The Capture of the Earl of Glencrae Read Free

Julia—and shifted fractionally closer to Angelica.
    Her heart leapt, then thumped heavily.
    He felt it, too. He was as intrigued by the link between them as she was.
    Well and good. Now how to capitalize, how to gain them an opportunity in which to explore further?
    A hidden violinist tested his strings.
    â€œAt last!” Millicent all but jigged. “The dancing’s starting again.” Her shining eyes shamelessly implored Debenham to ask her to dance.
    Before Angelica could react, he brought his cane forward and leaned more heavily on it.
    Millicent saw, realized she shouldn’t force him to explain an injury that prevented him from dancing; enthusiasm undimmed, she turned her encouraging gaze on Millingham.
    Who accepted the cue and solicited her hand.
    The other gentlemen stepped up to do their duty by asking the ladies beside them to dance; accepting that Debenham wouldn’t be swirling about the space clearing in the salon’s center, Claire, Julia, and Serena accepted with alacrity, and the group dispersed.
    Leaving Angelica standing between Debenham and Theo, and facing Giles Ribbenthorpe. Theo met her eyes, smiled and saluted her, nodded to Debenham and Ribbenthorpe, and moved away into the crowd.
    Ribbenthorpe, who could read the signs as well as any other man, nevertheless arched a brow at her and, lips curving, inquired, “Will you dance, Miss Cynster?”
    â€œThank you for the invitation, Ribbenthorpe, but I believe I’ll stand out from this set. However, Lady Cavendish will be thrilled to see you on her floor, and Jennifer Selkirk”—she tipped her head toward a young brunette standing alongside her dragon of a mother—“could do with rescuing. I suggest you play St. George.”
    Ribbenthorpe turned to survey the Selkirks, then laughed, bowed, and, still smiling, walked off. Angelica was pleased that he acted on her suggestion and drew Jennifer onto the floor.
    Finally alone with Debenham, she dropped all pretence of acceptable social distance and pointedly directed her gaze at his cane.
    He hesitated, but then obliged. “An old injury from before I first came to town. I can walk, but can’t risk dancing—my knee might well collapse under me.”
    Raising her head, she studied his face. “So you’ve never waltzed?” She loved to waltz, but if he was her hero . . .
    â€œNot never. I was old enough to have learned and indulged at country balls prior to the accident, but I haven’t waltzed since.”
    â€œI see.” Leaving that disappointment aside, she turned to more immediate concerns. “So if you haven’t been circling the floors at Almack’s or anywhere else, what avenues have you been pursuing in your quest to find your bride? You’re not easy to overlook—given that I, and Millicent and company, too, were unaware of your existence until this evening, I would own myself surprised if you’d attended any of the major events this past week.”
    His eyes again held hers, as if gauging what would be acceptable to tell her.
    She tipped up her chin. “Don’t tell me—you’ve been haunting some gaming hell, or carousing with friends.”
    His lips curved in wry amusement. “Sadly, no. If you must know, I spent several days organizing to have some rooms in my London house refurbished, after which my first social forays were, unsurprisingly, into the clubs. Given I’ve been absent from town for so long, it was . . . unexpected, but gratifying to find so many still remember me.” He paused, then added, “Then Lady Cavendish’s invitation arrived, and I thought it time to test the waters.”
    â€œSo I’ve caught you at your first ton event.”
    â€œIndeed.” He heard her satisfaction. His eyes searched her face. “Why are you preening?”
    â€œBecause, in ton parlance, that means I’ve stolen a march on all the other