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“Georgia, you are holding up marvellously.”
The bride grinned at her. “I feel wrung out like a dishrag, so you’re either being suspiciously kind or decidedly untruthful. But I appreciate the gesture, nonetheless.”
Rosabel had to laugh, although she kept it light and short. She swiftly but thoroughly examined the younger woman. Crossley had spared no expense. Georgia was finally wearing a gown that was expressly designed just for her. The fit and colour suited her perfectly. And it still looked as though it were fresh from the laundress.
“I’m actually being neither, surprisingly. It’s probably the glow of delight that’s draped over you, but you really do look as though you’ve just left your maid’s clutches. There doesn’t seem to be a hair out of place, your gown has withstood the day, and your cheeks are rosy.”
Georgia blinked over her words, her grin widening. “Thank you.” She looked around at the gathered crowds and her smile faded slightly. “Your mother has been doing her best to teach me everything I never wanted to know about being a countess, but I’m fairly certain I’ll be returning for further lessons after we return.”
“You know you’ll always be welcome.”
Georgia’s gaze turned shrewd. “That’s very gracious of you to say, Lady Rosabel, thank you.”
“I swear to you, I was never after Crossley.”
“I didn’t actually think you were. I was referring to you being willing to share your mother. With so many of you girls, it’s kind of you to not resent the time she has been spending with me lately.”
“Don’t give that the slightest mind, Georgia. I promise you, having her distracted away from my unwedded state has been blissful. You’ve done us a favor, in fact. I wish you weren’t leaving Town, to be perfectly honest. I’m dreading the countess’ attention returning to her disappointment in me.”
Georgia grinned and reached over to squeeze Rosabel’s hand. Having had so many sisters tagging along after her all her life, Bel hadn’t put much effort into friendships with other girls, even when she made her debut. She was beginning to think this might have been a mistake. There was a strange sensation emanating from what she suspected was her heart. It was quite nice. She returned Georgia’s small gesture.
“We shall call upon you as soon as you announce you are welcoming visitors,” she assured the younger woman.
“Oh, I do hope you won’t be standing upon ceremony. I would love it if you drop in immediately upon our return.”
Rosabel laughed lightly. “Crossley might feel differently on the subject.”
Georgia shrugged, looking over her shoulder toward where her husband was watching her closely. Turning back toward Bel, Georgia’s grin was wide and impish.
“The earl has repeatedly assured me that his home is now my home and I am to be its mistress. Therefore, I am reasonably certain that means I may entertain whenever I see fit. And I see fit to entertain any of the Sherton sisters whenever they might feel like visiting me.” She paused again before adding, “You can be sure Vicky will be by before I even descend from the carriage.”
Rosabel smiled, acknowledging the truthfulness of the other woman’s words. “Very well. I will wish youbon voyage. Do enjoy yourself, Georgia. We all wish you every happiness.” To her annoyance, she felt emotion welling in her throat. She was actually sincere. She wished the other girl very well. It was a unique sensation.
Much more demonstrative, Georgia threw her arms around Rosabel. Bel tried not to stiffen but was relieved when the moment was short-lived. Georgia’s grin, when she pulled back, was even more mischievous.
“You’ve been keeping secrets, Bel,” she said with a twinkle in her eye before she turned without further words.
Rosabel couldn’t argue with her. She didn’t watch the happy couple take their leave. It would be dreadful to see her sister making a cake of herself. She was actually a little jealous of the close bond between her younger sister, Vicky, and her dearest friend. Bel had never thought she wanted for friends. But she realized, watching them, that what she had were connections, acquaintances, perhaps even rivals. Of course, she had her sisters and had always thought that was enough. Back home, she hadn’t been thrown into the company of Vicky and her friend as much as she had while here in London. Witnessing their friendship had demonstrated that even her relationships with her sisters were not the same at all. She supposed she ought to work on that. Vicky, especially, would be feeling the loss of her friend now that Georgia had gotten married and would be travelling for some time. One could argue that it was Bel’s responsibility as the oldest to be there for her sister. If only the thought didn’t sound so very tedious.
In the spirit of being friendly and helpful, Rosabel pinned a pleasant smile to her face and turned to survey the crowd once more. She ought to practice her wiles as hostess. Surely someday, should she find her love match, she would have to host his entertainments. She understood from her mother there were responsibilities associated with that. She had been trained from the cradle in most of them. Bel knew how to plan a menu, decorate, entertain, and all those types of things. But she realized she ought to practice ensuring people were actually having a good time.
She spotted the small collection of awkward debutantes standing on the side of the room. There were three of them. They didn’t appear to be particularly friends with one another, but to Bel’s suddenly perceptive eye, she would surmise they had decided there was safety in numbers and they were sticking together so as to not face the event alone.
Rosabel wasn’t certain what she was going to do once she got there, but she set across the room with the aim of doing something for the poor awkward things. The fact that they were on the other side of the room from Lord Prescott was also in their favour. Bel couldn’t believe anyone had invited him. She knew her family wasn’t friends with him, and she had never noticed Crossley to be either. She pushed the unwelcome thoughts from her mind.
To her surprise, Rosabel could feel a watchful gaze following her. She supposed she was often under scrutiny, but she rarely noticed it. This time, it felt like a weight on her shoulders. Or maybe more like heat burning into the space between her shoulder blades, on the back of her neck. Rosabel hoped it wasn’t Prescott. It felt different from his oily scrutiny, but she was too keyed up to be certain of anything. She tried to be nonchalant as she glanced around. Her stride almost faltered when her gaze once more collided with that of the Duke of Wexford.
I thought Wexford left, was her first nonsensical thought before she tried to ignore his attention. By then she had arrived in front of the three girls, and it occurred to her that she ought to have strolled less purposefully toward them. There was nought that could be done now; she was there.
“Good afternoon, I’m Lady Rosabel. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, but seeing as none of us are gentlemen, I figured there was no need to await an introduction.”
The three debutantes exchanged puzzled glances amongst themselves as they dipped into curtsys. Bel wondered for a moment if any of them would respond and why they appeared so puzzled. She stifled her sigh as she realized that she probably wasn’t known for speaking to others. She acknowledged her own ridiculousness as she waited to see if any of them would say anything or if she would have to try some other conversational gambit.
“We’ve actually met before,” the one with the dull blonde hair and unfortunate violet-coloured gown finally stammered. “I’m Lord Beaverbrook’s niece, Miss Priscilla Perkins.”
“I do apologize,” Rosabel replied, keeping her consternation to herself. “There are so very many people to meet during the Season,” she added with a smile before turning to the others. “Have I so rudely forgotten being introduced to you as well?”
The other girls giggled and blushed. “Not at all, my lady, you’re never rude. And no, we haven’t been introduced, but of course, we know who you are.”
