The Taming of Ryder Cavanaugh (Cynster #20) - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,10
in Ryder’s case, a lion of the ton, but the same framework applied—their preferred source of paramours was the bored matrons of the ton, women of their own class who understood society’s restrictions and the rules pertaining to such illicit affairs.
“I suppose he has to find them somewhere, and there was certainly a good selection of bored matrons at those events, but there shouldn’t be quite the same crowd at Lady Castlemaine’s tonight—that will be more a matchmakers’ gathering—so with any luck, Ryder won’t be there, and I’ll be able to get a clear tilt at Randolph.” Without the distraction of his overpowering older brother. “Half brother. Regardless of what Ryder thinks, Randolph’s nothing like him.”
Encouraged by her deductions, she reviewed the possible opportunities the Castlemaine House event might offer in terms of getting Randolph alone.
“We’ll be somewhere over there.” Pausing on the steps leading down to Lady Castlemaine’s ballroom, Portia waved toward the far end of the room, then glanced back at Mary, on the step behind her. “Come and find us if you need us.”
Already engaged in quartering the room, Mary merely hmmed.
Beside Portia, Amelia flicked open her fan and plied it vigorously. “Yes, indeed! That’s where we’ll be. It’s already so stuffy, but at least the windows at that end are open.” She, too, glanced back at Mary. “You know the ropes. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t have done at your age, and we’ll come and find you when we’re ready to leave.”
Having located Randolph, once again standing in a circle composed of his male friends and several young ladies, Mary nodded. “Yes. All right.”
She followed Amelia and Portia down the steps, then turned in the opposite direction and plunged into the crowd. Nearing Randolph’s group, she paused and looked around. Spotting another young lady eyeing the same group, she smiled and glided over, introduced herself, and after a short exchange sufficient to establish their common backgrounds and their common cause, she and the young lady—a Miss Melchett—linked arms and strolled over to join the conversation.
By exploiting the angle of their approach, Mary ensured that, as the circle obligingly expanded to accommodate them, she fetched up by Randolph’s side.
Her immediate objective achieved, she waited patiently for George Richards to complete the story he’d been telling—yet another tale of the hunt and horses. Immediately he’d received the expected accolades from his friends, along with rather weaker applause from the young ladies, Mary fixed her gaze on Colette Markham, directly across the circle and, if Mary was any judge, with her eye on Randolph’s friend Grayson Manners, and inquired, “Has anyone seen the new play at the Theatre Royal?”
Colette met Mary’s eyes and leapt in to remark, “I had heard it was the best theatrical event of this Season.” She turned to Grayson, beside her. “Have you seen it, Mr. Manners?”
As luck would have it, Grayson had. Under Colette’s and Mary’s encouraging tutelage he was induced to give a detailed description of the play. Immediately he concluded, Miss Melchett chimed in with her experience of the competing offering at the Haymarket.
Mary glanced at Randolph, caught his eye, and smiled. Under cover of the others’ conversation, she murmured, “Are you fond of the theater, Lord Randolph?”
“Ah . . . well.” Randolph’s eyes widened fractionally. “I’m not sure I’ve had enough experience of it to judge—well, most of my plays have been viewed from the pit, so it’s not quite the same thing, is it? I daresay, in a few years, I’ll grow quite partial to it—the more formal play-going, I mean.”
Mary kept her smile in place. “But what of the plays themselves? Do you prefer Shakespeare or the work of more recent playwrights?”
Randolph’s eyes widened even more. “Ah . . .”
From across the ballroom, Lavinia, Marchioness of Raventhorne, watched her son conversing semiprivately with Mary Cynster, and smiled approvingly.
Seeing that smile, Lady Eccles, beside whom Lavinia was presently standing, followed Lavinia’s gaze, then her ladyship arched her brows. “Well, my dear—that is a development.”
“Indeed.” Lavinia glanced at Lady Eccles’s face, noted her ladyship’s suitably impressed expression. “It’s really very gratifying. They spent time together last evening, and clearly all is progressing favorably. They make quite a couple, do they not?”
“And, not to put too fine a point on it, such an alliance will greatly aid your Randolph.” Lady Eccles glanced inquiringly at Lavinia. “I don’t suppose you had any hand in bringing the two together?”
Lavinia chuckled. “I might admit to a very small prod here, an almost imperceptible push there.