“Hmm. That might not be a bad idea.” A devious smile appeared on her mother’s lips. “We would have to be subtle about it.”

“Yes, of course.” After all, her brother was not stupid. He merely had some stupid ideas at times.

* * *

Dobbins broke the seal on the letter. He’d been wondering what was going on and hadn’t even minded paying for the news.

We had to stop for a while. The mort’s got more fart catchers around her. I’ll give them a week or two of doin’ nothing, and she’ll be easy to get to again.

He tossed the paper in the fireplace. She must be good and scared to have more footmen going around with her. Mitchell was right. After a week or so, they’d think it was nothing but her imagination.

* * *

Several hours later, John entered the Markham House ballroom after the receiving line had ended. He had begged off escorting his mother and sister so that he could arrive before the supper dance, but not early enough to be forced to dance with other young ladies. Despite the crowded room, his gaze was immediately drawn to Eleanor. She turned to smile at someone, and his breath left him as if Jackson had landed a punch. My God, she was beautiful. She seemed to sparkle from the top of her head to the bottom of her gown. Little puffed sleeves showed off the small bit he could see of her arms above her gloves. Yet even the long kid gloves couldn’t hide the perfection of her arms. A few curls danced around her elegant neck. And her bosoms rose temptingly from her bodice. He almost wished she would wrap her shawl around her shoulders, but the room was too warm for that. He’d simply stand by her side until the supper dance. Bolingbroke led her out to the dance floor for a country dance, and John wanted to go up to them and demand she stand up with him. The feeling was so strong, he grabbed onto a potted plant to stop himself from walking forward.

“Dancing with trees?” St. Albans held up his quizzer.

“I wanted to see how sturdy it was.”

John’s almost former friend lowered the glass. “It had nothing at all to do with Lady Eleanor standing up with Bolingbroke, I suppose.”

“Nothing at all,” John lied.

“Of course not.” St. Albans took out a handkerchief and polished his quizzing glass. “That would indicate some sort of jealousy. One doesn’t experience that emotion unless one is falling in love.”

John noticed St. Albans staring at the dance floor right where Lady Alice was dancing with a gentleman he didn’t recognize. “I would think gazing at a lady standing up with another gentleman is the same thing.”