Page 78 of A Symphony for the Earl

His eyes went dark again. “Fiona—as much as I’ve bungled things? You’ve had reservations, I know. But I believe we can be happy together.”

“Then dispel my doubts. Don’t expect blind obedience from me. We must be partners above all else. Can you accept that?”

“I can and do with all my heart.” Looking around the rapidly filling ballroom, he tucked her arm in his. “Into the fray we go.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Betrothal Ball at Merrick House Begins

As the stately clock in the hall clock struck ten, people continued to fill the atrium, crowding into the ballroom. When Richard told her Hansen could stand by and welcome any latecomers, she was relieved. Her face seemed frozen into a permanent smile and her knees ached from curtsying.

The dance floor was full. Fiona noticed a number of guests lingered in the front drawing room, left open for the occasion, and others had moved to the spacious gardens, where they sought respite from the crowds in the temperate night air.

The Prince Regent attended, much to everyone’s surprise. He decided to come down from Balmoral for the festivities. She surveyed the future monarch with curiosity as he greeted Richard with informal affection. He was florid and leaned toward corpulence, which was unfortunate, since his outfit was ostentatious with all the affectations that her betrothed declined to wear.

“Lord Seldon, my felicitations on your engagement. I thought I’d better come out of the country and find out who you intend to marry. Is this the gel? Very pretty, very pretty indeed. You must allow me to give the toast, eh? Damme, your coat is an excellent cut…too plain for my taste, but it suits you. Weston or Stultz?”

“Maxwell, Your Highness, but all three are masters of their craft. May I introduce my fiancée, Miss Rafferty? She has recently arrived from Dublin.”

The regent’s puce coat, adorned by many fobs and a diamond brooch, opened over a waistcoat of unfortunate peridot green. When she curtsied, he inclined his head with difficulty, due to the extravagant height of his cravat. But his smile was genuine and she dismissed his fashion foibles to the eccentricities of royalty.

“Dublin, eh? Mighty fine horses in Dublin. By-the-bye, congratulations on your latest race prospect, Richard—everyone says it will win Newmarket this year. I’ll demand the first cover when you breed him, you know. Have to keep improving the royal line and all that. Miss Rafferty, I do hope you will save me a dance—the pavane, perhaps. I know it’s old-fashioned, but I don’t do these wild country dances, if you understand.”

“Of course, Your Highness, I would be honored,” she murmured. “You’re very kind to grace our celebration tonight. Might I offer some refreshments?”

“What a charming accent, eh, Richard? I predict you will do very well in London, m’dear. Some wine is certainly in order—no, no, Miss Rafferty, I will find my own way. There’s no need to escort me. You are altogether delightful…I’ll have to visit Ireland more often.”

The members of his entourage hurried after him as he drifted off amid a gauntlet of people, making his way to the refreshment table.

Lady Amelia hurried over. “Oh, my, Richard. The Prince Regent! We sent an invitation, of course, but I hardly expected to see him. Fiona, you won him over completely. Do you think he will give the wedding toast? I vow I could pass out from excitement.”

“Me, too,” Octavia chirped at her side. “So far, I’ve helped light the candles and danced with Denys and met a prince.”

“Your dress is quite charming,” Richard tweaked her nose, “and your behavior has been exemplary. So you may stay downstairs until midnight…then off to bed.”

Lady Amelia opened her fan. “I can hardly wait to read the society pages in the morning. Mark me, this evening is a triumph.”

Fiona watched the crowded floor, curious that Richard had not asked her to dance yet. After a short pause, the lilting strains of a waltz filled the room, and he offered his hand to her.

“Let us provide fodder for gossip. Waltz with me.”

She followed him to the dance floor. “And why would that be cause for talk? We have often waltzed together.”

Richard swept her against him, swirling Fiona into the crowd. “Once engaged or married, couples rarely dance with one another. They must partner with those looking to make a match, to show them to advantage.”

“Stuff! I hope you will always waltz with me, my lord. You are my teacher and too fine a dancer to give away to another.”

The corners of his eyes creased with amusement. “Why does everything you say tonight make me want to kiss you, Fiona?”

Before she could manage a response, she noticed the couples around them pulling away one by one to stand at the edge of the dance floor. Soon, she and Richard danced alone.

“Have we offended everyone?” she whispered.

“Head high, love. If we have, it’s no time to surrender.”

As the waltz ended, the crowd broke into applause.

“It seems we have started a new tradition. Curtsy to our guests, my love…I predict you’ll set trends as my countess.”