“I’m sorry, did you say something?” The insouciant look on St. Albans’s face didn’t fool John for a second. St. Albans cared more for Eleanor’s sister than he wanted to let on.

“Nothing.” John barely kept his lips from twitching. “Nothing at all.”

“Your mother, sister, and Lytton arrived quite a while ago. What made you decide to come later?”

He was not going to admit it was to avoid dancing with other ladies. “I had some business to finish.”

“Lord St. Albans,” a handsome lady in her middle years said. “Please make your friend known to me.”

That was forward. Did John need to warn her off?

“My lady, allow me to present Lord Montagu. Montagu, Lady Markham.”

John quickly bowed. “Good evening, my lady. I trust my mother told you I would be a bit late.”

“She did.” Her ladyship smiled at him. “Now that you are here, I shall introduce you to a young lady who is in need of a dance partner.” She raised a brow at St. Albans. “You may come along as well, my lord.”

John stifled a groan. This was exactly what he had not wanted to happen. Miss Battersley had very large, blue-gray eyes and blond hair and seemed very young. He bowed. “Miss Battersley, a pleasure.”

She curtseyed. “It is very nice to meet you, my lord.”

“Miss Battersley is making her come out. Her father, Sir Cecil, is in the diplomatic corps in Belgium.”

Perhaps she would be more interesting than he had originally thought. “Will you do me the honor of standing up with me?”

A pretty blush appeared on her cheeks. Then again, she was a pretty girl. “I would like that very much.”

She placed her hand on his arm. “How do you like Belgium?”

“Oh, I have never lived there. I attended school here. My aunt, Lady Kirkwall, is sponsoring me.” She glanced up at him. “The weather has been quite nice recently.”

“Yes, it has. I hope it will continue.” Suddenly he was tired of talking about the weather.

“As do I. My aunt wants to hold an al fresco luncheon and rain would spoil her plan.” Miss Battersley smiled politely. Or appropriately. Not too wide. Not too anything.

“Ah, yes. Rain would certainly put paid to that idea. Are you enjoying your Season?”

“I should not admit it, but I am rather.” She peeped at him from beneath her blond lashes.

Someone had told him that ladies were supposed to show a proper ennui. Eleanor never did that. Everything she did, she did with purpose and honest emotion. “Excellent. What do you like most thus far?”

“The shopping and carriage rides.” Miss Battersley appeared to think for a moment. “And the morning visits. They are very nice.” Her forehead puckered. “As long as it does not rain.”