young.’
‘And Philippa, in the maroon dress.’
‘The one in the cream dress, the small one with the dark hair, is she a Packard?’
‘Of course, that’s Sasha, christened Alexandra after her mother—a Russian princess by birth, you know. Very beautiful, but afflicted by poor health, and somewhat highly strung.’
‘Hmm.’ Reid mused doubtfully, ‘I would prefer a lady who is strong and capable.’
‘I am sure in nature Sasha is both of those qualities, but you never know if she has inherited more than just her mother’s looks. If it’s a strong gel you want, then you would be wise to settle on Georgia.’ They both surveyed the young lady. ‘Mind you, she would not give you a quiet life.’
‘Indeed?’ Reid smiled at the prospect of a challenge, as he gazed at the four young ladies hovering near the Christmas tree, blissfully unaware of his Uncle Percy’s grand designs. ‘What’s the papa like? I believe he’s an Army man himself, and not to be trifled with by all accounts.’
‘He’s a splendid fellow! Shall I introduce you?’
‘By all means.’
The orchestra began to play and Lord and Lady Westfaling opened the dancing with an elegant polonaise. Sasha felt the beat of the music vibrate through her whole body, her soul stirred by the rousing tune. Beneath the long skirts of her evening gown her brocade slipper tapped in time to the beat.
‘Don’t look, but he’s coming over!’
‘What?’ Sasha glanced at her sister with a puzzled frown. ‘What on earth—?’
‘Don’t look!’ Georgia repeated in an urgent undertone.
Puzzled and curious, Sasha did indeed look. Just for a moment her gaze met the dark blue eyes of the handsome, suntanned man they had seen earlier, before her lashes lowered and she glanced away. She did not know him, but recognised the Earl of Clermount walking at his side, and dipped a curtsy in greeting as her father beamed at his old friend.
‘Percy, old boy, glad to see you!’
‘Conrad.’ After an exchange of bows, Percy turned slightly. ‘I’d like you to meet my nephew, Captain Reid Bowen. He’s been out on the North-West Frontier for the past seven years, and now that he’s returned, bathed in glory and a well-earned commission to major—’
‘In the spring,’ Reid interjected.
‘Quite.’ Percy cast him an exasperated glance. ‘I am persuading him to enjoy life a little, before he takes up a posting to St Petersburg.’
The Brigadier perked up at this fact, and turned to Reid with hand extended. ‘How do you do? Which regiment are you with?’
‘The Royal Fusiliers, Seventh Battalion.’
‘Fine body of men. Queen’s Light Dragoons myself.’
‘I am honoured to make your acquaintance, sir,’ Reid responded truthfully, and for a few moments they made conversation on military matters, before Uncle Percy’s sharp elbow in his ribs reminded him of his duty. ‘Might I have the honour of marking your daughter’s dance card?’
The Brigadier smiled, with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. ‘Which one? I have four of ‘em, as you can see.’
Reid hesitated, just for the blink of an eye, in a quandary as to whether he should state where his interest lay openly, or be more subtle. He plumped for the latter. ‘Well, of course, I would be delighted with any Miss Packard who might care to risk my clumsy two left feet. It has been some while since I practised my dancing.’
Before he had even finished speaking Victoria and Philippa had already thrust their cards beneath his nose, and he dutifully surveyed them and pencilled in his name, while Georgia exclaimed, ‘Oh, what a shame, my card is full! Excuse me, Papa, here is Felix to claim me for the mazurka.’
‘You’ve already had a dance with him this evening, Georgia,’ the Brigadier growled, as his brows lowered upon an anxiously hovering the Right Honourable Felix Westfaling. ‘Scratch him out and let Captain Bowen take his place.’
‘Oh, Papa, that would not do at all!’ exclaimed Georgia. ‘It would be very rude, would it not, Sasha?’
Sasha felt a warm blush creep up her neck as all eyes turned on her, but she murmured in agreement, ‘It may be construed as rather impolite.’
‘Besides, Sasha has not had even one dance yet—can’t he go with her?’
‘I-I’ve lost my card,’ stammered Sasha.
‘Nonsense, it’s in your reticule.’ And with that Georgia whirled away with a flounce of green silk as she took Felix firmly by the elbow and set off to dance around the ballroom floor with him.
The Brigadier felt a brief spurt of annoyance, which boded ill, as his gaze followed that of his errant and impetuous daughter, yet he calmed as Sasha laid her hand on his forearm and murmured soothingly, ‘‘Tis but a phase, Papa, it will soon pass.’ She turned to Captain Bowen and smiled politely. ‘I would be delighted to dance with you, sir.’
‘Me first!’ cried Victoria.
Somewhat curious, Reid Bowen held out his hand to take Sasha’s dance card. He was puzzled, as he glanced at the blank sheet, and resisted the temptation to cast a perusing stare. What was wrong with the girl that no one wanted to dance with her? Buck teeth? Bad breath? A total bore? From his greater height, his eyes lowered, he looked at her, and though she was no great beauty he could find no fault with her neat features, smooth, pale skin and dark brown eyes that glowed with intelligence. He pencilled himself in for two dances, both of them a waltz, later in the evening, and then he turned to the young Victoria and escorted her onto the dance floor. Despite her initial enthusiasm, Victoria was overawed by the handsome and mature gentleman in whose arms she suddenly found herself, and for the life of her she could not think of a word to say, which suited her partner well enough. At the end of the dance, he returned her to her family and then bowed as he went off in search of a much-needed drink.
At ten o’clock a buffet of the most lavish and delicious food was served. Sasha indulged in a portion of sherry trifle and was licking her spoon when Captain Bowen returned to claim her for the first waltz of the evening. As he paused in front of her, with an amused smile and twinkle in his blue eyes, she hurriedly set aside the spoon and bowl, as he proffered his crooked arm to her.
‘Shall we?’
The strains of the ‘Blue Danube’ made her smile with anticipation and pleasure, the waltz being her favourite dance. She accepted with a small inclination of her head, and slipped her hand through his elbow as he led her forwards, every part of her aware of his tall frame at her side.
Though he had to stoop slightly, and she had to reach up to place her hand upon his broad shoulder, Reid was not in the least bit clumsy. Indeed, she had never enjoyed a waltz quite so much. She glanced up at his profile, his straight nose and lean cheeks very masculine. His jaw was firm and his eyes, when he glanced at her as he placed his hand on her waist, were a very dark blue. Following his lead, she swayed and stepped in time to the rhythm of the waltz, her feet and legs moving between his own as he
