Mistress - Amanda Quick [107]
“A bit of fluff?” Iphiginia came to a halt in the middle of the floor.
Herbert gazed at her helplessly. “Masters will never be able to offer you marriage, madam. Everyone knows that if he has determined to violate his most cardinal rule in order to remarry, he will choose some young innocent to bear his heirs. It’s the expected thing.”
“You go too far, Herbert. You know that I do not discuss the details of my relationship with Masters with anyone.” Iphiginia was aware of the covert stares she, and Herbert were receiving from the other dancers.
“I did not mean to offend you, madam.” Herbert looked thoroughly abashed. He cast an embarrassed glance around at the other couples and then took Iphiginia’s arm. He hastily escorted her off the floor. “I pray that you will forgive me.”
“Of course.”
“I spoke out of turn. But I did so only because I am so deeply concerned about you.”
“I know, Herbert.” She patted his arm. “But I am not a young innocent. I am a woman of the world and I am quite capable of looking after myself.”
“If you say so.” Herbert withdrew his handkerchief again and dabbed at the beads of sweat on his brow. “You’re a brave female, m’dear. You will always have my greatest admiration. Please remember that if there is ever any way in which I can be of service, you must not hesitate to call upon me.”
“Thank you, Herbert.” She smiled at him. “Pray, excuse me. I must have a word with someone who just came in.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
Herbert stuffed the crumpled handkerchief back into his pocket. Iphiginia could feel his wistful gaze resting on her as she made her way across the crowded room.
She knew that Herbert meant to be kind and that her aunt wanted to protect her from heartache, but neither of them knew the real truth. Iphiginia did not want to even attempt to explain the bizarre situation in which she found herself.
Curious eyes, most politely averted or hidden behind discreetly held fans, watched her as she headed toward the French doors. Iphiginia knew that the gossip about Masters’s forthcoming engagement had crested into a tidal wave that had inundated Society.
Everyone was talking about her once more, just as they had a few weeks ago when she had descended on the Polite World. But this time they were speculating on her fate.
Iphiginia knew that no one expected Marcus to give up his mistress. It was accepted by one and all that he could and would have both a paramour and a suitable wife.
The real question as far as the Polite World was concerned was whether or not his unpredictable, independent mistress would abandon him rather than share him with a bride.
Society was titillated by the current developments, but it was not shocked. The only thing that could really stun the haute monde would be to discover that the woman Masters intended to wed was his mistress.
The ton would be even more astounded to learn that she had no intention of marrying him.
But no one was even speculating on such bizarre possibilities because, as usual, Society was two steps behind the notorious Earl of Masters.
Iphiginia slipped through the open doors and escaped to the cool darkness of the terrace. A handful of other people had drifted outside. They glanced at her as she emerged from the ballroom.
Iphiginia ignored the interested gazes and sought the seclusion of the far corner of the terrace. She needed a few moments of privacy. It had been a trying day and an even more trying evening.
The sound of a footstep behind her and the clearing of a masculine throat told Iphiginia that she no longer had this section of the terrace to herself.
“Mrs. Bright?” Bennet said in a very low voice.
Iphiginia turned slowly to face him. She summoned up a smile. “Good evening, Mr. Cloud.”
“I saw you come out here.” Bennet glanced awkwardly toward the brilliantly lit ballroom. Then he looked back at her. He squared