Free Kate Noble by Compromised

Evangeline cut her off with a wave of her hand.
    “Give him your full attention for more than two minutes, and any gentleman will become taken with you, I promise.”
    And now, Gail stood with young Lord Ommersley, cheerfully lecturing him on the presumptiveness of Lord Elgin, who had retrieved the friezes from right off the side of Greece’s Parthenon.
    “And did he not realize that he is contributing to the global impression that England is nothing more than a conquering giant, pillaging every country we choose? Those marble friezes belong in Athens, they are part of their history! And if—”
    “Miss Alton!” Lord Ommersley interrupted, his Adam’s apple bobbing on every cracking syllable. “I wonder, would you care to step out onto the balcony?”
    Gail furrowed her brow. “The balcony? Why?”
    Ommersley immediately backtracked. “Or, perhaps, a, er, a dance?”
    “Dance? Oh, well, thank you, Lord Ommersley, but I’m afraid I don’t dance well. I mean, I danced the first few because it would be unseemly of me not to, this being a ball for Evie and me, but I am not very—”
    “Well,” he interrupted, completely unfazed, “perhaps I can fetch you another glass of punch. After, maybe I can convince you otherwise.”
    Gail glanced down at her cut glass cup and saw that it was drained to the very bottom. How on earth had that happened? she thought with a small frown. The punch was especially delicious tonight, but this was the third glass Ommersely had brought for her. Or was it the fourth? She shrugged.
    Gail gave Ommersley a brilliant smile and handed him her cup. “Thank you ever so much. Another glass would be delightful.”
     
    MAX and Will located their hosts, quickly introducing themselves. Lady Alton was most pleased to have a guest with a name as old as Longsbowe. Sir Geoffrey was quite jovial in his greeting, shaking hands with both and, with a politician’s knack for names and faces, took care to remember Will and Max from their travels.
    “Vienna, wasn’t it?” Sir Geoffrey voiced, smiling good-naturedly. “As I recall, Mr. Holt was particularly enamored of their opera house.”
    “I doubt it was the opera house, per se,” Max drawled. “More likely a certain dan—”
    Will interrupted his smirking friend quickly. “Sir Geoffrey, how are your lovely daughters? We must beg an introduction, the ball being in their honor, after all.”
    “I believe they are on the ballroom floor at the moment. At least, Evangeline is,” Romilla answered, her discerning gaze entirely focused on Viscount Fontaine. “If you like, have a glass of punch, it is particularly excellent. This set will conclude shortly, I will be happy to introduce you after. And you as well, Mr. Holt.”
    Both gentlemen bowed in acquiescence.
    “Well,” remarked Will, as they found their way to the refreshments table. “We have no doubt that you have the mother’s blessing.”
    “Stepmother,” Max grumbled. He reached for the ladle from the punch bowl, but a long narrow hand had reached it first. Max watched as the tall, painfully thin young gentleman filled a glass halfway with the red punch. Replacing the ladle, the young man placed the cup on the table, and then, by means of some container concealed up his sleeve, poured a clear liquid into the cup, diluting the punch until it was a light pink. He looked around nonchalantly as he did so, only blushing when he saw Max watching him openly. As no one else seemed to have noted the oddity of his behavior (or the oddity of what was hiding in his sleeve), the tall young gentleman gave a wry smirk.
    “Some girls need a little encouragement to, ah, enjoy the festivities,” he said, placing his hand in his breast pocket, and transferring his sleeve’s occupant there, while giving Max an easy wink, his sandy hair falling limply over his brow.
    Watching the prankster make his way through the crowd, Will inquired, “What was that about?”
    “I believe he’s trying to improve