Chichester Bells finished, and Evangeline and Sir Jocelyn began to return to the sofa, but before reaching it they were accosted by Mr. Mellish. Megan was to learn later that under the guise of righteous concern he was informing Evangeline what "some persons" were stooping to spread about her companion.
He was still engaged upon this little exercise when a landler was announced. Chloe turned quickly to Oliver. "May I crave a favor of you?" she asked.
"Your wish is my command," he replied eagerly.
She smiled sweetly. "I want you to lead Miss Mortimer out for this measure."
His smile vanished, and Megan wished the floor would open up and swallow her, but Chloe pressed on. "She is the victim of a campaign of whispers, sir, and it is up to us to show we do not give a fig for such lies."
"Please, Miss Holcroft-" Megan began, but Chloe put up a hand to silence her protest.
"I am set upon it, Miss Mortimer."
Megan became agitated. "Please, Miss Holcroft, it really doesn't matter-"
"It most certainly does!" Chloe fixed her large blue eyes upon Oliver, whose reluctance to comply with her request was only too evident. "I'm sure you do not wish to disappoint me tonight, sir."
"Er, no, of course not." He did not want to be seen dancing with the cousin he had gone to such lengths to make the talk of the ball, but nor did he wish to offend Chloe, so with ill grace he extended a white-gloved hand. "Miss Mortimer?"
Megan did not feel able to refuse, even though that was very much what she wished to do, so she reluctantly slipped her fingers into his. His grip tightened harshly as he led her on to the floor. The landler was an intimate measure for couples, not sets, and as the orchestra struck the opening chord, he linked her arms to hold her at the elbows. The dance commenced, and all she could see was the cold glitter of his eyes behind his mask, all she could hear were the two piercing voices of the women. Everything whirled almost dizzily past, and she glimpsed the sofa, where Evangeline and Sir Jocelyn were now in urgent conversation with Chloe and Rupert. Then Greville joined them, his face pale and angry as he gestured toward the room in general.
Megan's heart began to pound, and she felt so close to sobbing out loud that suddenly she couldn't bear it any longer. She came to an abrupt halt, and pulled away from Oliver. "I-I cannot go on, sir," she said.
Many nearby couples hesitated perceptibly, for attention was upon the two people now standing stock-still in the middle of the floor. Oliver was dismayed to find himself the center of this particular stage. She was the one who was meant to. be humiliated, not him! His thin veneer of manners cracked, and he lost his temper. "By all means let us abandon this dance, madam! Believe me, I have no desire to be seen with you anyway!" he declared in a tone that was only too audible to the many listening ears. There were gasps and more whispers as he turned on his heel to walk away.
It was too much for Megan. Catching up her skirts, she fled. She didn't know where she was going, just that she needed to escape from the horrors of the ballroom. The main door of the assembly rooms stood open to the snowy night, and she halted on the threshold. Ship Street was white now, and a passing carriage made hardly a sound, except for the jingle of harness and the crunch of the wheels on the ever deepening carpet. The cold did not seem to touch her at all as she turned her face up to the flakes, striving not to cry. Red tearstained eyes would be the very last straw.
"Miss Mortimer?" Greville said, and she turned in dismay.
"Oh. Sir Greville…"
"What happened during that landler? Why did March walk away like that?" he asked, searching her face in the light that streamed out from behind him.
"Is it not obvious, sir? Please do not tell me that you do not know I am the scandal of the moment. My cousin did not wish to dance with such a shocking creature."
"Then, why did he ask you?"
"Miss Holcroft insisted." Megan searched in her reticule for her handkerchief. "Anyway, it is all too much, and I've come out here for a little fresh air."
"Fresh? Miss Mortimer, it is virtually arctic!" He smiled.
"I feel the heat," she replied, managing a very small smile in return.
"Ah, yes, so you do." He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded as he continued to look at her. "I have heard what is being said of you here tonight, and think you should know that Ralph Strickland's name is being circulated as well."
She looked quickly away. "At least there is nothing more that can possibly come out." Who had started it? Why, Oliver, of course, for who else would stoop so very low?
"I trust you do not think I had anything to do with it?" Greville said then.
"No, of course not. It would be impossible to prove, but I would guess my cousin to be the instigator."
Greville's lips parted. When he had been keeping out of Sybil's way, he had seen Oliver speaking with her, Lady Garsington, and Mellish. Yes, Megan's blackguardly kinsman was the source!
Megan watched the expressions crossing his face. "Please do not say anything to him, Sir Greville, for I am already infamous enough without him choosing to make things even worse for me."
"The fellow needs to be taught a lesson."
"I know, but I would prefer to let things die down."
He hesitated, but then nodded. "If that is your wish."
"It is."
Their eyes met, and he smiled a little. "I do hope you are able to forgive me for the way I behaved when first we met."
"It is forgotten, Sir Greville. Besides, you have redeemed yourself tonight."
"Have I? If I hadn't scuttled off and left after begging you to…"
"Keep Miss Sybil Garsington away from you? Sir Greville, I do believe you think I tripped her on purpose!"
He straightened uncomfortably from the doorjamb. "Did you?"
"Certainly not! It was an accident."
He grinned a little sheepishly. "And here I was thinking you'd gone to such noble lengths on my behalf."
"What overweening male vanity," she replied, but smiled back at him.
"That is what comes from being constantly pursued by hopeful brides."
"One day you will meet someone you will not wish to avoid, sir."
He laughed. "Possibly. Although to be truthful I find the prospect of marriage a little daunting. So few unions are an unqualified success that I may take a leaf out of Aunt E's book and remain single."
