Before Anthony could respond, she swept away with Lady Anna, the two of them moving swiftly across the ballroom.
“I feel vaguely as though we have been abandoned,” Lady Rose said.
Anthony chuckled. “It does feel that way. Well, I suppose I am to find you a suitor. Is there any particular gentleman who has caught your fancy?”
“None yet,” Lady Rose said.
Anthony clasped his hands behind his back and surveyed the crowd again. He found Lady Bridget quite easily. Anthony drew in a sharp breath, as he watched her dance with Lord Thornton. Her every move was delicate and feminine, from how she raised her hand to the way her hips moved just so as she turned.
Anthony dug his nails into his palms, imagining it was his hand guiding Lady Bridget through the steps of the dance rather than Lord Thornton’s. He imagined his fingers gliding along the fine fabric of her dress, so thin that he would be able to feel the warmth of her skin through the material. Perhaps he could even tease her or utter something to make that beautiful flush return to her face.
The song ended, and Lord Thornton escorted Lady Bridget from the dance floor. Anthony found himself walking in their direction, driven by the need to intercede. He would ask the lady for a dance. His blood roared in his ears, and he clenched his jaw at how Lord Thornton kept his hand at the small of Lady Bridget’s back. It was a casual gesture. There was nothing inappropriate about it, and yet that small touch made something within Anthony burn brightly.
“Have you found someone for me?” Lady Rose asked, oblivious to the sudden heat that overcame him.
Lady Rose, of course, ought to be his priority. Anthony tried to steady himself and to turn his attention toward the lords of the ton, many of whom would be exceptional matches for his cousin, but he could not. Wherever he turned his head, he longed to let his attention return once more to Lady Bridget.
Glass shattered, accompanied by a lady’s startled yell, and Anthony turned at once toward the direction of the sound. Once more, his gaze landed on Lady Bridget. His first,instinctive thought was that Lord Thornton must have hurt her somehow, but a quick glance revealed that the lady was unharmed. The same could not be said of her sodden gown and the shattered glasses at her feet.
“Let us ensure that your friend is well,” Anthony said, the words emerging in a breathless rush.
With every step, the scene unfolded before Anthony as if he were watching a play. A young servant, bearing an empty tray, stammered out apologies as Lord Thornton’s face grew redder.
“You oaf! Are you blind?” the marquess shouted. “Look at what you have done to Lady Bridget’s gown!”
“I am terribly sorry for—”
“Are you?” Lord Thornton snapped. “You are not sorry enough. I do not think!”
“My lord,” Lady Bridget said, “I am certain it was an accident—”
“That hardly matters! Your gown is ruined from his negligence!”
“And I will purchase her another one,” Anthony said firmly.
Everyone’s gazes suddenly snapped to him. The sound of shattering glass and Lord Thornton’s raised voice had drawn an audience. Lady Bridget seemed to realize it, too, for her cheeks pinkened and her eyes swept anxiously about the crowd. The poor lady looked as though she would rather be anywhere else.
“Accidents happen,” Anthony continued evenly. “This is a night of celebration and revelry. Surely there is no need to be so upset by a man’s mistake. You should let things be.”
“It is not your place to tell me what I should do,” the Marquess of Thornton said stiffly.
Anthony hummed. “No? I do believe we are in my house, are we not?”
Lord Thornton scowled. “Then I shall speak to Her Grace about her incompetent staff!” he snapped.
The Marquess of Thornton stormed away, the crowd parting to make way for him. It seemed as though no one wanted to chance the lord’s fury turning toward them.
“I hope this does not ruin the night!” Anthony exclaimed, raising his voice.
The ton slowly fell into their own conversations, whispering excitedly about the incident. Anthony glanced at the hapless servant.
“It could have happened to anyone,” he said. “See that the glass is cleaned up, and all will be well. I promise.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
That was one matter settled. Now he just had to appease the lady. Anthony turned just in time to see Lady Bridget slip through the doors leading to the balcony before she vanished entirely from view.
Anthony glanced at Lady Rose, but her attention had been captured by Lady Anna and an older woman whom Anthony suspected was the Duchess of Norfolk. He supposed the task of comforting Lady Bridget fell upon him, then.
