Regency Reputation. Diane Gaston
is Lord Neddington.’ She turned to the younger Lady Gale, who looked upon him with a quizzical expression. ‘Lady Gale and Miss Gale.’ She nodded towards Ned. ‘Lord Neddington.’
Ned bowed. ‘Madams.’ He looked into the eyes he’d longed to see up close again. ‘Miss Gale.’
She lowered her long thick lashes and curtsied. ‘Lord Neddington.’
‘May I perform any service for you ladies?’ He glanced at Miss Gale. ‘Bring you some wine, perhaps?’
She coloured and looked even more lovely.
‘That is kind of you, young man.’ The Dowager Lady Gale smiled.
‘None for me, thank you,’ the younger Lady Gale said.
‘I will return directly.’ He hated to leave Miss Gale’s presence.
Ned quickly found a servant toting a tray of wine glasses. He took two and returned to the ladies.
When he handed a glass to Miss Gale, their fingers touched and his senses heightened.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she murmured.
He took a breath. ‘Are you engaged for the supper dance, Miss Gale?’
She lowered her lashes. ‘I am not.’
‘Adele,’ the Dowager Lady Gale broke in. ‘I have asked your cousin to claim you for that dance.’
‘But, Grandmama …’ she murmured.
The younger Lady Gale spoke up. ‘He did not ask Adele, though, Lady Gale. Let her decide.’ She turned to Miss Gale. ‘You do not want to sit out at a ball when you could dance, do you?’
Miss Gale smiled. ‘Indeed not.’
Lady Gale faced him. ‘Then it is settled.’
Ned peered at this woman who had just helped him engage the dance. He had the oddest notion that he’d seen her before.
Ned bowed. ‘I will return for the pleasure of dancing with you, Miss Gale.’ He walked away, hoping the supper dance would be announced very soon.
Celia noticed the change in Adele as she danced with Lord Neddington. The girl gave evidence of enjoying every dance and every partner, but never had such a dreamy look crossed her face as when she glanced at this man.
‘He is likely a fortune hunter,’ Celia’s mother-in-law commented.
‘Her dowry is respectable, nothing more,’ Celia responded. ‘Perhaps he just fancies her.’ That he visited gaming hells was Celia’s prime worry. She’d recognised him immediately.
‘Hmmph.’ The dowager frowned. ‘You ought not to have encouraged that young man, in any event. You know I am determined she should marry her cousin.’
Celia probably should not have encouraged Neddington. She’d done so only to oppose her mother-in-law. And because she’d seen the look in Adele’s eye, how much she wanted to dance with the man.
‘Luther shows very little interest in Adele, Lady Gale,’ Celia said.
Luther was the more likely fortune hunter.
Celia would not see Adele forced into a marriage, but could she allow Adele to marry a gambler? She had seen Lord Neddington at the gaming hell more than once. She could never recall seeing him play more than once or twice at hazard. He spoke to Rhysdale on occasion.
Rhysdale.
Rhys, he’d asked her to call him, although could she really think of him in such intimate terms? Her heart skipped at the mere thought of speaking his name aloud. Her name on his lips came back to her, as well as his smile and the way those lips touched the edge of his teacup.
And had almost touched hers.
She placed her hand over her heart.
She would see him tonight after the ball. And once again yield to the temptations of the gambling den, with no need to wager her own money. She felt a dangerous excitement at the prospect of playing cards with a hundred pounds to wager. Think how much she could win!
The Dowager Lady Gale’s voice broke through Celia’s thoughts. ‘You should have refused Neddington the supper dance. Now he will spend supper with her. That is entirely too much time.’
Her mother-in-law had a point.
Celia gazed in Adele’s direction. Adele was glowing with pleasure each time the figures joined her with Neddington. His face was filled with admiration.
Was this how young love appeared?
Celia had been given no chance to experience a youthful romance. She could not bear to take such joy away from Adele.
She turned to her mother-in-law. ‘Do not interfere, Lady Gale. Allow your granddaughter the pleasure of supper with an admirer.’
Lady Gale’s nostrils flared. ‘I’ve half a mind to fetch her to me for supper.’
Celia seized her arm with just enough pressure to make her point. ‘You will do no such thing. Do you hear me clearly?’
Lady Gale shrugged. ‘You are indeed a wretch, are you not?’
‘Interfere with Adele’s life and you will see what a wretch I can be.’
Celia’s conflicting wishes for Adele waged inside her. Let the girl choose her suitors. Let her fall in love with whom she wished. But not a man who would be cruel or thoughtless or more enamoured of gaming than of a wife and children. Celia had endured all of those.
Later that night Celia’s lady’s maid helped her get out of her ballgown and prepare to dress for the Masquerade Club. Celia sat at her dressing table, pulling pins from her hair so that they could fix it to fit under the new turban Younie had fashioned, to go with a new mask of white silk adorned with tiny seed pearls taken from one of her mother-in-law’s discarded gowns.
There was a knock on the door and Adele entered. ‘Celia, I saw the light under your door.’
Celia grabbed the new mask and hid it under her table. ‘I am still awake.’
Younie, new gown in hand, quickly retreated to the dressing room.
Adele flopped onto Celia’s bed. ‘I cannot sleep!’
Celia brushed out her hair. ‘What is the matter?’
Adele stretched and sighed. ‘Nothing is the matter! Everything is wonderful!’
‘What is so wonderful that you cannot sleep?’ Celia asked, although she was certain she knew.
‘I had such a lovely time at the ball. The best ever!’ Adele sat cross-legged. In her nightdress with her hair in a plait, she looked as young as when Celia first met her six years ago.
Celia smiled. ‘And to what do you attribute this pleasure?’
Adele wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I—I think I met someone I really like.’
Celia turned back to the mirror. ‘Lord Neddington?’
Adele’s reflection showed surprise. ‘How did you know?’
Celia kept brushing her hair. ‘A lucky guess, I suppose.’
‘He is so wonderful!’ She flopped back onto the bed. ‘And so handsome.’ She sat up again. ‘Do you not think he is handsome?’
‘I do,’ Celia agreed. ‘Very handsome.’
‘And very gentlemanly,’ Adele continued. ‘It was he who helped me procure the wine for you and Grandmama at the musicale. And tonight he fixed me the nicest plate at supper and gave me the choice of sitting with my friends. He was so agreeable, do you not think?’
‘Indeed.’ Celia had watched Neddington carefully and had seen nothing to object to in his manner towards