So the Viscount gratified his wife and all his well-wishers by appearing with staggering regularity at the Assemblies, causing even leading optimists, like Lady Sefton, to prophesy that his marriage would be the making of him.
Another gentleman who had taken to patronizing Almack’s more than was usual was that ladies’ favourite, Sir Montagu Revesby. Blackballed he might have been by his fellow-men at Watier’s, but for all their exclusiveness the patronesses of Almack’s were not proof against air, manner, and the easy address which characterized Sir Montagu. Had he been of plebeian birth, of course, no amount of air or manner would have availed him in those august eyes, but happily for himself his lineage was irreproachable. Such censorious remarks as were made by Mr Fakenham, and others of his kidney, were generally ascribed to jealousy, and not much heeded; and it was only the older and soberer members amongst the ladies who viewed with disapproval Sir Montagu’s increasing attentions towards Miss Milborne.
For there could be no doubt that Sir Montagu’s sudden predeliction for dancing had its root in his admiration of the Incomparable. Until his entry into the lists, the knowledgeable had considered Lord Wrotham to be his Grace of Severn’s most serious rival. But Wrotham had never succeeded in walking away with Miss Milborne from under his grace’s nose, and this was what Sir Montagu in the easiest manner possible contrived to do. It may have been that the Beauty did not altogether relish the certainty with which Severn claimed her hand for the German waltz; it may have been that she found Sir Montagu’s light touch a relief after the passionate earnestness of her young admirers; certain it was that she bestowed her hand on him for the waltz, and left his grace discomfited. His self-consequence was too great to allow of his following George’s example of folding his arms and gloweringly watching Miss Milborne’s progress round the room. He led another lady out to dance, but his manoeuvres on the floor to keep Miss Milborne under observation were extremely diverting to several persons who had been watching the little comedy, notably my Lord Sheringham, who gave a spurt of laughter and bade his wife, with whom he was dancing, watch Monty cutting Severn out with the Incomparable! His grace was too pompous to be popular with the greater number of his contemporaries, and the notion of cutting him out himself occurred to Sherry. He entered into a wager with his cousin Ferdy that he would do it, backing himself for a handsome sum, and engaging not to make the attempt until the Duke was again soliciting Miss Milborne’s hand. He surrendered Hero to Mr Ringwood, who had come with them to the Assembly Room, and bore down upon Miss Milborne just as the Duke made her a formal bow, and began to say: “May I hope, ma’am — ?”
“’Evening, Severn!” interrupted his lordship cheerfully. “My dance, Bella, I think!”
The Duke eyed him frostily. “I was about to beg Miss Milborne to do me the honour of bestowing her hand upon me,” he said. “Ma’am — ”
His most mischievous smile danced in Sherry’s eyes, drawing an answering gleam from Miss Milborne. “Oh, I was before you in the lists!” he said outrageously. “For old times’ sake, Bella, my sweet life!”
“Sherry, how can you?” she said, a tremor of laughter in her voice. But she gave him her hand and let him lead her on to the floor. “You are quite shameless!” she told him, as they began to circle round the room. “I had not thought what a long time it is since I danced the waltz with you!”
“Too long, by Jove!” responded his lordship promptly. “Ah, Bella, you should never have refused me! What a couple we must have made!”
She laughed up at him. “I never liked you as well until you gave up wanting me to marry you, Sherry!”
“I? Good God, don’t I carry a broken heart in my breast?”