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“That’s what Mrs. Parks said. She was of the opinion that since we’re in the country, we needn’t stand so on ceremony as we would in Town. She’s right. But it is still a bit of a puzzle, isn’t it?”
“Will you be all right, Vick? I know he makes you uncomfortable. I had wanted these two weeks to be enjoyable and relaxing for you and that at the end you would be ready to wed.”
Vicky laughed. “That might have been an overly ambitious goal with or without Lord Bertram, but you needn’t trouble yourself about me. You have invited sufficiently delightful guests to offset any less-than-ideal ones.”
Georgia still looked concerned, but then they were interrupted by a commotion by the door. Crossley strode into the room with Mr. Ashford Northcott, Lord Bertram, and Lord Clifton close behind him.
“Good afternoon, we’ve grown in number,” he announced with a smile, as his eyes searched for his wife.
Vicky watched as her friend pasted on a smile and stepped forward to greet her guests. One would never know from watching her that she hadn’t been born into a nobleman’s household but instead only had two years’ experience. She took to it like a natural. Vicky wondered if she would be nearly as gracious a hostess if she ever ended up wedded. She turned away from watching the scene, thinking to keep herself occupied somehow. Before she stepped too far away, though, she was startled by a deep voice just behind her.
“I wish you a good afternoon, Lady Vigilia.”
She didn’t have to turn to know who it was. The goose flesh that rose on her neck let her know quite clearly that Mr. Ashford Northcott had addressed her. She had to fight the urge to reach up and rub the reaction away, as that would surely draw even more attention than necessary to her reaction.
“Mr. Northcott,” she replied with a nod. “Have you just arrived?”
“Not too long ago,” he answered, while searching her face to the point of making her long to squirm. “Crossley rode with me for a few minutes after I arrived, so I haven’t actually been in the house for too awfully long.”
Vicky nodded. “The long drive in the carriage made you restless, did it?”
“Very much so.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t ride here,” she commented. “Although, that might have been a bit far for even someone as adventurous as you.”
Northcott nodded. “I think I would have enjoyed it far more, to be sure. But yes, perhaps a bit far.”
Vicky nodded. “Crossley rode part of the way when we were coming down from Town. Of course, he doesn’t like to allow George out of his sight, so perhaps, most gentlemen would have stayed astride longer.”
Northcott smiled over her words, making the muscles of Vicky’s midsection clench over just how very handsome the man was. She despaired of her reactions toward this particular man.
Looking around the room, Northcott commented quietly, “An interesting mix of guests have assembled.”
Vicky nodded. “Not everyone has yet arrived, but I think we shall be well entertained with the company.”
“Did you have a hand in the invitations?”
Vicky almost frowned as his glance shifted significantly toward Lord Bertram. She couldn’t decide how she felt knowing that he seemed to share her disquiet about the man’s presence.
“I did have some input,” was all she bothered to say. It was none of Northcott’s business whether or not the viscount had been invited. That was between Lord Crossley and his guests, if any of them had a problem with the viscount’s presence. Really, it was just Lord and Lady Crossley’s business as hosts. Guests didn’t have any say in who their fellow guests might be. But no matter how she felt on the subject, she wasn’t about to discuss it with the gentleman.
