Beatrice realized that dancing was not something Papa had ever had an interest in, and wondered where and how he had learned so quickly. He performed very well, she thought, and she hoped that the countess appreciated his efforts.
As they progressed through the dance she saw that Lord Crenshaw was dancing with Miss Wilson. The two were spending a significant amount of time together, which was worrisome. What could she do to warn the girl without betraying Lord Jess’s confidence?
The others were also paired as one would expect. Destry made Cecilia laugh each time they came together, and Lord Jess had already made a conquest of one of the young lady neighbors whose name Beatrice could not recall.
As they left the floor, Papa held her back a moment. “Watch yourself, young lady.”
“Yes, Papa,” she answered with as demure a curtsy as she could manage, and then turned to find Lord Destry behind her, asking for the next dance.
“It’s going to be a waltz and I much prefer to dance with someone my own size or I will look ridiculous.”
“Which is not a very gracious way of explaining why you wish me for a partner, but since I feel the same about dancing in the arms of a tall man like Lord Jess I will make no complaint.”
Destry made one of his elaborate bows to her as the music started and the two of them set themselves in position for the dance, far enough apart to be decorous but as close as the dance dictated.
They moved quietly to the music until Beatrice noticed Lord Jess’s dancing partner.
“Lord Jess is dancing with Miss Wilson.”
Destry looked their way. “And appears to be having a serious conversation with her.”
“Where is Lord Crenshaw?” Beatrice asked.
“Dancing with Mrs. Wilson,” he answered, his voice sounding just as worried as she felt.
“Do you think Lord Jess is telling her about Lord Crenshaw’s,” she paused, trying to be discreet, “about his misdeeds?”
“What misdeeds would those be, Miss Brent?” Destry asked with a narrow-eyed interest.
“Um, his evil deeds,” she answered with some exasperation. “The way he treated his first wife.” She finally decided to be blunt. “Lord Jess told me the story.”
“He did?” It took Destry several turns to adjust to the bit of news, and as they danced Beatrice kept her eyes fixed on Jess and Miss Wilson. She looked intense and a little upset, but was keeping a polite smile on her face.
Relieved, Beatrice relaxed too soon, for a moment later Katherine broke away from Jess and left the dance floor, heading from the room.
“What should we do?” Beatrice asked.
“Keep dancing and do not give it any attention. With a waltz very few people will notice since it is such an intimate dance.”
They kept on moving but Beatrice was sure that Destry wanted the dance to be over as much as she did. They noticed Lord Crenshaw and Mrs. Wilson leave the floor, too. Crenshaw headed for Jess and Beatrice could not stand the suspense. Fortunately the music ended. At the same moment, Jess turned his back on Crenshaw and headed for the grand doors. Beatrice grabbed Destry’s hand and pulled him with her in the same direction.
“We must do something.”
“Miss Brent, no! Please stay here.”
She let go of his hand but was not about to stay behind.
Chapter Twenty-nine
JESS FOUND KATHERINE Wilson in the passage, some way down from the entrance to the banquet hall, crying quietly but without restraint.
“I am sorry to have caused you to run from me, Miss Wilson. Please.” He handed her his handkerchief and prayed that no one would come upon them.
“It’s just that I do not want to be the subject of gossip or speculation.”
That makes two of us, Jess thought. Crying here was only minimally more private than crying on the dance floor.
“Now I will have to talk to Crenshaw about your story,” she complained between hiccoughs, “and he will tell me his version and I will not know whom to believe.”
Jess saw an opening for one more caution. “If you do not trust him completely, I would suggest that you think a long time before you allow him more than a passing acquaintance.”
“He is going to ask for permission to court me.” She sniffed and gave him a miserable smile. “He has spoken with Mama and he is going to see Papa tomorrow.”
Before she could continue Crenshaw himself came into the passageway.
“Stop accosting her, right now!”
“I am not accosting her,” Jess said wearily. “I am trying to