though she calmly waited for Jovis to open the dining room door. A sudden quiet descended upon the room.
“The Viscountess St. Ryne!” announced Jovis stentorianly.
Elizabeth, her head held high, the candlelight glowing on her like liquid gold, glided into the room. St. Ryne slowly rose from his chair, a mingled expression of disbelief, chagrin, and love all on his face. He slowly circled the table to her side.
The cry “A hit! A hit!” swept the room.
“You sent for me?” she asked softly, her heart touched by his expression.
“Yes, my love, and I thank you. I am unworthy of you or your care.” He raised her hand up, turned it gently over, and planted a kiss on her palm. A flurry of catcalls and whistles greeted his gesture, but Elizabeth was deaf to their sound. She curled her fingers into her palm as if to hold on to his kiss. He put his arm around her waist. “Gentlemen,” he said, turning to the table, “enough jests and tests. It is time we joined the ladies.”
With alacrity, Branstoke rose, encouraging the gentlemen to do so as well. “I think, St. Ryne,” he drawled, “we all could do much worse than to follow your lead. Gentlemen, the ladies await.”
Elizabeth allowed herself to be conducted from the dining room while maintaining a gracious manner. This attitude was severely tested as one after another of the gentlemen made their way to Justin’s side to clap him on the shoulder and offer congratulations along with sly winks and thinly veiled innuendos. Question after question leapt to her mind, all crowding forward to be asked but she held her tongue, smiling graciously at all. Imagined answers also came forward with painful clarity, answers she wished to ignore for if they were the truth, then her fragile happiness would shatter, it being born into her that perhaps her entire marriage stemmed from bets made over cards and cups for sport.
Valiantly she tried to deny her foreboding, her smile becoming brittle as she watched gentlemen approach knots of ladies, whisper in shell-like ears until their auditors turned to stare at her with snickers and swallowed laughter.
Slowly, like grains of sand in an hourglass, Elizabeth’s euphoric happiness eroded to be replaced by a gripping fear. She thought she had been on the verge of ultimate happiness; still, she was no longer the impetuous, ill-mannered young woman determined to strike a blow first before one could be leveled at her. She would not overreact. She would uncover the truth.
Somehow she made it gracefully through the interminable hour she stood by her sister and father in the receiving line before the ball. When she was excused, she fled to the refreshment table for a glass of punch and an opportunity to clear her head. Her temples throbbed slightly. She placed a cool hand on one side to massage away the pain. Her spirits rose as she saw St. Ryne leave a small contingent of his cronies to come to her side. She smiled wanly up at him.
“Bess!” he cried, taking her hands in his and leading her to an empty alcove. “Are you feeling all right? You look pale.” He searched her white strained features, concern evident in his eyes.
She settled onto the sofa with obvious relief. The mere thread of a laugh escaped her lips. “Too long standing, too many people, and stuffy air have all taken their toll on me. I shall recover directly,” she assured him, touched by his solicitude.
“May I get you anything?”
“I was intending to get something to drink. If you could—” she trailed off.
“Of course, my love.” He strode away with purposeful strides.
Freddy, standing at the edge of the dance floor while another lost suitor claimed a dance, wandered over to Elizabeth’s corner.
“Saw St. Ryne hurrying off. Nothing wrong is there, ma’am?”
She held out her hand. “Call me Elizabeth, please! It wouldn’t do for a brother to be too formal, would it?”
He laughed and, pushing the tails of his elegant coat back to avoid crushing them, sank down on the sofa beside her. “Stab me but you’ve got the right of it, and since I’m in the way of being a brother, you can tell me truthfully, did you and Justin plan that dining room coup?” He shook his head, chuckling. “If you did, I don’t begrudge the sum I dropped. Should have known Justin wouldn’t back a loser. Truth is, shouldn’t have doubted him that month and more past when the fellows all were bettin’