Rosalind remembered Beatrice talking of how wonderfully elegant everybody was and how it was not at all like their own little neighborhood parties. Beatrice had taken comfort that even if she did not quite measure up, her dress certainly did.
She glanced down at her own dress. Mrs. Randower had spent months composing gowns that would complement Rosalind’s dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Mrs. Randower had named the shade of her hair “chocolate” and said that complementary coloring and cut were everything. She would not involve herself with a lady who went in for bits and bobs stuck on everywhere, not for all the pounds and pence in the world. A rose was not more of a rose by dressing itself up in ribbons and bows.
Rosalind must think Mrs. Randower right about it. There was something about the simple dark blue silk with embroidered rosettes of the same color round the neckline that made her feel very elegant.
It was well she did feel elegant. They’d entered the ballroom and there was nothing but elegance in it.
“Earl, Darden,” a fine-looking lady said.
“My dear Lady Jersey,” the earl said with an elegant bow. “May I present my daughter, Lady Rosalind. And of course, you are already acquainted with Miss Mayton.”
Rosalind curtsied very deeply, as Beatrice had told her the lady would expect it.
She rose and Lady Jersey tipped her chin. “She is positively lovely, Earl. It seems you are in possession of a whole line of comely daughters.”
Rosalind blushed and was also very relieved. Van Doren had vexed the lady last season and she had not known what sort of reception they would get on account of it.
“Mrs. Mayton,” Lady Jersey said, noticing she wore black bombazine, “you are still in mourning?”
“It isMiss, I am afraid to say,” Miss Mayton said, whether she’d been afraid to or not. “I fear I shall be in mourning all my life after the tragedies I’ve suffered.”
Lady Jersey narrowed her eyes just the littlest bit. “And yet you attend entertainments. How original.”
Miss Mayton nodded sadly. “I must carry on for Rosalind’s sake. And then Viola, Cordelia, and Juliet, too. After all my girls are settled comfortably, I will retire to my sad reflections.”
“I see,” Lady Jersey said. Though, Rosalind was fairly certain that she did not see.
It was hardly surprising. Her aunt’s situation was unusual. There cannot have been many ladies who were in mourning for a husband though they’d never married, and who’d also declared they would bravely carry on attending entertainments for the sake of the charges they had raised.
Miss Mayton herself had not realized that she ought to be dressed in black until she’d donned the garb for a masque last season. Once she had on her widow’s weeds, she said she knew it was right and must keep them on.
Lady Jersey nodded her understanding of the matter, though not very convincingly. “Darden, Earl, any who approach Lady Rosalind this evening have been sanctioned by me. You know how we do it for a first outing.”
The earl and Darden bowed and Lady Jersey moved off.
“Lady Jersey is struck by my particular plight, as so many people are,” Miss Mayton said.
Rosalind’s father and Darden nodded and attempted to appear grave, though she could not help but note the smile playing at the edges of Darden’s lips. Her brother was exceedingly fond of their aunt, though often amused by her too.
An elderly gentleman approached the earl. “Westmont! How long has it been? And this is your son?”
The gentleman appeared to be an old friend of the earl and there was much exclamation between them.
While her father became reacquainted with the fellow and Darden was acclaimed as a very fine-looking young man, Rosalind gazed round the ballroom, wondering who Lady Jersey would give leave to approach her.
Just now, she was certain she was being discussed. Lady Jersey spoke to a young gentleman who nodded and looked her way. It was nothergentleman, but she found him interesting. His hair was a deep copper color and Viola was very taken by shades of red hair. Nobody understood why it was so, not even Viola herself.
Rosalind suspected it had to do with an early crush. There had been a red-haired tinker’s boy who had passed through their neighborhood when she was very young. He had winked at her and she’d talked about it for ages.
Well, at least there was one red-haired fellow in theton. Rosalind had been worried that there would not be many.
The copper-haired gentleman looked her way.
Rosalind averted her eyes, not liking to be caught out in such a manner. She looked to her right, and then her breath caught in her throat.
Hewas here. It was him.
She’d been at once certain he would be and despairing that he would not be.
