They finished their second circumnavigation of the room, and she was determined it would be their last. Just as she was casting around for a reason to excuse herself, music began in the second reception room. She started. Almeria hadn’t mentioned any dancing. Where was Lucy?
Lucy had told Alice that she knew how to dance, but that she’d never been to a proper dance or a fashionable ball.Alice knew from her own experience that there was a wealth of difference between country dancing as it was done in the actual country and the way people danced country dances in society.
She scanned the room quickly. There was no sign of Lucy.
“Would you care to dance, my lady?”
She shook her head. “Thank you, no. I am here tonighten chaperone.”
“Ah, yes, the goddaughter who has so intrigued young Thornton. Looks like she’s joined the dancers in the other room. We’d better follow them in.” Before she could say a word, Alice found herself being propelled toward the second reception room, his hand lightly resting in the small of her back. “There she is, with your nephew,” Lord Tarrant murmured.
Alice made a small sound of dismay. Almeria would be furious.
Gerald and Lucy were on the dance floor, the dance quite lively, but their expressions told a different story. Lucy looked perfectly indifferent, even bored. Gerald was obviously frustrated.
“Miss Bamber doesn’t look as though she’s enjoying the dance,” Lord Tarrant said.
“She’ll be minding her steps,” Alice murmured. She hoped it was true.
“Our hostess looks even unhappier about it,” Lord Tarrant observed.
Alice followed his gaze. Almeria stood at the side of the dance floor, glaring at her son and Lucy. Almeria swung her gaze around the room, fixed it on Alice, standing at the entrance, and stalked toward her.
“Oh dear,” Alice murmured.
Lord Tarrant glanced down at her. “Trouble on the way?”
“I’m afraid so.” Alice took a deep breath and braced herself for Almeria’s tirade.
“Right then.” Lord Tarrant took Alice by the hand and, without warning, swung her into a nearby set of dancers.
“What on earth?” she gasped. But the dancers around them happily adjusted to an extra couple in the set.
He swung her around masterfully. “Do you dislike dancing?”
“No, but—”
He twirled her in a circle, and she was too breathless to speak.
The top couple danced down the row, and everyone clapped to the beat. After a quick glance at Almeria, fulminating on the sidelines, Alice clapped along obediently.
“I told you I had no intention of dancing tonight,” she told Lord Tarrant when they met in the next movement. Almeria would be even more furious now, imagining that Alice had deliberately thrown Gerald and Lucy together. And was now avoiding her.
“I know, but the situation called for action,” he said solemnly. His eyes gleamed with amusement.
She snorted. “Action?”
“Retreat and regroup—an old army tactic. Avoid a confrontation unless you can be sure of winning.”
“Since when is dancing an army tactic?”
“Oh, Wellington is all for dancing—all his staff officers were excellent dancers. It’s a very healthful—and strategic—exercise,” he said with a virtuous air that fooled her not at all.
She wanted to laugh, but she didn’t want to encourage him.
“Besides,” he added as they came together again, “did you really want to stay and listen to whatever that woman has to say to you? She looks ready to explode.”
Alice didn’t, of course, but Almeria would say her piece eventually. She always did.
