“Certainly not,” Aaron agreed. Then he bobbled his head. “Though you might want tosometimesmake yourself scarce.”
“Good Lord,” Clio had muttered as she left the room.
But she’d come to the country with them, and Phoebe could tell that it made Aaron intensely happy. Not that it was hard to tell, what with the way he was often caught smiling absently at his sister.
Phoebe wasn’t certain what had possessed her to try her hand at playing hostess. Maybe it was the delight of the season—Christmas, followed by the New Year, followed by Hannah’s wedding.
This last event had been small, intimate, and utterly charming. Lady Loyd—now Dowager Lady Loyd—had ended up spending the whole ceremony weeping into her handkerchief, which Phoebe had first thought to be a poor sign, except, after the vows were recited, the older lady had embraced Hannah so exuberantly and pressed so many kisses to her cheeks that she left a smudge of rouge on Hannah’s cheekbone.
It had blended in nicely with Hannah’s happy blush. Evidently, the Dowager had been informed of her upcoming grandchild and had welcomed the news with open arms.
This happy ending had clearly poisoned Phoebe’s brain because she had gotten the bright idea to host a ball.
InFebruary.
“We aren’t flirting,” Phoebe said now to Clio, reasoning that it was onlysomewhata lie. They were as minimally flirting as they ever were in any case.
Aaron grumbled, clearly not pleased with this characterization.
“Phoebe was telling me that the next time she marries, it will be to whomever controls the weather,” he reported dryly. “So, if I expire unexpectedly, please know that it was because my wife wants to marry up.”
Clio cast a very tired look between the two of them. Phoebe had seen a lot of that look recently.
“Well,” she said, “I think that would beGod, and any vicar would tell you that he is not eligible for such things. So, Aaron, I think you’re likely safe. Phoebe,” she went on with the air of a weary parent, “I came to tell you that the first guests have arrived.”
This cheered Phoebe, and she was even more cheered when she learned that nobody had been trapped in the sucking pits of mud that had overtaken the roads now that the snow was all gone.
This wife and hostess business was not for the faint of heart; she’d learned in the planning of the winter ball that would truly announce the Duke and Duchess of Redcliff to Society.
Ariadne and David were the first to arrive. Their estate wasn’t close enough to Phoebe and Aaron’s for them to arrive just for the ball, so they would be staying in the guest rooms in the east wing.
“Phoebe, Phoebe!” Ariadne cried, rushing forward to embrace her friend. They hugged warmly while, behind them, their husbands shook hands.
Ariadne pulled back to frown at Aaron.
“I have a bone to pick with you,” she said.
Aaron cringed. “Yes, I know—I was wretched to Phoebe, and I thank you most sincerely for providing her with a safe, warm, kind place to go.”
Ariadne rolled her eyes. “No, notthat,” she said. “Though it’s a nice enough apology. No, I’m mad that you made up, and now, she lives in thecountrywhich is very far away fromme.”
On this last word, she wrapped an arm firmly around Phoebe’s shoulder and yanked her tightly to her side.
“If you think about it differently,” Aaron said with a nervous sort of aspect that told Phoebe that he wasn’t entirely certain the extent to which his cousin was joking, “because I married her, she’s now part of your family?”
His words lilted up at the end, turning them more into a question than a statement.
“I’ll consider it,” Ariadne said with narrowed eyes. “Oh! Look! Clio, good afternoon!”
And then she bustled off to greet—much more cheerfully—her younger cousin. David followed behind her, looking perfectly happy in this role.
“Is she really cross with me?” Aaron asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“No,” Phoebe muttered back.
“Oh!” Aaron said, visibly perking up. “Good.”
Ultimately, Phoebe was extremely proud of her husband, less because he was an effortless host and more because he was clearly trying very hard to attend to all the social mores required of the role. He was, at his core, still more the no-nonsense military man than a smooth social operator, so there were, of course, some moments that went less than perfectly.
