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Fool for Love

Page 70

by Eloisa James

“I didn’t invite him,” Esme protested. “He simply announced he was arriving. I assumed that Darby invited him to the house, but Darby swears he only wrote him a note and never invited him to join us.”

Carola was looking around. “Is Helene downstairs yet?

She’s going to be angry about Rees’s presence, you know. She is the calmest person in the world until she loses her temper.”

Esme had painful memories of the one time Helene had lost her temper with her. “I know,” she said glumly. “It’s the way she looks at one.” The moment when Helene confronted her with the fact that Esme had slept with Gina’s fiancé was one of the worst memories of her life.

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“Well, I’ll try to protect you,” Carola said, patting her hand. That was an absurd statement. Carola was as delightfully small as Esme was large.

“I think I can manage,” Esme said. “I did send a note to Helene’s room and warn her that her husband had arrived.”

“Oh, that’s all right then,” Carola said. “I’m quite sure that she will choose to eat in her room.”

“She can’t,” Esme said. “I need her for the plan.”

Tuppy appeared at Carola’s side. “I must change my gown,” she told Esme.

“You will know exactly what I am talking about, Carola, when it happens,” Esme said to her, with a meaningful frown. Carola had clearly forgotten all about Esme’s plan, since her husband seemed to be kissing her ear in public.

“Of course!” she said quickly. “You may count on me to support you.”

“You mustn’t be late for dinner,” Esme said with a warning look.

“We won’t!” Carola said, with such earnestness that it was clear she and her husband had retired early to their chamber a time or two.

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A Man in Velvet and Lace

Two hours later Lady Holkham and her stepdaughter arrived for dinner. Slope brought them to their hostess, who was seated on a couch.

“Are you feeling quite all right?” Henrietta asked.

“I am simply taking a holiday from standing,” Esme said, smiling at them. “How beautiful your daughter looks tonight, madam!”

Millicent looked back at Henrietta. “I should hope so,” she said rather crossly. “Generally I can count on Imogen holding up a party, but tonight Henrietta changed her dress at least three times!”

Esme grinned at Henrietta. “The work was beneficial. You look magnificent.” Henrietta was wearing a gown of pale green crape, embroidered around the neck. Henrietta sat down next to Esme as Millicent went to greet Mrs. Barret-Ducrorq.

“I don’t think this was the right gown to wear. Darby is so . . .” Henrietta’s voice trailed off.

“One can’t possibly compete with Darby,” Esme said matter-194 Eloisa James

of-factly. “Just to warn you, he’s wearing brown velvet tonight. Ladies have fainted when he’s worn that particular costume.”

“This is impossible.” Henrietta looked at Esme miserably.

“I can’t think why I ever thought it possible. He’s a peacock, and I’m nothing more than a crow!”

“A crow?” Esme said, smiling. “I don’t think so. Let’s see.” She looked Henrietta over from head to foot. “Wait, I have to remember all those turgid letters that have been sent to me. Your hair is the color of moonbeams—no, sunbeams, because it has honey-colored strands running around it. Your eyes are the color of pansies; your lips are the color of rubies; your cheeks are peaches and cream—need I go on? I’m running out of colors.”

Henrietta rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m lame, Esme, lame. I can’t have children. And I’m not accustomed to looking elegant, nor do I really wish to achieve such a thing. I saw Darby walking down High Street yesterday. The man is unlike anyone I have ever known.”

“Darby is unlike anyone in London either,” Esme said, waving her fan gently before her face. “Don’t fool yourself, Henrietta. London is not full of men wearing lace and velvet. Look at Rees, for example.” She nodded toward the edge of the room, where a man, whose neck cloth appeared to have been thrown around his neck and knotted in approximately two seconds, was tossing back a glass of something. Henrietta looked a little blank, so Esme added, “Rees Holland, Earl Godwin, husband of my friend Helene. I think you met her, didn’t you?”