“Oooh, you’ll never guess who is casting adoring looks your way, Ambrose,” Violet said.
“I don’t care.”
“Lady Alice. She’s been doing so all evening.”
“I like her. In fact, she’d be a perfect sister-in-law,” Cissa said.
“Have either of you chatted with Mr. Howard?” Violet asked, arriving with Charles. The latter stood a little back, while Ambrose’s youngest sister wedged herself into the middle of the group.
“I’ve danced with the man. He’s a little boring, but pleasant enough,” Cissa said. “Why?”
“I think he’s showing an interest in Tilly.”
“He smiled at her. That is hardly showing interest,” Ambrose protested not mentioning the fact he’d seen Tilly enter the ballroom with Howard from the balcony.
“Why are you testy?” Violet demanded, shooting him a questioning look.
“I’m not testy, but just because you are wed to this idiot?—”
“Harsh but true,” Charles agreed amicably.
“—does not mean Tilly wants to do the same,” Ambrose finished, though he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“Of course she does. My friend may be fiercely independent, but she has no siblings, and told me once that she envied what we had, even if we have an annoying, sanctimonious elder brother,” Violet said. “So back to my question. Do either of you know anything about Mr. Howard?”
“No,” he and Charles said before Cissa or Tavi could speak.
“He’s just there, as most are at society events,” Ambrose added.
Could Tilly be interested in the man? He didn’t like that thought or the thought that he didn’t like it, which made no sense, but then not much did lately.
“The dancing has begun.”
“I thought this was a musicale,” Charles said.
“Sometimes there is dancing too,” Violet said. “Come along.”
Ambrose watched them move onto the floor with the other dancers, and while doing so, he intercepted the coy, flirtatious smile from Lady Alice. Why not,he thought, heading her way. He needed a distraction.
“A waltz, how lovely,” she said as he led her to the floor, and they started dancing.
Ambrose looked around, and though he told himself he wasn’t looking for Tilly, he found her approaching on the arm of Mr. Howard.
“I’m so sorry, my lord.”
“For what, Lady Alice? I did not feel you stand on my toes.” He was good at social conversations, and, of course, flirting was something he was an expert at.
She trilled out a laugh. “No, and it is a delicate matter, my lord.”
“Speak plainly, Lady Alice,” he said, wondering what she could have to say to him that was a delicate matter.
“Miss Wilson and her club next to your gentleman’s one. I understand, of course, that she is your sister’s friend, but also how embarrassing this is for you and your family?—”
“As you know nothing about my family or how we feel about The Iris Club, I don’t think you have any place commenting on the matter,” he said, tamping down the anger that had fired to life inside him.
He’d clearly shocked her, because her eyes shot to his. The look in them could only be described as panic. But she carried on. “She has never fitted in society, my lord, and I was merely pointing out?—”
“I think it would be best if you kept your opinions to yourself, Lady Alice.”