The Road to Silver Plume by Tamara Allen

Author:Tamara Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical romance gay victorian america adventure

Chapter Thirteen

In all his years in Washington, through all manner of suppers and balls, he’d waltzed with flirtatious young women, with married matrons who wanted to introduce him to their daughters, with department colleagues who seemed far more comfortable chatting during the workday, and with affectionate elderly ladies who sometimes dared a kiss on the cheek at the dance’s end. He’d danced obligingly, dutifully, sometimes well past midnight to please his host—and to avoid talk that he was a bit of an odd fellow, still unmarried at thirty-one.

After so many years, he would admit he didn’t really care for dancing.

The prospect of taking Miss Kingsley around the floor again was not unpleasant. She was a sweet-natured young woman, though she talked of little beyond the social season, asking enraptured questions about New York. The little he knew of it was not fit to relate, but Miss Kingsley seemed rather less interested in Washington and finally fell to cataloguing her favorite shops in Denver—which left him well informed on where to purchase antique brocades and ostrich plumes.

Under less trying circumstances, he wouldn’t have minded; but he was not good company at the moment. He’d lost one opportunity for a private conversation with August McKee, thanks to Darrow’s rather too devoted effort to keep them apart. Though he and Darrow had forged something of an alliance, Darrow’s protectiveness, coming after so many days of constant disagreement, left him nonplussed. Darrow surely realized nothing was to be gained by avoiding McKee or Pritchard, no matter the potential for trouble.

“Mr. Strickland?”

Emlyn woke to the present and bowed his head in chagrin. “I do beg your pardon. What did you say?”

Miss Kingsley smiled forgivingly. “I promised my mother I’d take her in for a little refreshment.”

“I’d be honored to escort you.”

Gathering up Mrs. Kingsley from the roost of gossiping elders, Emlyn found unoccupied seats at a table and took on the role of footman, bringing iced lemonade, sandwiches, and cake. The elder Kingsley kept a dubious eye on him as if she wondered what failing had kept him unmarried so long. The younger thanked him and proceeded to exclaim over Pritchard’s gleaming china and the artfully arranged silver bowls overladen with roses.

Sent in search of champagne, Emlyn was navigating a crowded room when an amiable clap on the shoulder startled him. “Mr. Strickland!” It was August McKee, all cheer and bluster. “I was just saying to Hugh we’d never find you in this mess, but now here you are.”

Pritchard caught up, followed by Roy Caswell and two other fellows Emlyn remembered from the library. McKee waved them closer. “You know Mr. Caswell and you’ve met Hugh. This is George Clancy—” He bowed to the gray-bearded gentleman and Emlyn did likewise. “And this earnest fellow is Thomas Pritchard, Hugh’s brother. Tom, let me introduce Emlyn Strickland.”

Tom, with his rather unkempt wavy blond hair and genial hazel eyes, looked decidedly more good-natured than his brother. He shook Emlyn’s hand without the least wariness, leaving Emlyn to doubt he played any part in Hugh’s alliance with McKee.

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