“Gracious, no. They think they did a good deed, and Seger thanked Mr. Hibbert, who is probably bragging about it at the local pub as we speak.”
Quintina nodded. “Well, let us go.”
Gillian gathered up her gloves and stood.
They crossed the room toward the door, but Quintina paused before opening it. She turned around to face Gillian. “Remember, look directly into his eyes when you speak to him, darling. You must make him see you in a new light. Meanwhile, I will handle Clara. I know exactly what to do. She won’t last long.”
Quintina glanced down at Gillian’s low neckline, then lifted her gaze and smiled. “I believe you have larger breasts than she does.”
“Auntie!”
“It’s true, my dear. That gown is perfect. Now come along.”
That evening after dinner, Seger retired to his study to attend to some business matters, while Clara played the piano for Quintina and Gillian in the drawing room. Gillian sat under a lamp, embroidering a small pillow. Quintina read a book.
When Clara finished her piece, Gillian set down her needlework and applauded. “You play beautifully, Clara. It is such a joy to have you here.”
“It’s a joy to be here,” she replied. “You’ve both made me feel very welcome.”
“I’m so glad. We are going to be wonderful friends, I know it. We must stay up late and enjoy each other’s company like this every night. We’ll be closer than sisters.”
Clara stood and moved to sit on the sofa beside Gillian. “But you’re forgetting the parties. The Season is far from over. There were a number of invitations today.”
Gillian sighed and looked down at her stitching. “Yes, I suppose we must go out. I certainly must, if I am ever to find a husband.”
“You will find one in no time, Gillian. You look radiant tonight. Wear a dress of that color to a ball and you’ll be danced off your feet.”
Gillian continued to look down at her embroidery. “I don’t think I should like that—to be danced off my feet. Some might call me dull, but I prefer to stay at home in the evenings. I’ve always preferred it. Everything that makes me happy is in this house.”
Clara inclined her head questioningly. “Have you been living here long? I thought you were just visiting, that you normally live with your uncle.”
On the far side of the room, Quintina looked up from her book and listened.
“Yes,” Gillian replied, “and Auntie has been very kind, always letting me stay as long as I like. My uncle doesn’t mind. He knows that even when my parents were alive, this was like a second home to me. I was close to Seger, you see.” Gillian lifted her needle high over her head. “We’ve always been friends,” she continued. “I was only a baby when Seger’s father married Auntie. Seger was eleven, and he used to play with me and teach me things. We’ve been through a lot together. When my mother died, he was such a comfort to me, and before that, when he was suffering with a broken heart over Daphne....” Gillian paused and glanced up from her embroidery. “Forgive me. Perhaps you don’t know about Daphne. I have no manners sometimes. I can be so clumsy.”
Gillian resumed her needlework.
“Please, do not concern yourself,” Clara said. “I know all about Daphne. Seger told me everything. It’s a very sad story, isn’t it?”
Clara wasn’t sure why she felt such a strong compulsion to inform Gillian that she knew about Seger’s first engagement, and why she felt suddenly competitive. It made no sense at all. Gillian was Seger’s cousin, not Lady Cleveland.
But Gillian had known Seger her entire life. She knew so much more about him than Clara did.
You’ll catch up, Clara told herself. Soon, you’ll know him better than anyone.
“You are the most beautiful creature here,” Seger said as he escorted Clara onto the terrace at Weldon House.
The breeze was warm on Clara’s cheeks, the champagne sweet on her lips. Seger had not stopped looking at her all evening, and she felt beautiful in her red silk, form-flattering Worth gown, with embroidered pearls on the bodice, and a flowing, flounced train. At her neck she wore a large diamond pendant that flashed and sparkled. Seger’s gaze had dropped many times to her cleavage, though she doubted he was admiring the diamond.
Clara gazed up at him flirtatiously over the rim of her champagne glass as she sipped. “You are a shameless flatterer.”
She couldn’t wait to go home and be alone with him.
He gave her a look that offered promises for later. “Shameless is my middle name. And I can flatter you all night long, if you wish it.”
Just then, a woman approached Seger from behind and spoke close in his ear. “You must flatter me, too. I haven’t heard your delicious talk in a dog’s age. I’m sure your lady-friend won’t mind sharing.”
Clara drew back in surprise. “Sharing?”
