A Scandal for Stratford (The Lords of Bucknall Club Book 6) by J.A. Rock & Lisa Henry

Author:J.A. Rock & Lisa Henry [Rock, J.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2022-07-04T18:30:00+00:00

At the ball, Frederick began pecking at him again. Why had he loosened the knot in his cravat? Why was he standing like some blushing school miss? Who were all these people, didn’t James know them, wasn’t he going to introduce Frederick? It was a relief when Lady Karina Bellborough—a name James did know, thank God— began sending glances and smiles to Frederick across the room, and Frederick finally got it in his head to go and ask her to dance. But that of course left James where he always found himself at balls—flat against the wall, praying no one would notice him.

“Good evening,” said a familiar voice.

James tried not to jump. He turned to find Mr. Chant beside him, and sighed in unexpected relief. “Good evening.”

“I came to see how you were faring.”

“Oh. Ah—my brother is faring better than I. He already has a dance partner.” James nodded to the dance floor.

“Then he is faring better than I as well. I had to promise Lord Christmas half the world to get him to attend tonight. And I asked him for a dance. But he is petrified by all this, and so Hartwell is attempting to calm him without letting him know he is attempting to calm him. For Lord Christmas hates to be coddled.”

“Lord Christmas—is petrified? By—what, exactly?”

“The crowds, the music, the conversation. The quadrille.”

“Lord Christmas?”

“Indeed.”

“But he is—” James was not sure exactly what he meant to say “—famous.”

“Precisely. Famous, and terrified of crowds. Lord Warrington, I believe, is out on the terrace taking the air, for he too is made quite anxious by these events.”

“I—I did not realise anyone but myself suffered from such—” He’d wanted to say weakness, but he did not consider Lord Christmas or Lord Warrington weak. “—anxieties.”

“My good fellow, I think many of us do. It is all about how well we hide it.”

“I cannot hide it at all.”

“That is no matter.” Chant paused. “I—feel free to say no, of course—but I was wondering if, since I have not seen my dance partner in some time, I might ask you to dance?”

“Me?” Terror and pleasure twined together in James. “I’m afraid I’m very clumsy.”

“Ah. Well, if you wish to try, I am happy to lead. You need only go where I guide you.”

James flushed at the reminder of just how much he enjoyed that sort of promise. “Very well,” he said, surprising himself. Perhaps if he danced one dance with Mr. Chant, Frederick would not be quite so unhappy with him.

They joined in the next dance. True to his word, Mr. Chant was an excellent partner, and did not let James make too much a fool of himself. James could almost imagine, in a different world, with different rules, dancing with Harold at a ball. James would be dressed in his beautiful gown, of course, and Harold would look as dashing as any man here in a tailed coat, silk breeches, a crisp neckcloth.

He found he was not as terribly embarrassed as he’d expected when their dance stopped, and that he did not much care if people were watching him.

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