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“And don’t I know it.”
They shared a brief smile before Lockhart gestured to the doors. “Forget about these debutantes for now. The others are still waiting. You know the trouble Thurston might get into if left to his own devices for too long, and Kirkwood will be too busy taking his quizzing glass to the damn plants to rein him in.”
“Alright,” Nathan said with a laugh, thoughts of the enigmatic Miss Hughs set aside for the time being as the prospect of his friends making an utter catastrophe out of the garden loomed. “Lead the way.”
* * *
“Oh, yes, My Lord. I would love to dance the next set with you.”
Arabella Hughs smiled tightly as her sister accepted yet another invitation for the evening. “Caroline,” she said gently. “I believe you’ve already reserved that set for Lord Blemming.”
Caroline turned around, her icy blonde curls glinting in the candlelight and deep brown eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, dear. You are right, Bella.” She glanced back to the gentleman before them, the young heir to an earldom. “I apologize, My Lord.”
“No need. It is a busy evening and perfectly easy to lose track of one’s dance card.” The young man looked awestruck as Caroline rewarded him with one of her winning smiles.
“My sister loves to dance, however.”
Lord Eversham’s pause was all Arabella needed to know regarding his opinion on the matter. “That is quite alright,” she blurted. “I’m rather tired from the evening’s exertions.”
“But you’ve been standing here all night,” Caroline protested.
“I’m tired,” Arabella repeated, doing her best to hide any bite from her words. She’d not subject herself to a dance of pity, for Lord Eversham seemed quite clear in his reluctance. Caroline was the prize, not her. Not that she was in the mood for any kind of dancing, anyway.
“Quite right,” Lord Eversham said, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ve no wish to impose. Good evening, Miss Hughs.” His eyes strayed back to her sister and warmed anew. “Miss Caroline.”
Caroline looked about ready to flutter her eyelashes as she watched Lord Eversham walk away. “Oh, drat. He would have been a good dance partner. So very handsome.”
“You said that about Lord Edmund ten minutes ago.”
“Yes, Lord Eversham,” she replied with a sigh.
“Lord Edmund.” Arabella tried to hide her smile of amusement.
Caroline waved her hand. “Eversham, Edmund, same difference. Both are wonderful specimens and so charming to boot. In fact, I’d say this Season has been rife with eligible gentlemen. Certainly better than the last with the likes of the mediocre Lord Lindsay.”
Arabella stiffened at the name, that familiar, harsh blade of melancholy stabbing her chest. “Mediocre indeed,” she mumbled.
But, seeming not to notice her sister’s distress, Caroline continued. “So many eligible gentlemen, I am shocked you aren’t as excited as I am about the possibilities.”
Arabella herself had been just that one year ago. Though her come out year had been nothing spectacular, she’d received a few calls and one or two potential suitors. Last year, after having mastered her dancing and made improvements on her conversational skills, she’d been brimming with optimism. Except, last year had also been Caroline’s debut, Arabella had quickly realized she held no chance next to a sister who’d been declared an incomparable from the moment she was introduced at court. With her delicate features, sweet disposition, and their grandfather’s striking blonde hair, Caroline had taken the Ton by storm, with Arabella left to the wayside. And then rumors of her jealously surfaced, exaggerated tales of her prickly nature circulated, and she was well and truly doomed. One shining beacon of hope had surfaced, one that she now wished nothing more than to forget about. This season proved to be no better, though, for once, she was happy to fade in the background to nurse her broken heart in peace.
“Leave Arabella be, Caroline,” their mother, Lady Drummel, stopped before them. “Was that Lord Eversham?” The analytical gleam in her eyes was plain to see. After it became apparent that Arabella’s prospects were dead in the water, their enterprising mother had focused nearly all of her attention on Caroline in the hopes that the grand title she was likely to gain would make up for Arabella’s dismal failure. Her mother’s disinterest still stung, but not as severely as it once had. This was the unfortunate way of things, after all.
“Yes, he wanted a dance, but my card was full.”
“Well,” Lady Drummel smiled. “I’m sure he will come around again. Though I have another, better prospect for you, my dear.”
“Oh?” Caroline smiled prettily.
“You’ll see.”
Moments later, a grandly fashioned lady with the most regal bearing that Arabella had ever seen appeared behind her mother. “There you are, Felicity. I thought I recognized you in this crowd.” The woman smiled, the expression dazzling despite her age.
Her mother turned and dipped into a curtsey. “Your Grace. It has been far too long.”
The apparent duchess chuckled. “Please, do not be so formal with me.”
“It is so wonderful to see you in London again. It’s been what? Ten years?”
