Mr. Langdon stood at her side with a young lady. “May I introduce someone to you? Miss Grey, this is my younger sister, Leorah Langdon. She would be delighted to play if you would do me the honor of dancing with me.”
Realizing her mouth was hanging open, Julia closed it and addressed his sister. “I am much obliged to you.” She stood and gave Miss Langdon her place at the instrument while quickly donning her gloves.
Turning to Mr. Langdon, she placed her gloved hand in his and allowed him to lead her toward the dance.
Was he also trying to make a conquest of her? But in the small crowd, perhaps he was afraid of running out of partners and did not want to break his rule of never dancing with the same young lady twice in one night.
Julia was fond of dancing, but rather than focus on enjoying a dance with an agreeable partner, she should be thinking how she might direct Mr. Langdon’s interest toward Phoebe. She might never have a better opportunity, and Phoebe would never forgive her if she did not take every possible occasion to help her win Mr. Langdon.
As they lined up facing each other, she tried to think of something complimentary to say about Phoebe. But once she looked upon his countenance, it was impossible to look away. His warm brown eyes had a thoughtful tilt, his thick dark hair slanting over his forehead like a blackbird’s wing, his side whiskers reaching almost to his jawline . . . the combined effect made her heart beat strangely.
Had she truly once thought his blond, fair-skinned brother more handsome?
The dance began, and she seemed to understand Phoebe’s infatuation. There was something about his bearing, the expression of his countenance. Of course, he must know Phoebe and many other girls fancied themselves in love with him. Well, she wouldn’t be one of his conquests. Overly handsome army officers had never been to her taste, and she loved her cousin too well to ever fall for the man on whom Phoebe had pinned her hopes.
As they danced, every girl in the room was looking at him as though her dearest wish were to be an army officer’s wife. They were looking at Julia as well. She wore her white muslin gown with the square neckline, but as was her wont, she wore little ornamentation, only a small amber cross around her neck and her pearl earrings. Her hair, which she had curled herself, was completely unadorned. She hoped she didn’t look too plain.
Instead of worrying about her appearance, she turned her thoughts to how to influence Mr. Langdon to think favorably of Phoebe.
Julia rather liked matchmaking, and she always enjoyed pleasing Phoebe. And if Mr. Langdon were to ask Phoebe to dance a second time tonight, the girl would be in raptures.
“You are smiling. Are you enjoying the dance so much?” Mr. Langdon quirked an eyebrow at her.
“I enjoy dancing very much, thank you.”
“I should think you were ready to get away from the pianoforte for a bit.”
“Indeed. You are very kind.” His words seemed to suggest he was fishing for a compliment, but when she looked him in the eye . . . What was it that was so unnerving about his eyes that made him seem as if he cared?
She certainly could not allow herself to be silly about this man. She thought a moment and then said, “I am no great dancer. Not like my cousin Phoebe, who is such a spirited girl. She dearly loves a ball.”
The look in his eye changed. Had she said something wrong?
At that moment, in the natural course of the dance, they were forced to change partners. When they came back together again, Mr. Langdon said, “You play and sing exceptionally well, Miss Grey. And I don’t say that lightly, as my mother is something of a connoisseur. But I remembered this about you from the several occasions when we attended the same parties two Seasons ago.”
“Thank you.” She was surprised he remembered. “Are you pleased to be home? I am sure your family was very glad to see you.” She blushed, remembering he had come home due to the grave nature of his wounds. “I should say, once they were sure of your complete recovery.”
“Yes, of course.”
“You are quite recovered, then?”
He smiled down at her. “Yes, thank you. My broken leg healed quite nicely, don’t you think?”
“Nicely enough to allow you to dance.” She almost smiled back at him but then remembered that Phoebe might be watching. And she didn’t want Phoebe to suspect what Julia was thinking at that moment, which was how graceful a dancer, how charming a conversationalist, and how handsome he was.