Mischief by Amanda Quick Page B

Zamar.”
    “There is little else in Society that is worth a lengthy conversation.”
    “I fear you are somewhat cynical, my lord.” Selena paused as a small commotion broke out at the far end of the ballroom. “Well, well. It appears that someone interesting other than yourself has arrived.”
    Matthias followed Selena’s glance. There was no mistaking the sly, eager buzz of the murmurs that rippled through the crowd. The anticipation reminded him of the atmosphere that hovered around a pack of hounds shortlybefore the start of the hunt. The scent of blood was in the air.
    A name rode the crest of the conversational wave that splashed across the ballroom. Matthias caught it as it flowed past him.
    “Immodest Imogen. The Waterstone chit. Do you not recall, my dear?”
    “Don’t know the details m’self. Happened three years back. All hushed up because of the family connection to the Marquess of Blanchford. Understand she came into a respectable portion when her uncle died.”
    “Her name was linked to Vanneck’s in a most unpleasant fashion. Found together in a bedchamber at Sandowns’, you know. Lady Vanneck killed herself because of the incident.”
    “Indeed. And she’s still received in polite circles?”
    “Immodest Imogen is nothing if not amusing, my dear. And her aunt is connected to Blanchford.”
    Selena fluttered her blue-and-gilt fan. “Immodest Imogen. I had almost forgotten her. Well, this should certainly prove amusing, my lord.”
    “Do you think so?”
    “Yes, indeed. You were not in Town three years ago when she caused such a stir. An Original, to say the least. Quite the blue-stocking.” Selena smiled. “You will appreciate this, Colchester. She was absolutely impassioned about ancient Zamar.”
    “Was she?”
    “As I recall, she had no taste and absolutely no notion of style. I wonder if she ever learned to waltz properly.”
    Matthias slanted her a glance. “Did you know her well?”
    “
Everyone
knew of her after the incident with Vanneck. It was the talk of the Season. I cannot see her from where I stand, sir. You are tall enough. Can you catch a glimpse of her over the heads of the crowd?”
    “Yes,” Matthias said softly. “I can see her quite clearly.”
    He watched Imogen’s progress with mingled fascination and amused respect. Whether she intended to or not, she was certainly cutting a swath through the ballroom.
    She was dressed in a high-waisted gown of Zamarian green. The color alone was not what made it distinctive, Matthias thought. After all, Zamarian green was popular this Season. It was the dolphin-and-shell design that trimmed the low neckline and the three tiers of flounces on her skirts that made one look twice. He smiled faintly. The motifs were certainly characteristic of Zamarian art, but the dolphins and shells looked rather odd on a ball gown.
    Imogen wore a rather large Zamarian-green turban that concealed all but a few stray curls. The style was more suited to an elderly matron. A gold dolphin pin decorated the front of the imposing headdress.
    Horatia, resplendent in a silver damask gown, was at Imogen’s side. She had substituted an elegant lorgnette for her usual pair of spectacles.
    Matthias swallowed a grin as he watched Imogen progress through the crowd. She did not walk with the tiny, airy steps that most of the other women had practiced so diligently. Rather, she strode forward with energetic enthusiasm.
    As he watched her, it seemed to Matthias that his senses suddenly became more acute. He was aware of the flowery scents of the garden that wafted through the open French doors behind him. The candles massed in the huge chandeliers blazed a little brighter. The hum of conversation was harsher than it had been a few minutes before. And every other man in the crowd suddenly appeared predatory. Matthias knew that last observation was not solely a figment of his overheated imagination.
    “I wonder if she thinks to find a husband,” Selena mused.