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The rule was they were not allowed to stare at each other. That was doubly so from across a crowded ballroom. The longing, the passion between them, was just too obvious. They both failed at the rule. Agatha could be haughty because she failed at it less. To Antony, it was failing but also winning.
In his belly sometimes he felt like a peeper, a looker, but it was Agatha. He certainly was not the only man looking. He wanted her to have a good time and wanted to swoop in to save her from dreadful conversations with the offer of a dance. That was something he couldn’t do as often; his wife watched him more lately. Antony held up to her scrutiny, and if he didn’t what then? He no longer cared and the liberation felt glorious.
Count and Countess Masi were visiting from Paloma, Italy. The countess was the cousin of Lord Alton-Taylor. There was no doubt a dinner and ball would be held in their honor. The whole of London was hopeful for an invitation. The Lord and Lady were somehow related to the Royal Family. That made association with them even more important to some in the Ton.
Vivian was sure she and her husband would receive theirs. She and her associates wondered if new titled people would be invited. The King and Queen, along with the Princess Dowager, had already been pushing the two communities together. There was backlash amongst the oldest families.
Some thought London was better when the two groups lived on opposite sides of the city. Some were beginning to have balls, teas, and garden parties but not inviting new titled couples. Vivian hoped this occasion would be one of those times. The Alton-Taylors were high on the social ladder. They didn’t have to make nice or invite people they didn’t want around.
She felt her stomach drop when she saw Lady Danbury, Lord and Lady Smythe-Smith, Lord and Lady Cummings, and Lord and Lady Hastings amongst the party goers. At dinner her husband sat next to Lady Danbury. Vivian was across from Antony and remained laser focused on the two “friends.” Lady Danbury sat next to the countess. The women seemed to enjoy conversing though the countess had been in Italy since childhood so she didn’t have a total command of the English language. Occasionally they’d pull in Lord Ledger and the three of them would chat and laugh.
How could this woman be climbing the ladder so damn quickly? It had to be the Queen. She had to be sponsoring her appearance everywhere. First, she was titled, became a lady-in-waiting to the Queen. Then she maintained everything after the death of her husband. Not to mention that this woman was suddenly such good friends with her husband. Vivian was no fool. While it was unlikely anything had happened between the two, Antony couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
Now they were in the ballroom laughing, talking, and having glasses of champagne. After watching them dance together, Vivian kept a very tight leash on her husband. No, he couldn’t step out to smoke his pipe. No, he couldn’t get fresh air in the courtyard. He would be with her and they would socialize with their friends, not his “friend.”
The party was lively, fantastic food and wonderful music. There was much dancing and plenty of boisterous conversation. Agatha had one dance with Antony. The little smirk he wore while touching her hand and waist made her smile. When the music ended, she slid her hand away from his as she curtsied and he bowed.
Then she stepped away to get a flute of champagne. She was pulled into a conversation on the prospect of fall parties. This part was always boring but a necessity. Agatha loved dining and interesting subjects of dinner conversation. She was fond of dancing, though the number of men who added her to their dance card was too many.
They knew Prince Adolphus was out. The contest to make her the next Lady someone or other was back on. Agatha was hiding out for the time being, enjoying quail with chamembert and resting on a chaise lounge. She'd lost sight of Antony a while ago. She had been doing her best to give her time to anything but eye courting him.
“A dance, my lady?”
“Lord Rutledge,” she stood to curtsy for the Marquess of Lothian, Viscount of Briene.
“Shall we?”
“I’m going to have to decline, my lord. There is an immediate need to rest my feet. Perhaps another time.” Agatha smiled. He was handsome, though a bit persistent. At twenty seven his parents were probably beside themselves he wasn’t married.
“I shall hold you to that, my lady.”
He bowed and walked away. Agatha took a deep breath in and out. She really was tired of dancing. How many times could one expect to go round and round without getting dizzy or sick? Antony was the exception. Wasn’t he always the exception?
She could probably dance with him all night; wear out the violinists before their feet ever grew tired. Whenever Agatha found herself staring at him tonight, he was looking at her. She'd smile a little, turning away. Their eyes lost each other a few times. It seemed as if all the single and widowed men in the room knew something, someone, had her attention.
Except Lord Rutledge. He wanted to take her as far away as he could. He had no idea it was impossible. If Agatha ever found the man with that kind of draw, she might take back her word and marry him.
