away from London. I want to go there, Nathan, and spend the remainder of the season with them.” Until that moment, she hadn’t realized just how much she missed her aunt and cousins. “And I want to take Dimity with me.”
“Don’t be foolish; we cannot protect you from there.”
“It is not foolish!”
“Problem?” The words came from Gabe behind them. Nathan waved them away.
“You cannot leave London in the middle of the season, and that is the end of this matter.”
She shot him a look and saw his jaw was clenched. His hair was carelessly ruffled, as Nathan tended to be the brother who ran his hand through his locks when he was thinking.
“I want to leave, but I will return next year older and wiser. Perhaps then I will be able to close my eyes to your behavior and the whispers and innuendos.”
“We don’t behave badly!”
“You do, and regularly. I know you gamble—”
“But never seriously, and only with money we can afford to lose.”
“And that makes it better, does it?”
“Why is it you feel the need to censure us constantly now?”
“Someone has to mold you into better men. Besides, you censure me constantly and watch my every move.”
“The Earl of Raine, Lady Abigail Deville, Mr. Deville, Mr. Michael Deville, and Mr. Zachriel Deville.”
“At least that shut you up,” Nathanial muttered.
Abby greeted their hosts, then followed her brothers into the ballroom. The noise of music, chatter, and laughter was everywhere. Servants circulated among the primped and pampered guests with silver salvers filled with champagne. Jewels sparkled in the hair of women and around their pale necks.
“What poor unsuspecting gaggle of women would you like me to deposit you with, sister?”
“I don’t need you to deposit me anywhere. I can make my own way.”
“I liked you better when you just agreed with us,” Nathan muttered.
She turned to him and smiled; it did not reach her eyes. “I may have appeared that way, but the truth is rarely what you see.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He glared at her.
“You have an excellent evening, Nathan. Now try to dance with some of the young ladies who line the walls just once. It is not easy for them.” She walked away.
“I don’t think so.” Zach’s arm appeared, and it was with reluctance Abby put her hand on it. “Now, where is it we are going?”
She had many acquaintances, yet not a great many friends. She saw one and headed in that direction. Miss Mary Blake was standing alone watching the dancers. She did not like the other Blake women overly much, but Mary had a dry wit that made Abby laugh.
“Must we?” Zach had realized where they were heading.
“Mary is my friend, and as you are escorting me, it is there we will go.”
“She’s annoying.”
“Surely there is not a woman in London who can withstand your charm, brother?”
“She rattles on about paintings and books and other boring things.”
“And that challenges you because she uses big words?”
She heard his teeth snap together, but he didn’t reply, as they were nearing Mary.
“Do not let that idiot near me again.” Mary grabbed Abby’s arm and pulled her close. “He told me my cheeks were like rosy apples. Oh, hello.” She shot Zach a look.
“Good evening, Miss Blake.” He bowed. “Please allow me to compliment you on your rosy cheeks.”
Mary ignored him and focused on Abby.
“That man is annoying.”
“Of course he is; he’s my brother.”
“He’s always annoying, but I did not mean him.” Mary waved Zach away as if he wasn’t standing there looking handsome, which he was. Abby could admit that. He wore a waistcoat of black with pale blue stripes that looked wonderful with his black jacket.
She’d noticed Zach and Mary seemed to irritate each other on the rare occasions they conversed.
“Who then?”
“Mr. Dupont and his silly moustache which he twirls.”
“Most women are enamored with the man, although I understand your comment about the moustache. Extremely irritating.”
“I am not most women, Mr. Deville.” Mary looked at Zach again. Her long blonde hair was confined in a bun, and she had a clasp of feathers and pearls pinned to the side of her head. Abby had always thought her pretty, if a little overburdened with flounces and ruffles and other adornments as all the Blake women often were.
“Did you see that painting as you entered, Abigail? The one of the house in the country?”
“I did, and it was lovely.” Abby stepped to Mary’s side so she could keep her eyes on the ballroom in case anyone approached