‘She was quite the success, by all accounts,’ continued Emily. ‘I hear Beauvarlet was very taken with her. They danced twice apparently.’
‘Goodness, that is almost as good as a request to court her,’ said Christopher.
Tobias did not put down his paper and glower at his youngest brother, who was doing an excellent impression of a gossiping grand dame. They were trying to provoke a reaction from him, but they would not. Besides, it had to be moonshine, because Emily and Kate had arrived home from the ball not that long after he had and therefore would not know with whom she had danced other than himself.
‘Indeed,’ said Freddie, unable, it appeared, to resist joining in. ‘Beauvarlet is quite the catch now that he has inherited the title. Handsome, rich and from a distinguished family, he will no doubt be fought over when the Season starts unless Mrs Wilmott catches his attention first. What a coup that would be.’
Tobias did not care if Beauvarlet was a fine specimen of a man. He could marry Mrs Wilmott and they could have a whole gaggle of wilful children who went about trying to drown members of the peerage. All Tobias cared about was this newspaper article. He read the first line for the hundredth time.
‘I wish I had been there,’ said Sophia, the newest member of their family, who had married Christopher only two months ago and, he suspected, was still a little in awe of Tobias. ‘I should have liked to have met her.’
Or perhaps not, if she was in on whatever this was as well.
‘Oh, you shall,’ said Emily. ‘Kate and I invited her to call on us at noon. I have already instructed Sutton to turn away all other callers. I have a feeling that she is going to be the next Season’s diamond and very much in demand. I thought we could steal a march on everyone else in getting to know her first.’
As if Emily cared about that sort of thing. Since she was highest-ranked female in their family, it was her responsibility to organise events on their behalf. Not that Tobias had ever requested it of her, but he understood that she had taken on this role because of the way she had been raised and he would not stop it, so long as she was happy. Tobias was sure she would not fail in her duty, even if she would much rather decamp to the library with Freddie, Arabella and Charlotte and never leave it.
‘I hope we all get to meet her,’ said Freddie. ‘She sounds delightful.’
Tobias stood, clutching the newspaper in one hand. He would read the article in his office, where he would get some peace and quiet.
Chapter Four
Grace had heard it whispered that American taste wasn’t up to English standards. During yesterday evening’s ball, she had thought this comment was meant as an insult to her fellow countrymen. Standing in the Dashworths’ Blue Lounge she questioned her understanding. The Dashworths were supposed to be the pinnacle of English high society, a ducal family wealthy beyond belief. Yet this room was garish and, quite frankly, an abomination on the eyes.
There’d been plenty of time for her to imagine the upcoming conversation. Over two years had passed since she had realised there would have to be a day when she met these people and tried to explain everything. What she had not factored in in any of her imaginings was being completely on her own after her arrival in their home. The Dashworths’ butler had shown her to the room, apologising that Lady Blackmore and Lady Edward were delayed and would join her shortly. There were so many chairs and settees in this long sitting room that she had no idea where she was expected to sit and wait. She hoped she was only meeting with the two women today and not the disapproving duke. No doubt he would find fault with her behaviour whichever seat she chose. So now she was overthinking it, standing staring at the sea of blue, feeling like driftwood left on the beach after the end of a storm. This discussion was going to be difficult; someonemight cry and she had the horrible feeling that person would be her. She’d been longing to get it out of the way, promising herself that she and Sarah would stop at a teashop on the way home and buy something indulgent to eat. Looking forward to something beyond an unpleasant anticipated event was how she’d managed to survive the last few years. This unexpected aloneness, with Sarah taken off to the servants’ quarters, wasn’t helping her peace of mind. By the time Lady Blackmore entered, carrying a baby on her hip, a fine tremor was running through Grace’s body and she tucked her hands into her skirts so that the countess would not notice.
‘I am sorry to keep you waiting,’ said Lady Blackmore, some of her hair coming loose from its pins. The slight unravelling made her look far less calm and sophisticated than she had during the ball the night before, causing Grace to warm to her; she knew a thing or two about being dishevelled. ‘Arabella is fretful and every time I put her down she cries. I hope you do not mind if she joins us.’
‘Goodness me, not at all.’ As Grace stepped towards Lady Blackmore and the little baby girl, some of the tension rolling through her eased. It boded well that the countess was the sort of parent who would not leave her distressed child when a caller came. The same could not have been said for Grace’s mother, who did not have a maternal bone in her body. Both of Grace’s parents had viewed their two daughters as assets to be used to further their own interests and not as individuals with thoughts and feelings.
Arabella’s whole body was shuddering, the way babies did when big emotions had swept through them. Tears still stained red blotchy cheeks.
‘She is beautiful,’ said Grace.
The baby took that moment to reach out and grasp one of Grace’s bonnet’s ribbons in her chubby fingers, pulling it into her smacking lips before anyone could stop her.
‘Oh no,’ cried Lady Blackmore as the material disappeared into her daughter’s mouth.
‘Please do not worry. I can see Arabella is a lady with exceptional taste. This bonnet is from Madame Madeleine herself.’
‘It will be ruined. I really am very sorry.’
‘If it makes her happy, then I will happily bear the sacrifice.’ Standing this close to Lady Blackmore, however, was a little disconcerting. Grace tugged at the remaining ribbon and began undoing the bow.
‘There is no need to take your bonnet off. Truly, we can find something else for her to chew on.’
Grace doubted the babe would be happy with anything other than the white ribbon clutched tightly in her tiny hand. As much as Grace loved babies, she wasn’t entirely keen to have her bonnet back covered in Arabella’s saliva. ‘It is fine. I am not a great fan of wearing a hat, or anything in my hair if I am honest. Wearing them always gives me a headache; a disaster really, given that the fashion is for we ladies to wear our hair up, bound and covered, unless we are in the privacy of our own home.’
Lady Blackmore flashed her a grateful smile. ‘I quite agree. Fashion is not designed for comfort. I despise tightly tied stays, but one cannot do without them unfortunately.’
‘They are dreadful things that should be burned,’ said Grace, wondering if this conversation was entirely appropriate to be having with a countess, but the lady opposite her did not seem offended.
Indeed, her eyes twinkled with merriment. ‘How we suffer for our looks.’
Grace smiled back, a dull ache beneath her breastbone, because Sebastian should have lived to meet his sister-in-law. He would have liked her and would have been pleased Freddie had found someone so amiable in a wife.
‘Well, if you are sure you do not mind sacrificing that ribbon, shall we take a seat?’ Lady Blackmore gestured to some chairs surrounding a low wooden table. ‘I promise you that I shall return your bonnet as good as new. In the meantime, you must borrow one of mine to journey home in.’