“Lady Danbury, join me on the veranda for a clove.” Countess Masi and Lady Alton-Taylor approached her. “The Count discovered them in Persia. I’m sure its only a matter of time before titled Britons sing their praises.”
He conversed with Lord Smythe-Smith but saw Lady Danbury leave the ballroom with the hostess and guest of honor. Antony listened politely about quail hunting and polo matches. He really should come to the Polo Club more often and join a team. It was no longer restricted; the need to boycott come and gone. Lord Hamilton and Doctor Trimple joined the conversation and it became more about polo and then polo horses.
“You should invest, Antony,” the doctor said. “Horse breeding can only make a rich man richer.”
“Do we really need more money?” Antony asked.
“Need and want are two different things.” Lord Hamilton said. “And I want more money.”
“I just like horses.” Lord Smythe-Smith said. “I want to buy a bit of land in the country. See if I can start breeding there.”
“I might be looking to sell country land.” Antony said, sighing as he thought of the properties that bound him forever to Vivian. “We should lunch at the club this week and discuss it.”
“You only need two good horses to start, Smythe-Smith.” Lord Hamilton patted his back. “I have three beautiful mares and two are for sale.”
Distracted for a moment, Antony saw the Countess and Lady return to the ballroom without Agatha. No matter how hard he squinted it would be impossible to see through walls and windows. He didn’t like she could be out there alone. Perhaps she'd gone home. He knew she was tired of being passed around from dance partner to dance partner as if she'd debuted this spring.
He tried not to obviously sigh from boredom when he saw Lord Rutledge creep out of the ballroom. That man followed Agatha around all evening like a lost hound. He asked her to dance at least twice; she politely declined. Marquesses weren’t used to taking no for an answer. Now that Antony’s eyes couldn’t find her, he did not plan to take his eyes off him.
It took a little while to disengage himself from the polo horse conversation, but he did. Antony started to make his way toward the doors and the courtyard. He was shocked when someone grabbed hold of him.
“Vivian, what are you doing?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“I want a bit of fresh air. It gets stuffy in a room full of people in the middle of summer.”
“No,” she shook her head.
“No what?”
“No, I don’t think you need fresh air, Antony. You will stay in here with me.”
“What is going on with you? You’ve been watching me like a hawk all night.”
“How would you know? You’ve been watching someone else altogether.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, knowing full well what she was talking about.
“You know what, get your precious fresh air, Antony.” she let him go. “Choke on it.”
“Vivian,”
She turned and walked away, making sure it didn’t cause a scene. There was no way she would let anyone suspect she'd just had a spat with her husband. It only took one spark to start the inferno of ton gossip. There was also no way she would let him make her angry. They’d been married almost two decades; she was not about to give him the upper hand.
Antony looked after her for just a moment before hurrying outside. Sure enough, though he tried to move the conversation into a darker corner, Lord Rutledge was violating Lady Danbury’s personal space. Antony could not see her as the Marquess was quite tall, over six feet, and looming. He could hear her though; she was trying to talk him out of her space. Then she decided she'd had enough and spoke louder.
“Don’t you ever raise your voice to me, you whore.” He slapped her viciously with the back of his hand. Lady Danbury cried out as she hit the concrete.
“Agatha!”
The Marquess had been reaching down to grab her. He turned just in time to see Lord Ledger running in his direction swinging.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on her! Ever!” the punch connected with the Marquess’ chin but he was still standing.
“Ledger, you just stepped way over the line.”
“Let’s see what you intend to do about it.”
“God, Antony, no,” Agatha got to her feet. She nearly tripped again over the abundance of dress. “Antony, no!”
The fists were flying, both men grunting and cursing as they went at each other in an angry frenzy. Agatha wanted to put a stop to it. She was sure she'd be hurt if she stepped into the melee. Luckily, Lord Alton-Taylor and other men from inside the party were soon outside breaking up the fight.
“You are through, Ledger!” the Marquess hollered. “You won't find a sanctuary in this city!”
“If you think that I fear you, you are mistaken.”
“Then you are a fool.”
“Antony, you’re bleeding.” Agatha rushed over to him. She took her handkerchief and dabbed at his lip. The Marquess was now arguing with the host. She did not want to be involved in that. “What were you thinking?”
“Are you alright?” he caressed her cheek, growing even more angry when Agatha winced. She was hurt. She was hurt and Rutledge caused it. “I was thinking that I was going to kill him for putting his hands on you. I was thinking nothing more or less.”
