"Ruin her? No, never!" Jonathan protested, outraged.
"Truly? For I can see the love and even lust written plainly on your face even if you are trying to hide it from yourself," Clifford pressed in a low tone.
"I would never compromise her, I swear it." The sandy-haired young man sighed raggedly. "All right, I admit it. I love her. There, I've said it now. But must never say it again. Perhaps it was wrong of me, but I wanted one last day and night with her, one memorable ball, one romantic evening when she was all mine. When I could hold her in my arms and pretend that it would be forever, then let her go. At least I would have a memory of one perfect evening with the woman of my dreams."
Clifford let out a short laugh. "Except that you've made a complete muddle of it. You haven't spoken one word to her in hours, and she hasn't stopped long enough for you to get in one dance."
"Let her go her own way," Jonathan said with a wave of his hand. "I can't keep her. I can't stop her. She's not mine, Clifford. She can never be mine. I have to let her go. You know all she and her family want is for her to marry well. I'll do whatever I can to stop her from becoming any further involved with that bastard who calls himself Ferncliffe now. But I will have to be careful that my interference does not seem as if it's motivated by selfishness and jealousy."
Clifford asked in a low voice, "Have you found out anything useful yet?"
"My people have come up with nothing. But I'm sure between them and Thomas's all will be revealed."
"Let's hope so. The more I see of the shifty earl, the more he worries me."
"Me too. Though I'm even more worried about our old friend and his brothers."
"As am I. I don't know Jason as well as you, but he's a good man. We can only do our best to find him and his family. Or information about them. And try not to fear the worst," Clifford added, seeing his friend's grim expression.
Jonathan said nothing intelligible, just growled.
"Ferncliffe is bad enough. That toad Breedon isn't any better," Clifford observed, seeing them finish their first dance, and launch straight into their second.
"No, he's not. In his case, though, I feel sure that Pamela won't be so foolish as to have her head turned. He has nothing to recommend him except his good looks and charm. I'm sure her Aunt Susan will forcibly remind her that looks fade, and charm does not put a roof over one's head, or food on the table."
"I can hear a sermon coming up," Clifford teased lightly, trying to ease his friend's tension.
Jonathan's nostrils flared. "Well, in that case, you can leave me to my own devices."
"I shall. But just think about what I've said about Pamela."
Jonathan sighed. "The sad thing is, my dear Clifford, I can't seem to think of anything else but her. However, I must tamp down my inclinations, however strong, and do the right thing for all concerned."
"There's little pleasure in tamping them down."
Jonathan rolled his eyes heavenward. "Please, spare me, or I shall have to throw myself into the nearest freezing river to tamp them down!"
Clifford laughed sadly, and went to join his wife and the Duke and Duchess. Charlotte was feeling a bit fatigued, so they planned to head home shortly.
The second dance with Captain Breedon having ended, Pamela asked him to take her for some punch. Since the tables were behind where Jonathan was standing, she would have to walk past him. Good manners dictated he would have to ask her to dance. Then she could make her move.
As she had hoped, her gambit succeeded. As they came near the pillar, Jonathan bowed to her and her companion.
"Captain Breedon, good to see you again."
"Vicar," the captain acknowledged coolly. "I hope you're well."
"I was wondering if I could prevail upon Miss Ashton to honor me with the next dance."
"We were just going to get some punch," the Captain replied.
"We shall join you in a moment," Pamela said with a smile. "There is quite a crush at the tables, and the musicians are so fine tonight, it's a pleasure to dance."
She placed her hand on Jonathan's arm and allowed him to lead her to the nearest set, about half way up the floor.
It was a moderately lively reel, and she commented upon the many sets and the fact that the music was one of her favorite pieces.
Jonathan merely grunted in reply.
She tried to draw him out, asking if Belinda was enjoying herself, but he merely shrugged.
Deciding mere conversation was not going to work, she renewed her assault upon him via the flirtatious mode.