Otherwise, it would be an evening of mingling, gentle conversation, and flirting. The hired tables and chairs were strategically placed to allow all comers to be on display while having the ability to conduct reasonably private chats. The elaborate centerpieces of each table—Grecian urns surrounded by palm fronds and clusters of gold, yellow, and red anemones, narcissus blooms, and poppies—added to the sense of privacy. Pedestals evenly situated around the walls held shallow bowls of water and lotus flowers.
A pleasant respite from the grand balls but still an important element in the season’s Marriage Mart.
Rose tweaked a few of the flowers, then turned one of the urns a quarter inch to the left. Around her, carefully skirting the chalk painting, the house staff scurried about, finalizing the decorations. The food tables positioned between the pedestals of lotus blossoms were already laden with some foods—biscuits, small cakes, and nuts—and covered with linen, while others awaited the arrival of fruits, cheese, lemonade, and ratafia, which would be displayed only moments before the arrival of the first guests.
A warm hand closed around Rose’s elbow, and Edmund Timmons’s low timbre whispered near her ear. “My dear, it’s all perfect. You should rest.”
She smiled. “Did Sarah appeal to you?”
“She’s concerned you may collapse before the evening is out.”
“She’s far too presumptuous for a lady’s maid.”
“And you could not function without her.”
“True.” She turned to her father and gave him a firm kiss on the cheek.
He gave her a look of mock surprise. “Here now. A lady should not be so affectionate in public.”
“Bollocks.”
His laughter echoed around the room, causing several of the servants to glance their way. “Rose, darling, you will be the ruin of us all.”
She tilted her head back haughtily. “Then I’d best hie myself to Yorkshire forthwith, sir, before I bring scandal down on the house of Huntingdale.”
“Well, if not Yorkshire, you could easily go on the stage.”
“The next Elizabeth Barry, at your service.”
Edmund took her hands in his, then paused. “Your hands are chilled to the bone.” He frowned. “You really are acting.”
Rose relented. “Mother—”
“—will fuss even if the king appears and pronounces it divine.” He studied her eyes. “This is not about your mother.”
Rose chewed her lip. “I have heard a rumor...”
“Ah. Then you keep your head up, your manners perfect, and stay close to your sister. If there is a next step for the two of you, he must make it. But remember what I said. If they are continuing to work against Bentley, he may want you to keep your distance.”
She nodded. “I have not—”
He waited a moment. “Have not what?”
Rose took a deep breath. “Have not felt so uncertain about everything since I came out ten years ago.”
Edmund took her elbow and turned her toward the doors. “A case of nerves happens to the best of us, Rose. And it never gets easier, no matter how old you get.”
Rose was pleased to see his limp less pronounced than earlier as Edmund escorted her to the base of the stairs. He nodded upward. “Go. Rest. Let Sarah make you beautiful. Your mother will eagerly take center stage tonight. Then you can stand back and let all your work shine.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
Two hours later, Rose—now coiffed and gowned in burgundy and cream, with a burgundy lace cap pinned lightly atop the upswept style—returned to the ballroom just as the trays of fruit and cheese were being arranged. Sarah had rescued the gown from four seasons ago by removing flounces from the hem and adding panels of cream gauze that gave the burgundy skirt a pinkish glow on the sides.
Lady Dorothea wandered the room, stunning in a white and gold gown that—while tailored after a traditional woman’s toga—had been embossed with enough frills and ribbons to please the heart of even the most demanding Society matron. The tiara embedded in her still-blonde hair sparkled in the candlelight like the sun itself. Rose could tell she was searching for something to complain about. When she spotted Rose, she paused, sighed, and crossed to her daughter.
“I must say, Rose, you have outdone yourself.”
“So what do you want to change?”
