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poor, groveling artists,” said Lady Lonsdale. “I am very glad to meet you, though, Lord Wayland. I have heard that you performed quite a dashing feat in the park today. I am sorry I missed it.”
    “Yes, well, rescuing fair damsels in distress is a specialty of mine.”
    “So I understand.” Lady Lonsdale smiled at him over her fan.
    The orchestra struck up the lilting strains of a waltz, and Alex turned to Georgina. “Mrs. Beaumont, would you do me the great honor of dancing with me?”
    “Thank you, yes.” As Georgina accepted his arm and went with him to the dance floor he had only just vacated, she said, “I feel I should warn you, though, that I bring more enthusiasm to the dance than grace.”
    “I will confess in turn—my feet are of the two left variety.” One of his hands slid into hers, and the other landed warmly at her waist. “But I daresay we shall rub along well enough together.”
    “I daresay we shall.”
    Indeed they did. Their steps seemed well matched, and soon they were swaying and swooping amid the other couples, taking the corners in dashingly executed spins that sent Georgina’s emerald green skirts swirling.
    She laughed merrily after one especially energetic turn, bringing the gazes of the other dancers in their direction. “I cannot recall when I had such fun waltzing!”
    “Nor I! Dancing is usually a bit of a chore, something I had to do with my sister at country assemblies when I was a lad. But this is quite nice. Quite—different.”
    “So the evening has not proved to be so tedious as you had feared?”
    “How did you know I feared it would be tedious?”
    Georgina smiled slyly. “I have my ways!”
    “Well, I never expected that your company would be tedious. And this ball has not been at all, thanks to you and Lady Elizabeth.”
    Georgina hummed a bit to the music as they turned and swayed. “I do believe this is an Italian song. I could almost think myself home again!” She closed her eyes, and smiled at the blissful moment of music and Alex’s warm arms about her.
    All too soon, the music ended.
    Georgina found herself quite unaccountably disappointed.
    “Shall we take a stroll on the terrace?” Alex asked. “It is sure to be cooler outside.”
    “Oh, yes, what a lovely idea!”
    There were several couples gathered on the Beatons’ terrace, walking, talking quietly, or watching the brightly lit ballroom through the open doors. A few bolder guests could be glimpsed slipping about the garden beyond.
    It was quite an extension of the ball, but much cooler, and lovely beneath the stars.
    Georgina leaned against the marble balustrade, and sipped at the glass of champagne she had caught from a footman’s tray on the way out of the ballroom. It was truly a beautiful night. The London sky was un-characteristically clear, lit by an almost full, pale silver moon. The scent of early roses from the garden hung sweet in the air. The champagne was cool and delicious as it slid down her throat.
    And Alex’s arm was warm and delicious when he leaned on the balustrade beside her.
    “Do you miss your home in Italy very much, Mrs. Beaumont?” he asked quietly.
    Georgina smiled at him. “Dreadfully.”
    “Will you tell me about it? I have been to Spain, and France, and Belgium, but never to Italy.”
    “Are you certain you wish me to speak of it? Once begun, I often cannot stop!”
    “I am certain. Tell me, please.”
    “Well, I have two homes in Italy. One is a small villa at Lake Como, which I purchased after my second husband passed away. It is quite old, sixteenth century, and something is always falling to bits. The plasterer has to be called in almost every year!” Yet even as she complained, her face lit with a small smile.
    “Were there no more modern houses available in the area?”
    “Oh, yes, certainly. But this particular one boasts a very fine fresco in the room I use as a dining room, a lovely work of a classical party group eating grapes and dancing.