Frederick claimed the first two dances, then surrendered Stacie’s hand to Percy and himself moved on to partner Mrs. Forsythe, a young matron he introduced to Stacie as a distant connection.
Stacie found Percy to be almost as good a dancer as Frederick. When she remarked on their shared skill, Percy revealed that when he, George, and Frederick had first come on the town, they’d decided that dancing was an activity at which it would pay to excel, so had hired a dance master to polish their steps.
Percy grinned. “An excellent investment in time and expense—all three of us can attest that ladies definitely appreciate a gentleman who can dance.”
Stacie chuckled and nodded. “That’s certainly true.”
When, eventually, they swirled to a halt at the end of the measure and straightened from their curtsy and bow, a gentleman approached them.
Smiling, he bowed to Stacie. “Lady Eustacia.” The gentleman exchanged nods with Percy. “Do introduce us, Piper.”
Stacie didn’t know Percy well enough to decide if his impassive demeanor meant he disapproved of the gentleman or simply had little time for him, but nevertheless, Percy obliged. “Lady Eustacia, allow me to present Mr. Hadley Barkshaw.”
Barkshaw smiled, a touch ingratiatingly. “You’ve met my sister, Aurelia—Carlisle Brampton’s wife.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned, and Stacie smiled and extended her hand. “You’re a connection of Frederick’s.”
“Indeed.” Taking her hand, Hadley bowed over it. “And if I may, might I beg the honor of this dance?”
The musicians chose that moment to start up again—a country-dance, this time. Stacie saw no reason not to incline her head and, with a parting smile for Percy, allowed Barkshaw to lead her into the nearest set.
The dance was one that kept partners together, close enough to converse; while they turned and twirled, Barkshaw chatted—in a self-absorbed vein touching on subjects that confirmed Stacie’s assessment that he was some years younger than Frederick and his friends, possibly of similar age to herself. Eventually, Barkshaw congratulated her on her and Frederick’s engagement and capped his comment by brightly asking when they expected to wed.
Stacie countered by asking if Barkshaw had yet had a chance to congratulate Frederick. Barkshaw admitted he hadn’t yet crossed Frederick’s path, underscoring that he and Frederick did not move in the same circles; Stacie sensed that Barkshaw almost said as much but, at the last moment, held the words back.
Instead, he recommenced his steady patter of comments and observations, some of which were entertaining. However, he returned twice more to the question of when she and Frederick planned to marry, leaving Stacie wondering if Barkshaw was one of those gentlemen who sought to curry favor with the hostesses by always knowing the latest ton news; there was no denying that the date of her and Frederick’s wedding was currently a topic of considerable speculation.
She was more than experienced enough to fob Barkshaw off; indeed, they might be of similar age, but in terms of managing within the ton, she sensed she was his senior by several years.
Regardless, when the lengthy country-dance eventually ended, she was pleased to find Frederick waiting and promptly reclaimed his arm.
Frederick greeted Barkshaw with his usual cool aloofness. For his part, Barkshaw promptly congratulated Frederick on his and Stacie’s engagement, then with a bow and polite thanks to Stacie for the dance, Barkshaw took himself off.
Frederick eyed Barkshaw’s departing back. “Aurelia must have dragged him here. I expect she’s trying to encourage him to settle down.”
Stacie made a disparaging sound. “Judging from the general tone of his comments, that’s going to be a hard row for her to hoe, at least at present.”
“Oh?” Twining her arm more definitely with his, Frederick steered her around the edge of the dance floor. “I’ve had enough—can we go?”
She looked ahead. “The door is at the far end—by the time we reach it, we’ll have more than done our duty and can legitimately escape.”
As she’d foreseen, they were constantly stopped by this lady or that gentleman, all wanting to offer congratulations and glean whatever news they were willing to share. She was growing adept at sliding ar
ound the leading questions, and Frederick more than held his own with his coolly arrogant aloofness and sometimes cutting wit.
At one point, when they were momentarily free of others, Frederick tapped Stacie’s wrist and asked, “What did you mean by implying that Aurelia had her work cut out for her with Hadley?”
Stacie lightly shrugged. “Just that he struck me as an inexperienced rakehell—one who is yet a junior in the field, but seeking to find his way down that path.” She paused, then added, “Actually, when you think about it, he seems an odd sort of brother for Aurelia to have. I would have expected someone more like Carlisle—indeed, someone more serious and less genial than Carlisle.”
Frederick tipped his head. “True.” He considered the point, then conceded, “I hadn’t thought of that before, but you’re right. As I mentioned earlier, Aurelia’s parents are as rigidly correct as she is, if not more so. Perhaps Hadley’s going through a delayed and prolonged rebellious phase.”
Stacie chuckled. “That might explain it.”
Frederick lowered his head and whispered, “There’s a side door just ahead which gives access to the foyer—dare we take it?”
She glanced up and met his eyes. “I would love to, but we can’t. We have to take our leave of Lady Kilpatrick—and luckily for us, she’s just over there.”
Frederick looked, heaved a put-upon sigh that made Stacie smile, and led her to their hostess’s side.