The Bastard's World

Chapter 3-2

Nick smiled at his sisters as they put their heads together now that they finally had a moment to themselves. Viscount Beresford had outlasted Esmond by conversing with Nick until Esmond finally realized his game and took his leave. Shortly after that, his point apparently made, Beresford took his leave as well. Nick hadn’t minded, even though it had been painfully obvious Beresford had no actual interest in their conversation. Beresford seemed to be a pleasant enough sort whose interest in Violet was genuine. More important to Nick, of all the men who had clamored for an introduction and dance, Beresford was the one Violet was the most taken with.

At Charlotte’s insistence, Nick had danced a few dances early in the evening with some young ladies of Lady Goring’s choosing, but he had taken care not to show particular interest in any of them. As the evening wore on and Charlotte’s attention became more and more focused on the splash Violet was making, Nick ignored the dancing in favor of introductions to other noblemen in the hope that after some research into each, he would learn who was the wealthiest and find a way to base his investments on theirs.

“I believe Lady Talbot is coming this way.” Charlotte’s voice drew his attention. “No doubt with yet another gentleman who wants to meet you, Violet. Like all the others.”

Nick wasn’t as certain about that. The man accompanying Lady Talbot struck him as very different from those who had already requested introductions. They were either eager young gentlemen, like Beresford, some of whose less-than-honorable intentions were plain, or they were older gentlemen like Esmond, most of whom were better at hiding any dishonorable intentions they might harbor. All wore their cravats tied in the latest styles and brightly embroidered waistcoats.

This man, older than Beresford but younger than Esmond, didn’t seem overly concerned with style. His coat, although of expensive material and well-fitted, did nothing to hide shoulders that were a shade broader than was currently fashionable; his silk waistcoat was of a solid slate color, and his black hair was short and straight, rather than artfully crimped and tousled. His features might have been considered sensual, even handsome, if his expression wasn’t set in such forbidding, brooding lines.

Although Nick had taken note of other men at the ball, some of them extraordinarily handsome, none of them had really captured his attention. Even more than Nick’s tragic lover at Oxford, this man struck the deep resonant chord within Nick that usually only his novels could.

Nick was so caught up in his reaction that he almost missed Lady Talbot’s introduction. He recovered himself just in time to bow. “Mr. Deverell.”

“Lord Leighton.” While most men could only stare at Violet, Deverell’s cool grey eyes were fixed entirely on him. Nick couldn’t tear his gaze away, and he thought Deverell did so with some reluctance. “Would Miss Rexford honor me with this next dance?”

Violet swallowed hard before replying. “Thank you, sir.” She took his hand warily.

Lady Talbot took the seat Violet vacated as Deverell led her onto the dance floor to begin the quadrille. “Your sister should feel quite honored, Mrs. Audley. I can’t recall the last time I’ve known Mr. Deverell to suffer through a dance for a young lady.”

“How kind of him,” Charlotte replied. Nick waited patiently for her to begin ferreting out information. “Are you well-acquainted with Mr. Deverell?” she asked. Nick translated that into: Even though he has no title, does he have connections to one?

“I’ve known him some years,” Lady Talbot nodded. “He is the natural son of the late Marquess of Caver, you know.”

Nick watched as his sister’s features froze in an expression of distaste and quickly took two glasses of champagne from a nearby footman. “Lady Talbot?” He held one out to her, hoping against hope that the Lady hadn’t noticed Charlotte’s reaction.

“That’s very kind of you, Lord Leighton, but I have other acquaintances I must speak to.” Her tone was decidedly chilly. “Please tell Mr. Deverell he may find me in the card room.” With only the barest nod to Charlotte, she rose and made her way through the crowd.

Taking a seat in the empty chair to save it for Violet, Nick handed one of the glasses to Charlotte. Although he was tempted to remind her of her constant instruction to them of always keeping one’s countenance, he knew this would not be the wisest moment.

“Natural son?” Charlotte hissed. “Who does she think we are that we would welcome an introduction to a—”

“We are not in the country any longer, Charlotte.” Nick couldn’t resist that reminder. “Here, being someone’s natural son isn’t of the same consequence if the rank is high enough. If Lady Goring had no objection to his presence and Lady Talbot herself considers him a friend—”

“She didn’t say that,” Charlotte huffed.

Nick sighed. It was no use talking to Charlotte when she was in this state.

“Look at him.”

Nick did. While Deverell didn’t smile or try to engage Violet as the other men had, there was no denying he danced well. Nick knew better than to say so to Charlotte, however, and remained silent as he watched Deverell move easily, but with an understated power.

“Poor Violet.”

Poor Violet had been having the time of her life all evening, Nick knew. It wouldn’t hurt her to dance one dance with a man who wasn’t completely enraptured.

“Well, at least it wasn’t a waltz.”

Nick took a large swallow of champagne to hide his reaction to Charlotte’s words. The idea of whirling around while pressed close to Deverell’s body was distracting, to say the least. The fact that Deverell was illegitimate only made him more like a character from a novel, and therefore all the more fascinating.

“Oh, good. The dance is ending. I hope he won’t try to engage her for another.”

Nick didn’t reply as he rose.

“Thank you, Mr. Deverell.” Violet sank gracefully onto the empty chair.

“The pleasure was all mine, Miss Rexford.”

Charlotte snapped her fan open. “Lady Talbot asked us to tell you that she could be found in the card room.”

Nick barely managed to stifle a wince.

If Deverell noticed Charlotte’s icy tone, he gave no sign. “Thank you, Mrs. Audley, I should go to her. Miss Rexford,” he nodded to Violet. “Leighton.” It might have been Nick’s imagination, but it seemed Deverell’s gaze held his for longer than necessary—again.

“How uncomfortable that was.” Violet was creating quite a breeze with her rapid fanning.

“What did he do, my dear?”

Nick rolled his eyes. What did she expect him to do in the middle of the dance floor?

“Oh, nothing, really,” Violet assured her. “He was very polite to me, but everyone else seemed quite frightened of him.”

“He is illegitimate.” Charlotte whispered the last word.

“Is he really?” Violet craned her neck in the direction of the card room.

“If he asks you again, you will not dance with him,” Charlotte said firmly. “Refusing him once or twice should to the trick.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Violet asked.

“Then Nicholas will have words with him. Won’t you, Nick?”

“Of course I will.” Nick knew better than to add “with pleasure.”