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Lady Margaret launched an impressive siege on the master of ceremonies. She insisted on visiting Mr. Singh every afternoon, Caroline by her side, as she waxed eloquent about all the improvements she saw in the Reeves since her arrival. Her conversation heavily featured the many illustrious lords and ladies she had met over her decades of socializing in London. Caroline was impressed by her dedication to link the Reeve family to greatness, even though she wasn’t sure she believed half the tales.
At first, Mr. Singh remained firm in his decision. After a week of persistent petitioning, however, he relented.
“I should be happy to welcome the family tooneassembly,” he said. He sighed. “If I may say so, I would be hard-pressed to deny entry to the talk of Inverley at this point. Everyone has been asking after the Reeves.”
Caroline tried not to feel intimidated now that the wheels were in motion. There was no turning back now. After they returned home after receiving the much-coveted approval, she asked Lady Margaret, “Do we have a chance? The whole town knows we are nothing more than the Reeve family of Belvoir Lane.”
Lady Margaret patted her hand. “People will buy anything you wish to sell them, my dear. Especially if it entertains them. And a nobody becoming a somebody isalwayshigh entertainment. You have nothing to worry about.”
The evening of the assembly was welcomed with great reverence in the Reeve household. Betsy insisted on speaking in nothing but whispers all day, for fear of straining her voice before she had a chance to wear it out by talking and laughing all night. Susan selected and discarded no fewer than five outfits. Even Jacob was more animated than his customary air of ennui allowed, as he practiced the quadrille with Betsy up and down the hallway.
Caroline stared at herself at the mirror as her new maid Lucille trussed her hair into tight ringlets wound around tiny white flowers and seed pearls.
“It’s all the rage, miss,” Lucille assured her, when Caroline mentioned that it wasn’t the most comfortable hairstyle she had ever worn. “You can’t think of the pain and the trouble. You must focus on how very grand you look!”
Caroline supposed she did look grand. She hadn’t purchased the amount of clothing that either Betsy or Susan had, but her evening dress was new and made from the most beautiful fabric she had ever worn. Lucille draped an amethyst necklace around her neck, the stones small and dangling from fine loops of silver chain.
Unlike the rest of her ensemble, this wasn’t new.
The necklace had been her mother’s.
She was almost breathless as Lucille fastened the clasp, reluctant to have someone else touch the precious heirloom. It was almost certainly worthless in terms of the money it would fetch, but it had value beyond diamonds to her.
Oh, that her mother and father could see them now. Their daughters and their son dressed in finery, with coffers filled beyond their wildest imagination. How her father would have laughed! How her mother would have been proud.
Caroline swallowed. For them, she would make sure the evening was a success. She had sworn to see her siblings settled, and she would reach as high as she dared in society in their honor. She needed to be in control tonight, no matter what.
For all her years in Inverley, she had never set foot in the assembly rooms, and she was delighted to see how fine it looked inside. It was spacious, with swaths of white curtains at the open windows, and crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, and an inlaid wooden floor that was so shiny that it was a wonder that no one ever slipped while dancing.
Caroline’s plans to shepherd her siblings about the room and gain introductions to the best that Inverley had to offer were wrested from her in an instant.
Lady Margaret propelled Betsy and Susan with remarkable speed toward a group of militiamen, claiming that they ought not waste a minute when officers could be dancing attendance on them instead of on other ladies.
Jacob and Mr. Taylor ambled toward a group of men who seemed ready to abscond to the cardroom.
Caroline felt the sting of betrayal. She brushed her thumb over the amethyst hanging at her throat. Maybe her family didn’t need her to take care of them anymore. Maybe they would have been fine all along without her trying to watch over them so closely. Maybe she had overestimated her importance.
For an instant, she contemplated running for the door.
Then she saw Arabella.
Adorable, reliable, sweet Arabella.
She had her nose in a cup of wine and was talking to Grace and Maeve. Her dress was the same one that Caroline had seen her wear on countless occasions over the years, but it was no less charming for being well-worn. It hugged her bosom and clung to her hips in a way that always made her forget how to breathe for an instant.
Caroline loved how Arabella spoke with her whole body, using every inch of herself to paint a picture with word and gesture as precisely as she applied her brush to paper. Watching Arabella made her feel calmer, and she paused to look her fill before making her way over to her.
She must have hesitated a fraction too long, however, because suddenly everywhere she turned she saw a male chest. A half dozen men swarmed near her.
“May I fetch you a glass of orgeat, Miss Reeve?”
“You look ever so beautiful tonight—may I tell you that your complexion is a credit to the fine sea air?”
“Are you free to dance? Miss Reeve, has any man been lucky enough to claim your hand for the first set?”
It was impossible to tell who said what, as they jostled for position around her.
Caroline frowned. “My two sisters, Betsy and Susan, are here at the assembly rooms as well,” she said. “I am merely accompanying them tonight. I would love to have the pleasure of introducing them to you.” She strained her neck to try to peer around the wall of shoulders, searching the crowd for her sisters.
