punctuated with loud conversation and gales of laughter as everyone made their way to their seats.
Marina greatly appreciated the distraction for she needed a few moments to regain her equanimity.
At the longest table, the Buckleigh ladies took their proper places near Lady Darley. Not surprisingly, there was no sign of Papa. Nor, to her utter relief, did she see Lord Cortland and Mr. Sefton.
“Ooh,” Deirdre sighed, gazing around at the fine silverware and large centerpieces, “Mr. Penhurst is certainly bringing a bit of London flair to our little village.”
“Lady Buckleigh,” Lady Darley called gaily, “It seems our gentlemen cannot leave the billiard room so I have sent footmen to set up a small table with enough nourishment to sustain them.”
This was met with amusement and appreciation on Mama’s part, and Marina thought by Lady Darley’s manner, she must be used to dealing with gentlemen who did not like to dance.
Marina managed to smile at the other guests seated nearby, and within minutes, the conversation whirled around them all, as footmen brought in trays of food.
Everyone took discreet notice of the food Lady Darley presented her guests. A clear soup came out for the first course, followed by roast partridge with French beans and mushrooms. The guests looked duly impressed. Marina managed a few bites before the footmen cleared the table and brought in great platters of veal, boats of heavy sauce, potatoes, and countless savory dishes.
Feeling quite unlike herself, Marina remained silent while Deirdre and Mama gossiped about the ball. In this bright noisy place, she could almost convince herself that she had imagined the most incredibly romantic thing that had ever happened to her—followed so closely by the most embarrassing thing.
Too bad that odiously arrogant Lord Cortland had interrupted them. Her more practical and charitable side said this attitude was a little unfair, for it really would have been unwise for her to have stayed any longer with Mr. Sefton.
Her heart fluttered anew at the memory of those brief moments in Mr. Sefton’s arms.
Could it possibly happen this quickly?,
she mused with a sense of wonder.
Could one fall in love in a moment?
She had heard of love at first sight of course, but had always put it down to the fancy of poets.
Checking her heart again, she almost smiled. This exhilarating flutter could quite possibly be love. She dropped her hands to her lap, knowing she must behave with all circumspection.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything, Marina? I vow I’m hungry enough to eat a bear,” Deirdre said with some gusto.
“Do not be indelicate, Deirdre dear,” Mama said.
So as not to raise suspicion, and to avoid speaking, Marina began to tuck into her food, realizing after a few bites that she was indeed hungry. She wondered if love made one forget such mundane things as food.
The festive midnight feast continued, and after cinnamon-stewed apples and sharp cheeses were served to finish the meal, the guests began to rise and mingle, hailing friends and arranging dances for when the orchestra commenced playing.
“Oh, there is Lord Cortland,” Deirdre hissed excitedly. “He is a marquis, Mama, the heir to the Duke of Hawksmoor. Isn’t he terribly handsome?”
“Indeed, Deirdre, he is a most handsome man,” Mama replied through unusually tight lips.
Marina’s startled gaze instantly went in the direction her sister was looking.
He was standing next to a man Marina had danced with earlier: Mr. Fairdale. She did have to concede that Lord Cortland was quite handsome—not nearly so as Mr. Sefton, for she did not like the arrogant arch to his left brow. That raised brow seemed to say that he found them all something to marvel at.
Recalling his comments to Mr. Sefton, she wondered at the animus between the men. From what she had learned of Lord Cortland’s disreputable behavior, she was convinced Mr. Sefton was more than likely blameless in the