Free Joan Smith by The Kissing Bough Page B

some well-dowered lady foolish enough to marry him. His main attractions were his face and his pleasant line of chatter. Hostesses were always happy to have him on hand as an extra partner at balls, or a stand-in for a dinner party guest who could not come at the last minute. His character was tarnished by his careless way with money, but it was not so blackened that mamas feared to let their daughters stand up with him.
    He always flirted with Jane, as indeed he flirted with any single lady possessed of a competence. She was in the mood to have a handsome gentleman make a little fuss over her. Her bruised pride welcomed it. As it was approaching dinnertime, she decided to make her toilette before going downstairs. She had brought a bronze taffeta gown with a gauze overskirt for Christmas dinner. She unbound her hair and brushed it to a burnished copper, then wound it up in a fancier style than she normally wore, and fastened pearl combs on either side. Her mama’s topaz necklace matched the gown. It was an old family heirloom, an intricate pendant with topazes set in silver filigree, suspended from a heavy silver chain. It lent a medieval touch to her ensemble.
    As she surveyed herself in the mirror, she admitted she was not so lovely as Aurelia, but she thought her more mature, sophisticated appearance might appeal to Sir William. She heard the buzz of conversation from the Gold Saloon as she approached the bottom of the stairs. Sir William was standing just inside the doorway. He turned and looked up at her, then a smile of appreciation lit his handsome, slightly dissipated face.
    It was mainly his eyes that one noticed. They were dark, flashing eyes, set in a thin, rather pale, delicately molded face. He was blond, tall, and slender, and wore his clothes with an ease that even Brummell might have envied. Whatever financial scrapes he was in, he never let his toilette suffer. He came forward, leaving the saloon to greet Jane.
    “Jane,” he said, bowing. “The years are kind to you. Like a vintage wine, you improve with aging.” While he spoke, his dark eyes moved admiringly over her Titian hair, down to her topaz necklace and bronze gown.
    “Your compliments, on the other hand, deteriorate,” she replied, smiling archly. “You must know it is not kind to call a lady’s attention to her age once she is beyond her teens.”
    “I stand corrected. The comparison was wrong on two scores. It is brandy you remind me of, not wine.” He inclined his head to hers and added in a conspiratorial manner, “They say, you know, that wine is for boys, and brandy for men.”
    He offered her his arm to escort her into the saloon. At the archway he stopped and glanced up at the mistletoe, but decided that would be rushing it. But overall he found his interest in Jane quickening.
    “You could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard of Nick’s engagement,” he said. “Little Aurelia is doing pretty well for herself.”
    “You know her?” Jane asked, surprised. His using her first name suggested a certain degree of intimacy.
    “I know the family. I met Aurelia at a party the Huddlestons had a few months ago. I thought at the time she was wasted in such company.” Then he laughed. “Myself not excluded. I am most often to be found amongst the cits and merchants these days. I have lowered my sights from the aristocracy. A well-dowered cit’s daughter will do fine for me. Unless you would like to have me?” he asked, with a glittering smile.
    Jane didn’t bother answering. She was familiar with his flirtatious ways.
    “Are you staying to dinner, Sir William?” she asked.
    “Sir William? Oh, come, my dear Jane. I hope we are on closer terms than that. Call me Willie. Everyone does. To answer your question, I plan to stay for dinner. Lady Elizabeth invited me at church this morning. I ‘misunderstood’ her,” he said, with a knowing grin, “and came with my trunk to spend a few days. Cousin Margaret’s place,