona, he did to every woman. Not thatthathad appeased Ian in the least.
“Do you think he knows we are in London?”
Fiona shrugged. “I doona ken aboutus, but word of Alasdair returning home and then leaving again must have gotten to him.”
They watched as Gavin made his way toward the Almack’s matrons who basically held court near the entrance, and he made elaborate bows to each of them. Fiona was probably right in his ability to charm, because every one of the very proper ladies was smiling at him.
The musicians struck a few warm-up notes just then, a subtle hint that dance cards needed to be filled. Fans started fluttering throughout the ballroom as debutantes tried not to look eager as the young men started moving about, asking for dances.
A tall man, whose blond hair and blue eyes made him look like a Viking warrior, approached Fiona. “I know I should wait until your chaperone returns to request an introduction, but as she is busy with her daughter and the dancing is about to commence, may I be bold?”
Fiona studied him for a minute, then smiled. “I prefer bold to being hesitant.”
His eyes glinted like sun off a glacier as he returned her smile. “Erik Taylor, at your service, Lady…?”
“’Tis just Fiona MacGregor,” she replied.
“You are Scottish? How delightful.”
“It is?”
“Of course. I find the young ladies that London Society turns out rather…um, a bit too tractable.” His tilted his head. “I suspect you might be a bit more independent?”
Fiona grinned. “Ye might say that.”
“I do admire spirit,” he said and held out his hand. “Shall we dance?” She quirked an eyebrow at Lorelei as she moved to the dance floor with him and Lorelei couldn’t help but smile. Seemingly, this Viking look-alike had piqued Fiona’s interest. She hadn’t been overly enthused about any of the men she’d danced with last week.
Lorelei looked around and spotted Alasdair and Melissa heading toward the dance floor and tried not to frown. Perhaps she should find Gavin. He’d at least offer to dance and she could find out why he was here. But then she saw he was already leading a young lady to the floor as well. She looked down at her half-full dance card and chided herself for not taking more time to circulate and fill it. She sighed. She would just have to sit this cotillion out, but she certainly didn’t want to look like a wallflower. She glanced around once more. There was an arrangement of potted plants not too far away. She could seek refuge there so she wouldn’t be seen for a few minutes.
Careful not to draw attention to herself, she made her way over to them, then stopped to scan the room once more before she stepped behind the pots. And bumped into something solid that made anumphsound. Her eyes widened as she looked up to see a man with brown hair and warm brown eyes looking down at her.
“Surely you are not planning to hide behind these plants?” he asked.
“I am not…” She let her voice trail off. Shewashiding, not that she’d admit it. “I just wanted to rest for a minute.”
One eyebrow rose. “Are there not available chairs for that?”
“Well, yes. I just wanted…” Again, she didn’t finish the sentence. A corner of the man’s mouth quirked up. Was he laughing at her? She lifted her chin. “Why areyouhiding here?”
“Touche.” The other side of his mouth lifted. “I was…observing.”
This time her eyebrow rose. “Most gentlemen are masters at standing around and observing without resorting to”—she gestured—“this.”
“Quite true, but I had my reasons.” He gave her an amiable smile. “However, since I have been found out, allow me to introduce myself. Randolph Preston.”
Lorelei nearly gaped at him. “Aren’t you the Marquess of Westwood?”
“Well, yes.” He shrugged. “Since this was a ratherunusualintroduction, I had hoped you would not recognize me if I used my childhood name and not a title.”
She supposed she couldn’t blame him for that. Most lords did not lurk behind potted plants at balls. But…this was the man Medusa—Melissa—had shunned for not being adventurous? He certainly didn’t seem timid or dull. Maybe he was there to watch Melissa? She couldn’t ask, but she did have an idea.
“I am Miss Lorelei Caldwell. I will admit that I had a reason to stay behind these plants as well.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. And I will tell you mine.” She lowered her voice even though no one could hear. “I was watching the man who is dancing with Lady Melissa Talbot.”