"But Lady Evangeline does not wish to remain single, sir," Megan replied.
"What do you mean?"
"It may not be my place to say, but I have watched her when she is with Sir Jocelyn, and-"
"Sir Jocelyn?" Greville was taken aback.
"Haven't you noticed? She smiles like a young girl whenever he is near, and at such times her pink cheeks are not on account of her flushes."
"But they have known each other almost all their lives."
"So have Lord Rupert and Miss Holcroft," she reminded him.
"True, but I am sure Aunt E only regards Sir Jocelyn as a dear, dear friend. There was someone once, but he broke her heart."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know, but she carries his likeness in her locket."
"So that's what is in it." Megan thought of the many times she had seen Evangeline's fingers creep to touch the locket. She glanced at Greville again. "I still believe she is in love with Sir Jocelyn now, and if I were of a wagering disposition, I would put my money upon it."
"A lady's companion with a gambling streak? What is the world coming to?"
Megan laughed. "Rack and ruin, sir, rack and ruin."
He became suddenly more serious. "Those sharp-beaked old broiler hens were wrong to describe you as gauche, for that is one thing you are certainly not, nor is your gown dull or your hair ornament provincial. As to bucolic…! Miss Mortimer-Megan-I have already complimented you upon your appearance tonight, and now I will say it again. You look very well indeed; in fact, you look quite lovely."
She went a little pink, and hardly noticed the use of her first name. "Oh, come, Sir Greville, we both know that I cannot hold a candle to the other ladies here tonight."
"No?"
"No." She held his gaze. "Be honest, admit that having me as your partner tonight is beneath you."
"I will not admit any such thing, especially as I am about to show this ball that not only do I think you are its most charming belle, but also that I am certainly not demeaning myself by being with you."
She lowered her eyes. "You do not have to do anything on my behalf, Sir Greville."
He put his gloved hand to her chin, and raised her face to make her look at him. "You do both of us less than justice, Megan Mortimer. I have much to thank you for, not least that you have made me take a close look at myself. What I saw did not please me, and I am resolved to improve. Tell me, do you think you can be an accomplished actress for an hour or so?"
"What do you mean?" His thumb moved softly against her skin, and she suppressed the pleasure that tingled through her.
"All will soon be revealed. We are going to return to the ball, and once there I want you to follow my lead. We're going to give Brighton society something to really gossip about. Come!"
In the ballroom at that moment, Oliver was standing in glum isolation behind the Radcliffe House sofa. Chloe had rebuked him very sternly indeed for his disgraceful conduct during the landler. Now she refused to speak to him, and had even made a point of inviting Rupert to join her on the sofa. Evangeline and Sir Jocelyn, who were also highly displeased with him for the landler, took up the only other places. He would have been ostracized far more if they had all known the true extent of his odiousness that night.
He blamed Megan for his predicament, reasoning that if she hadn't halted as she did during the dance, he wouldn't have been goaded into losing his temper, so Chloe would still be smiling at him and Lord Rupert Radcliffe would not be making headway! That he had brought it all upon himself, and indeed warranted society's equivalent of excommunication, simply did not occur to him.
He was so preoccupied with his self-pity that Sybil Garsington and the tincture had slipped his mind, but at that moment she was sprawled on her parents' sofa. Her knees were apart in a most unladylike fashion, her turban was at a very peculiar angle, her face was scarlet, and she was staring ardently at him. Abandoned was the word to describe her, and her parents were thoroughly alarmed.
Sigismund was more furious than alarmed, for it was plain to him that this was more than mere inebriation. His sister had imbibed a drink that had been tampered with, and if he discovered who that person was…! His eyes were alight with violent intent, and he was already mentally deciding whether to gut the villain with a sword or puncture him between the eyes with a pistol.
Sybil suddenly gave a loud giggle, and got up unsteadily to wave across at Oliver. "Cooee!" she screeched, employing a new word from Australia that she had decided she liked very much. Still waving, she jumped up and down so that her generous bosom wobbled like jelly. "Cooee, Mr. March! Pleathe come and danth with me!"
Lady Garsington burst into floods of tears, and her husband stood there as if possessed of two left legs. Oliver was aghast. Dear God, his brew was working with a vengeance! Then her overheated gaze met his, and his heart plummeted as he realized he was once again the object of Sybil Garsington's desire.
Sigismund caught his sister by the arm. "It's time to take you back to the house," he said, but that wasn't what Sybil wanted at all. With another piglet squeal she broke free of him, then scampered across the dance floor, scattering couples in all directions. Sigismund set off in pursuit, but lost her near the supper room. He glanced around for a long time, then gave up and returned to his parents. Behind him, the tablecloth on one of the supper tables was raised, and Sybil peeped out. Then she exploded into hysterical giggles and drew back out of sight again.
A cotillion was announced, and it was at this point that Greville led Megan back to Evangeline's sofa. Evangeline and Sir Jocelyn immediately got up to make sure Megan had not been too distressed by what had happened, but there was no time to talk because Greville bent quickly to Rupert.
"I want you and Chloe to make up a foursome for this cotillion with Megan and me," he said quickly.
Rupert was startled. "So it's Megan now, eh?"
"Just do it, there's a good fellow."
Rupert got up, and seized Chloe's hand. "Come on, we're under orders," he said, and without a murmur she rose as well.
Greville held Megan by the hand to lead her on to the floor. "Remember, now," he said, "you are just to follow my lead, and I am not simply referring to dance steps." She looked inquiringly at him, but he said nothing more.