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“I...did not know.” It was easier to lie. “I was supposed to leave at dawn with my employer, Lady Indigo,” she added proudly. “Instead, we leave at first light tomorrow. Please send my regards to Libby. I doubt I’ll see her.”

Old Mr Wells’s eyes narrowed. “So, you won’t be at the ball tonight? No fond reunion between you and my son? Does he even know you’re here? Perhaps not, if you’ve insisted on wearing that ghastly rag on your head all this time.”

He drew in a labored breath, and his frown deepened as he went on, “Oh no, his eye has been taken, I’ve learned to my horror, by Miss Reeves. Nothing against the gel, personally. After all, Sebastian is old enough to make up his own mind, now. He can marry whomever he chooses.” He coughed. “Except where it causes me outright embarrassment, and I can tell you, my gel, that I am highly embarrassed to have to look my old friend Thomas Reeves in the eye when I know he’s wanted his gel to marry Yarrowby all these years.” He stamped his cane on the floor for emphasis. “I know the pain of recalcitrant children, and I’ll not have my son the cause of more trouble.”

“So…they are going to get married?” Despite every instinct telling her it was not her place, Venetia had to ask.

Mr Wells let out a harrumph. “Reeves is apoplectic! I saw him just now after he’d come out of discussion with Ladies Quamby and Fenton, who have been sticking their noses into business that doesn’t concern them, if you ask me.”

Venetia didn’t know what to say, so she just lowered her eyes with a subservient, “Indeed, sir,” while her insides fluttered nervously, and she tried to conceal the acute physical pain that gripped her.

“I have to take a stand if my club is to remain the harmonious haven it used to be.” His mouth worked as if he were grinding his gums, before he added, “Four years changes us greatly. It has changed me. I’ve grown soft.”

Venetia was hardly going to say she saw no signs of it until he went on, “I regret what I said to you when I thought you were going to run off with my boy. I saw how unhappy he was trying to be a good husband to Dorothea and it nearly broke my heart. But you. You’re here now. Take off that thing.” He pointed to her cap.

Venetia blinked.

“Why, sir…”

“I want to see if you’ve changed so greatly in four years that my son would be repulsed.”

“I don’t think I need to…”

“Lady Fenton!”

Venetia jumped as the old man barked at their hostess who happened to be passing by, together with her sister. They turned and took a few steps toward their guest, their faces bright and curious.

“Please arrange some suitable clothing for this young lady so she can attend tonight’s Christmas Ball. Her father was my bailiff, you know. Excellent man. I’d like to do something for his daughter.”

Lady Quamby smiled at Venetia. “I’m certain that will present no problems, Mr Reeves. I’ll send my maid to her bedchamber with something suitable,” she added before moving on.

The old man turned to direct a look at Venetia, but she was not about to humor him with a smile.

If Mr Reeves believed he’d appeased Venetia, he was wrong. “I’m not going to even try and win your son back from Miss Reeves,” she said softly.

“Eh? He’s changed that much for you?” The old man looked startled.

Venetia sent him a level look. “You made your feelings very clear to me four years ago, sir. And I did your bidding, then.” Proudly she pushed back her shoulders as she prepared to leave. “But I’m not going to do your bidding now.”

Chapter 13

Sebastian saw the housemaid flinch at the sound of his Hessians ringing on the flagstoned hallway as he entered Quamby House after a furious gallop.

It had not eased the terrible ache in his heart.

"Mr Wells?"

Reluctantly, he stopped and turned. It was Lady Fenton, smiling warmly at him. He could see why Fenton had been captivated. She was a beauty in the same kind of dark, mysterious way that Venetia so appealed to him. Like Venetia, she had eyes that hinted at an intelligence that went so much deeper than her beauty.

He bowed.

"Your sister has arrived. And so has your father.” She hesitated. “And so has Miss Reeves’s father.”

She looked at him as if he might have something to say to this, so he shrugged and said, “I shall be very happy to see my father.” And it was true. Though it had taken time, they had mended their differences in the years following their falling-out over his father’s opposition to Venetia. “My sister will not.”

“And Miss Reeves’s father?”

Thinking it odd that she seemed to insinuate he’d have an opinion regarding old Mr Reeves’s presence, he shrugged again. “My father will be pleased enough to see old Mr Reeves, I daresay, since they are friends.”

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