said.
“It won’t be the same if Cassandra isn’t there.”
“It won’t be the same, but it will be interesting,” Alice said. “Of that I’m sure.”
Midsummer night. The shortest night of the year. For Ashmont, it turned out to be the longest.
As predicted, Miss Pomfret didn’t come, and he had what seemed like ten thousand duty dances, beginning with his hostess. He wasn’t used to respectable gatherings, and he needed a clear head to keep all the old, half-forgotten rules in the front of his mind. In other words, getting drunk was out of the question.
He managed, somehow. What mattered was, he and Olympia settled the important issues, and she went back to Ripley looking relieved, while Ashmont went on to his next partner, knowing he’d been forgiven.
He danced with Alice, Lady Charles, and a few other matrons. On this occasion, the matrons vastly outnumbered the misses, and nobody was mad enough to try to matchmake. The ladies, it turned out, were as cautious about him as he was about them, which was rather amusing.
But he got through the evening without getting into trouble, and the following day, shortly after noon, his uncle called at Ashmont House to express his approval, an unheard-of event.
“You survived an entire evening during which you must have been very bored,” Uncle Fred said.
“Don’t know if the word bored is strong enough.”
“Yet you never put a foot wrong.”
Ashmont stared at him. Uncle Fred always found fault. Saints and martyrs would have their work cut out for them, trying to pass his inspection.
“You sure?” Ashmont said.
His uncle nodded. “Well done. I believe it will grow easier in time.”
“In time? What?”
“You’ve taken the first step in making yourself acceptable to a respectable young woman. And her family.”
“Being bored witless?”
“The news will be all over London over the course of the next few days,” his uncle said. “It will cast your prank on Thursday in a new light. I despaired of you then.”
Ashmont hadn’t followed instructions. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to do.
“Now I allow myself to hope you’re not altogether a lost cause,” Uncle Fred went on. “It is absurd, certainly, but you are often absurd. In any event, I cannot fault your taste.”
Sometimes Uncle Fred could be painfully clear. At others, he talked in riddles.
“Do you refer to Miss Pomfret?”
“Who else?”
“What’s absurd?”
“Your apparently miraculous recovery from the events of last week.”
Ashmont hadn’t recovered. Forgiven or not, he was still troubled about the duel. His conversation with Olympia when they danced had made him feel ashamed. He’d chased her and done everything he could to win her over.
He’d wanted her, or so he’d believed, but now he wasn’t at all sure what he’d wanted. A wife. Because Blackwood had one and Ashmont didn’t want to be the last one of them to marry? Was that it? And there she’d been. Pretty. And she’d been kind and treated him . . . like a brother.
But he’d been oblivious to what she wanted or truly thought.
If he’d won in the end, and she’d married him . . .
He would have made her unhappy.
The thought being unpleasant, he shoved it to the back of his mind, a crowded place.
He’d no sooner stowed Olympia in the mental lumber room than Miss Pomfret strode to the forefront of his mind: the steady grey gaze with its occasional glint of silver, the soft mouth, the clear, self-assured voice . . . the smooth skin, the fresh scent of herbs, the modest dress, with its layers of armor, that she’d worn at the fancy fair.
This was bothersome, in an entirely different way.
He remembered her stepping over him when he lay on the ground, her skirts barely—just barely—brushing his trousers.
He’d made the mistake of grabbing her and she’d nearly killed him.
Where had she learnt to fight like that?
The point she’d given him, because of Keeffe.
So many riddles, so much to discover about her.
His uncle broke into the crowd of recollections. “You may wish to go out of London for a time,” he said.
“Now?”
“Now would be best.”
“And let the other fellows steal a march on me?” Ashmont said. “Don’t think so. As it is—”
“If I detect signs of another gentleman’s interest in the lady, I’ll notify you forthwith. In the meantime, I ask you to take a fortnight to be absolutely certain you wish to follow this course. You will make a better impression on the lady as well as her father. You cannot count on Lady Charles to take your part. She has been kinder to