and connections to the Duke of Worthington.”
“Exactly,” she said with a smile. “Accept the boon your late father gave you. Many dukes would never have claimed their bastard, even if it was done at his death.”
He supposed the older lady was right. While he known for years that he was the duke’s son, it wasn’t until the man passed that he claimed Simon by leaving him a fortune in his will. “I will dance at least once tonight, ma’am.”
“Of course you will,” she said before strolling away.
“I suppose we had better do as she says, or God knows what she will do,” Ainsley commented as he picked up his winnings.
Simon nodded. Lady Leicester had a reputation for calling out people, no matter their rank, if she felt they deserved a good tongue lashing. She wasn’t called the Dragon of Mayfair without cause.
Following Ainsley into the ballroom, he instantly wished he had stayed in the gaming room. Their entrance moved the gaze of several young ladies toward them. Upon further note, he realized most of the looks focused on Ainsley. An earl with a fortune to inherit was a far better option than a bastard like him. Ignoring the innocent stares, he concentrated on who he might know in the room.
His gaze stopped on one lovely blonde who was far too off-limits for anything more than a glance. But after looking around the room, he settled back on Miss Emma Drake. With golden hair and blue eyes, Louisa’s sister stayed on the outskirts of the room with a slight furrow to her brows as if in deep contemplation. Simon couldn’t look away as she scanned the room, but for whom?
To his knowledge, she had no suitors, not that he kept track of that, but Louisa tended to bemoan her sister’s situation. What had Miss Drake in such a serious mood this evening?
She tilted her head and leaned closer to her friend, whispering something. Miss Susan Lancaster said something in return. His curiosity engaged, he wondered what would have Miss Lancaster gesturing so animatedly. He leaned against the wall, now thoroughly engrossed in seeing this silent drama to its end.
Miss Drake moved away from her friend and headed toward the refreshment table. He would love to move in that same direction if for nothing else than to fluster her. Watching her color rise when Simon spoke to her always intrigued him. Instead, he stayed in his position and watched as she neared the table...and Mr. August Simpson. Clenching his jaw, Simon watched her speak with Mr. Simpson.
Simpson took her outstretched gloved hand and kissed the top of it. Simon could think of no one in her acquaintance who would have presented her to that man. Had she just introduced herself to one of the worst defilers of innocents in Society? Miss Drake would never make such a social blunder.
Simon watched Simpson escort Miss Drake to the dance floor. This shouldn’t trouble him. Miss Drake was nothing to him. Except, she was Louisa’s sister. And while he had never bothered with family before now, Louisa had accepted him as her brother-in-law without question. With her assistance Harry and Simon grew closer, inviting him to dine with them quite often. He supposed he owed her to watch out for her younger sister.
Miss Drake must be warned about the man with whom she danced. Slowly, he made his way to the edge of the dance floor as the couples moved to the beat of the music. The damned set was taking far too long. Who knew what disreputable things Simpson might be saying to her?
Simon gulped the remainder of his brandy as he continued to watch them. Nothing on her face indicated her disapproval of Simpson. She smiled up at her dance partner as if she had no idea of the man’s reputation.
As the music ended, he breathed a sigh of relief that Miss Drake had ended up closer to his side of the floor. He snaked through the crowd, keeping his sights on her golden curls.
Reaching the couple as they walked off the dance floor, he called out, “Miss Drake, I do believe this is our dance.”
Her expression turned from a smile to a frown of irritation as she noticed who had called out to her. Color rose on her cheeks as Simpson leaned in closer to her ear. She gave him an annoyed wave and walked toward Simon.
“Mr. Kingsley,” she said with a quick curtsy. “I do not remember agreeing to a dance