of Kent, for all that English manners still felt foreign to her.
“… our neighbor, Lord Tappan.”
Realizing that the duke was speaking, Kate shook off her musings and tried to pay attention.
“As you know, Katharine, His Lordship is a minister with the Foreign Office.”
“A very junior one,” said Tappan with a self-deprecating quirk of his mouth.
His face did not seem at all familiar. But then again, thought Kate wryly, most of the fancy balls and soirees had passed by in a boring blur. Deciding the best response was none at all, she just smiled.
“Allow me to introduce several of my fellow diplomats from the Continent,” continued Tappan. “Count Vronskov and Colonel Von Seilig.”
“Enchanté, mademoiselle,” said Vronskov in a heavy Russian accent as he lifted her hand to his lips with a flourish. “Had I known that the crème de la crème of English womanhood was so beautiful, I would have made the journey from St. Petersburg long ago.”
“Merci,” she murmured, echoing his use of French, the court language of the Russian nobility. There was no point in upsetting her grandfather by making mention of her American blood, she decided. They would soon enough have something to lock horns over.
The colonel clicked his heels and bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Woodbridge.”
Kate appreciated the simple gesture, along with the fact that his chest was not clanking with row upon row of gaudy medals. “And you, sir. From your accent, I would guess that you are from the north of Prussia—perhaps near Danzig?”
“Jawohl, Miss Woodbridge.” His face was not handsome, but with a flash of pleasure lighting his pale blue eyes, he was rather attractive. “I am indeed from that port city. You have an excellent ear for languages.”
“A very pretty ear it is, too,” said Vronskov with an effusive laugh.
She ignored him. “Have you been in London long, Colonel?”
“Just a few months. I have been assigned to serve as military attaché to our embassy here, though I will soon be joining our delegation for the peace conference in Vienna for several weeks.”
“I should very much like to see that city,” said Kate. “As well as the Danube and the Rhine.”
“Have you traveled abroad?” asked Von Seilig.
“Yes, I…” Seeing her grandfather’s mouth compress, she caught herself. “I visited some foreign places when my parents were alive.”
Von Seilig seemed to sense her hesitation and tactfully let the subject drop.
“Gentlemen, if you will excuse us now, we must greet the others,” said the duke.
The three men stepped aside, Vronskov adding another elaborate bow.
Kate and her grandfather proceeded to circle the room, repeating the polite formalities. There were, counted Kate, twenty guests, not including herself, the duke, and Charlotte. That meant that only one had not yet arrived, seeing as the duke’s butler had informed her that the party would be an even two dozen people.
Yet another prosy diplomat, she thought to herself.
Several of the English gentlemen were accompanied by their wives, but most of the foreigners had come alone. However, Cluyne and Tappan had made an effort to ensure a feminine presence. Kate recognized an influential matron of the ton and her two unmarried daughters, along with the widowed Countess of Duxbury.
“Ah, here is the last member of our party. Conte Ghiradelli just arrived an hour ago, Katharine,” intoned the duke. “Allow me to introduce you—”
“We’ve met,” she said curtly.
“Indeed, I have had the pleasure of making your granddaughter’s acquaintance in London,” elaborated Marco.
She narrowed her gaze in warning. Surely the rogue wouldn’t be so rag-mannered as to tell the story of their first encounter outside Angelo’s fencing salon. Her grandfather would not be amused.
“My cousin is a member of Miss Woodbridge’s scientific circle,” he continued smoothly. “And recently married the Duke of Ledyard’s youngest son. Your granddaughter and I attended the wedding in Oxfordshire.”
“Ah yes, Lord James Pierson,” replied Cluyne. “He is said to be an excellent fellow.”
To Kate’s ears, the statement carried a note of reproach. No lordly suitors or military heroes were currently seeking her hand.
“Quite,” she replied evenly.
“A most excellent fellow,” agreed Marco. He slanted her a wink glittering with suppressed mirth. “His upstanding character puts most of us mere mortals to blush.”
She pretended not to see it. Whatever might bring a tinge of red to the conte’s face, it would not be contrition over his moral shortcomings. “Are you, like many of our other guests, heading on to the Continent after this gathering?” she inquired as her grandfather stepped away to speak with Tappan.