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Gram sat across from Mrs. Boucher at the small card table, grimly silent as they focused on their game of piquet. Dinner had long since been over, but the men remained behind, still consumed with port, cigars, and talk of politics—if Mabel speculated correctly.
The Pemberton sisters sat close together on the sofa, their heads bent in quiet conversation.
“Do the men typically remain behind for so long?” Giulia asked, settling comfortably on the settee beside Mabel.
“No, they—”
“I cannot think why they have not joined us yet,” Miss Sophy said, her voice traveling across the rug and forcing Mabel’s jaw to clench. “They have previously been quite eager to follow us into the drawing room after dinner. I wonder what has changed this evening.”
“Perhaps they are reminiscing about their time spent together on the ocean,” Giulia said, a benevolent smile stretching over her face. “You know how men can linger over port.”
“Indeed,” Mabel agreed.
Miss Sophy sighed, dropping her head in boredom. “I do hope they will come soon.”
Mabel fixed a patient smile on her face, turning to Giulia. “What news of Halstead? Is your uncle well?”
Giulia nodded. “And eager for the ball to be over, I believe. Though the whole of it was his idea. I tried to convince him that the ball last year was sufficient, but he would hear nothing of it.”
Mabel reached across the cushion and grasped her friend’s hand. “He is proud of the union and has likely been looking forward to it since the ball last year. I would guess your uncle has been most eager for the betrothal.”
“You are to hold a ball?” Miss Sophy asked, her eyes sparkling, eyebrows lifted. “I did not know you had enough society in Graton to support it. How very exciting.”
A beat of silence passed before Giulia turned her attention toward the Pemberton sisters, and she could not hide her amusement from Mabel. “How long do you plan to remain here?” Giulia asked.
“We are at the mercy of our brother,” Miss Pemberton said.
Her sister straightened. “But we have every reason to expect that our visit will be of a very long nature.”
Miss Pemberton’s cheeks grew rosy. She shot Miss Sophy a reproachful look before directing her attention to Giulia. “We would be most delighted to attend your ball if it would not be too troublesome. In truth, I quite prefer country balls. I understand why the matrons of London strive for a crush, but they are not in the least bit comfortable. I much prefer lighter company and a relaxed environment.”
“All of Mabel’s guests are welcome at our ball, of course.” Giulia shifted. “Did I misunderstand you, Miss Sophy, or do you mean to imply that you are intending to remove to Devon permanently?”
Mabel’s hand tightened on Giulia’s, but her friend did not spare her a glance, so wholly was she fixed on the Misses Pemberton.
“That will entirely depend upon others,” Miss Sophy said. “As my sister mentioned, we are not at our own leisure.”
Giulia’s gaze flicked to Mrs. Boucher, and Mabel followed it. The Pemberton women didn’t need their brother to lend them consequence. They hired a companion for that.
“Drat these cards,” Gram spat, tossing the last of her cards on the table.
Mrs. Boucher settled back into her chair, a smug smile pinching at her round cheeks. “Shall we go again?”
“Yes, we shall.” Gram’s displeasure sat on her lips, her beady eyes closely watching her companion gather the cards into a pile.
Heavy steps congregated in the corridor outside of the drawing room, and the women who made up the younger set all seemed to pause at the same time, their ears cocked toward the door. The Misses Pemberton both straightened in their seats.
Giulia leaned toward Mabel, lowering her voice. “I expect a full explanation when we have the benefit of privacy.”
“Regarding?” Mabel asked, swallowing. Giulia was far too perceptive for Mabel’s tastes at present. And she hadn’t missed the way Giulia had caught her watching Mac earlier. But did Giulia wish to know more about Mac, or more about the Pemberton sisters?
The door opened to admit the men, and Giulia leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Why the Misses Pemberton would believe they are entitled to a lengthy stay under this roof, of course.”
Charles led the procession of gentlemen and came to a stop at the side of Mabel’s settee, his gloved hand resting on the armrest. “What sort of entertainment shall we have this evening?”
“Is your young cousin awake?” Miss Pemberton asked, her voice obtaining a tinny, cheap quality which it had lacked just a few minutes before. “I should dearly love to visit with the girl if it can be managed.”
