Gareth turned sharply to see Hyacinth, standing before them like a vision in blue silk. She looked especially lovely this evening. She’d done something different with her hair. He wasn’t sure what; he was rarely observant enough to notice such minutiae. But it was altered somehow. It must have framed her face differently, because something about her didn’t look quite the same.
Maybe it was her eyes. They looked determined, even for Hyacinth.
“Miss Hotchkiss,” Hyacinth said with a polite nod. “How lovely to see you again.”
Jane smiled warmly. “Lady Bridgerton always hosts such lovely parties. Please convey my regards.”
“I shall. Kate is just over there by the champagne,” Hyacinth said, referring to her sister-in-law, the current Lady Bridgerton. “In case you wished to tell her yourself.”
Gareth felt his eyebrows rise. Whatever Hyacinth was up to, she wanted to speak with him alone.
“I see,” Jane murmured. “I had best go speak with her, then. I wish you both a pleasant evening.”
“Smart girl,” Hyacinth said, once they were alone.
“You weren’t exactly subtle,” Gareth said.
“No,” she replied, “but then, I rarely am. It’s a skill one must be born with, I’m afraid.”
He smiled. “Now that you have me all to yourself, what do you wish to do
with me?”
“Don’t you wish to hear about your grandmother’s diary?”
“Of course,” he said.
“Shall we dance?” she suggested.
“You’re asking me?” He rather liked this.
She scowled at him.
“Ah, there is the real Miss Bridgerton,” he teased. “Shining through like a surly—”
“Would you care to dance with me?” she ground out, and he realized with surprise that this wasn’t easy for her. Hyacinth Bridgerton, who almost never gave the impression of being at odds with anything she did, was scared to ask him to dance.
How fun.
“I’d be delighted,” he said immediately. “May I guide you onto the floor, or is that a privilege reserved for the one doing the asking?”
“You may lead,” she said, with all the hauteur of a queen.
But when they reached the floor, she seemed a little less sure of herself. And though she hid it quite well, her eyes were flicking around the room.
“Who are you looking for?” Gareth asked, letting out an amused snuff of air as he realized he was echoing Jane’s exact words to him.
“No one,” Hyacinth said quickly. She snapped her gaze back to his with a suddenness that almost made him dizzy. “What is so amusing?”
“Nothing,” he countered, “and you were most certainly looking for someone, although I will compliment you on your ability to make it seem like you weren’t.”
“That’s because I wasn’t,” she said, dipping into an elegant curtsy as the orchestra began the first strains of a waltz.
“You’re a good liar, Hyacinth Bridgerton,” he murmured, taking her into his arms, “but not quite as good as you think you are.”
Music began to float through the air, a soft, delicate tune in three-four time. Gareth had always enjoyed dancing, particularly with an attractive partner, but it became apparent with the first—no, one must be fair, probably not until the sixth—step that this would be no ordinary waltz.
Hyacinth Bridgerton, he was quite amused to note, was a clumsy dancer.