her lovely new wardrobe of gowns.
“Did you enjoy your first ball, Jo?” her father asked as they passed through shadowy streets, which appeared magical, lit by the gas lamps. “Yes, Papa. It was exciting.” Although no man she danced with interested her, and one had made disparaging remarks about her being a country lass.
Jo knew exactly what she wanted in a husband. He would be attractive, rather like the gentleman in the black coach, but more importantly, a caring companion with whom she could share life’s joys and toils.
“Mrs. Millet proves to be a remarkably efficient woman. She has been spreading the news of your handsome dowry,” Papa said. “But I shall assess any gentleman carefully.” He smiled at her. “It will be a very special man who deserves my daughter.”
“Oh, Papa.” Jo smiled and leaned against his shoulder, which smelled of pipe smoke. It was all very well to dream, but the thought of an actual flesh and blood suitor caused her stomach to flip. “I hope I don’t disappoint you.”
“As if you could.” Her father placed an arm around her. “It was fortunate that Mrs. Millet not only recommended the dressmaker but forwarded your measurements to her on our behalf. Such a helpful lady.” Her father’s voice had grown warm. Jo glanced up at him, but in the dim interior of the carriage, she could not make out his expression. Was he growing fond of Mrs. Millet? Jo wasn’t sure what she thought of that.
“I met the nicest lady tonight,” she said, yawning behind her gloved hand. “Mrs. Letitia Cartwright. Letty was very helpful.” Her father had not noticed the changes to her dress.
“Making friends already. That’s my girl,” Papa said with a fond chuckle.
And there was a handsome gentleman with hair as black as coal, Jo thought sleepily. However, she didn’t say it aloud.
Earlier, Reade had watched Letty talking to the red-haired angel he’d seen a few days prior on his way into London.
“You appear acquainted with the lady in green,” Reade said when Letty joined him and Cartwright.
Letty narrowed her eyes at him, a smile curling her lips. “Only in passing. Not well enough to introduce you.”
“Your wife does not wish me to meet the lady,” Reade complained to her husband.
Brandon shrugged. “She considers you too disreputable, Reade.”
Reade laughed. “And so, I am. But what of it? Surely a dance with the pretty redhead is harmless enough?”
“Nothing about you is harmless, Reade,” Letty said, a smile teasing her lips. “You are so often in my husband’s company, I believe I have your measure.”
“Ho,” Reade said, enjoying himself. “I am merely putty in a lady’s hands.”
The laughter faded in Letty’s eyes. “Miss Dalrymple is fresh from the country and has yet to learn Society’s ways. I beg that you will be kind.”
He took umbrage at that. “I am never unkind to a lady.”
“But we are discussing innocent young maidens. They come to London to find a husband, not to have their heads turned by a…a…” She paused as Brandon’s murmured disapproval censured her.
“A rake?” Reade filled in the word for her. He frowned. “I am intensely unhappy you think me thus.”
Letty took his arm. “I do not think you a rake, Reade. I merely consider you unsuitable.”
“As indeed, I am. And while I bow to your better judgment in this matter, one dance will not compromise the young lady. If you’ll kindly introduce me.” Reade turned to where the young woman in green had been sitting. It appeared she and her family had left the ballroom. “Ah, I fear she has retired. Next time?”
Letty relented with a sigh. “If you wish. But you will unsettle her.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How should I?”
“She will unfairly compare you to the other gentleman seeking a bride this Season,” she said.
“And an insipid lot most of them are,” Brandon said as he placed his champagne glass on a footman’s tray.
“I am overwhelmed,” Reade said with a chuckle.
“It is something you and Cartwright both have. An aura. You fascinate women.”
“She is very loyal, my bride,” Cartwright said with a laugh. “Shall we concentrate on the reason we are here at this appalling affair?” he asked Reade.
“I thought as much.” Letty raised her eyebrows. “What is the reason we have come to this ball? I detest our host.”
“Nothing to concern yourself with, my love.” Brandon bowed. “If you will excuse us.”
Letty gave a slight bob. “I shall, my lord, as we can talk later.”
Her husband cocked a brow. “I might not have talk