“Get your hands off my husband!” Vivian screeched, rushing onto the scene with fire in her eyes. “What is going on here?”
“Lady Ledger…” Agatha moved away from Antony.
“I want an explanation right now.” She demanded. “I knew as soon as your kind showed up on the scene everything would be ruined. Two men of means fighting over the likes of you.”
“You need to watch how you speak to me.” Lady Danbury flashed anger of her own.
“Antony, explain yourself!”
“There is nothing to explain. You are causing a scene with your racist ranting. You owe Lady Danbury an apology.”
“You must be joking.” Vivian’s eyes widened.
“Lord Rutledge made a pass at me.” Agatha said, loud and clear enough for all to hear. “Lord Ledger was only defending my honor.”
“He knocked her to the ground.” Antony added.
“Royalty making a pass at you?” Vivian laughed a bit and sneered. “I doubt that seriously.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Alright, stop!” Antony held up his hand. His face was killing him, not to mention other body parts hit by fists. “You are out of line Vivian, and it won't go on another instant. Lord Alton-Taylor, I am going to escort Lady Danbury to her carriage. Is Lord Rutledge gone?”
“He is in a carriage and off the premises. Lady Danbury, please forgive any terrible behavior from my cousin. When he drinks, he forgets himself.”
“I just want to go home.” Agatha said. “I had the loveliest evening until just a few minutes ago. Thank you, Lord Alton-Taylor. Please thank Lady Alton-Taylor for me.”
“I don’t know if I should hold you up, or you me.” Antony whispered as they made their way through the bewildered, gossiping crowd of party goers. A few of the women reached for Lady Danbury with sympathetic faces.
“If you expect me to hold you up, Lord Ledger, you’ll be flat on the ground.”
“Agatha?” he looked at her with pain in his eyes.
“Look at your face,” she said. “That eye will be black in less than an hour’s time, even with ice. You are very much above fighting like a street urchin.”
“That man put his hands on you. He knocked you to the ground. If his cousin hadn’t come to break us up, I would’ve sent him to hospital.”
“I bet you want me to clap and swoon for your effort.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want you to be cross with me. I’m seeing stars, Agatha.”
“Oh god, are you alright?” she stopped walking and took a good look at his face. “You look as if you’ve gotten into a brawl with two men.”
“I hope he looked worse.”
“I assure you that he did not. Though he was not without regret. I still think you were being overly masculine.” Agatha started walking again. Antony tried to match her stride.
“No man, no one, is ever going to slap you in my presence and not walk away limping.”
“Careful, my lord, the next person might be your wife.”
“Agatha, I am so sorry. I don’t know what she was thinking, Vivian has never been the biggest fan of the changes in the Ton. But I’ve never seen her act that way. It made me angry and shameful.”
Vivian acted out of character tonight, even for Vivian. Could she really suspect, or even know, that they were having an affair? Did she think she could trick him into telling her? There were few people more manipulative than Antony’s father, the former Lord Ledger. If he couldn’t get Antony to bend then Vivian surely wouldn’t. This was especially so with something as important as Lady Danbury’s reputation on the line.
The Marquess promised to end Ledger, but there was little doubt he could. What he could do instead was turn his ire on Agatha. Even the rumor of impropriety on an unmarried or widowed woman could be the end of her. Antony shuddered to think the Marquess could put Violet in his crosshairs. They were preparing for her debut next spring and were sure the suitors would be plentiful. One accusation or rumor could dry up every invitation; every prospect.
As they approached the line of carriages, the footman Branford opened the door and placed the stool on the ground.
“I’m sorry this happened tonight.” He said. “Will you be alright?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Will you?”
“Yes,” he took her gloved hand, holding it for just a moment. He kissed it as a gentleman was allowed to do and then bowed. “Lady Danbury,”
“Lord Ledger.” She curtsied before being helped into her carriage.
As it left the property, Antony headed back to the party. After all that happened, he would not be able to argue with Vivian tonight. What she said to Agatha was beyond the pale. It was also going to split the Ton; those who agreed and those who did not. It was now said in the open so there would be people who no longer felt the need to just whisper about it over glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice and champagne with brunch.
There was no way the couple would get over their feelings about tonight in a day or so. For so many years Antony let things she said slide off his back. It was better to keep as much peace as he could for himself and his daughter. Tonight, the peace had been irreparably shattered, the shards too small to ever glue back together.
***