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Ah, this was the Duchess of Milton, then. Arabella had heard of the famed lady’s return to high society this season. A grieving widow who hadn’t stepped a foot in London since the tragic loss of her husband and son, the woman’s grand reentry had been the talk of the Ton for weeks. Most seemed convinced that her remaining child, the current duke, was hunting for a bride, and if the way Her Grace’s face honed in on Caroline as she spoke with their mother, the assumption was likely not off the mark.
Their mother, either sensing the interest or expecting it, turned towards them with a sweep of her hand. “And these are my daughters. Caroline had her come out last year and has been a smashing success so far. Caroline, this is my dearest friend from finishing school, The Duchess of Milton.”
She hadn’t known of her mother boasting a friendship with the duchess, but then her mother hardly spoke to her at the best of occasions, even less so now that there was Caroline to focus on. It seemed Arabella wasn’t even worthy of an introduction, though perhaps their mother was merely too excited at the prospect of snagging a duke to remember the oft forgotten daughter. The duchess, however, seemed to possess far better manners, for after gracing Caroline with a friendly smile and as her sister dipped, she shifted her attention. “And this lovely young lady?”
Arabella blinked a moment, wholly expecting the duchess to dote on Caroline, before lowering. “Arabella, Your Grace.”
The duchess peered at her, before widening her smile. “Do you like dancing, Miss Hughs?”
“Very much. Though I’ve come to understand that liking to dance rarely equates to getting the opportunity.” Oh, hell. She’d opened her fat mouth and said something prickly again. Arabella resisted the urge to slap a hand over her face. She’d been getting worse with her manners as of late, and while such a development normally served her well in this season’s endeavor to remain outside of the marriage mart, acting in such a way before a duchess was a bit too much. The subtle pinch of her mother’s hand on her side confirmed as much.
But before the duchess could react, Caroline and her sweetness swooped in to save the day. “Arabella is quite fatigued and unable to exert herself this evening, sadly. Why, just a moment ago, she was forced to turn down a most lovely young lord.” Such words were why, no matter how much she was outshined, Arabella would never resent her sister. Caroline was as beautiful within as she was on the surface, her steadfast ally when she should by all rights disdain her as much as their mother.
“Oh, how unfortunate,” the older woman lamented kindly. That odd light of interest towards Arabella faded, and Her Grace gazed kindly upon Caroline. “And how has your evening been, Miss Caroline? I hear there is practically a line to secure a dance with you at just about every ball this season.”
Arabella turned from the conversation as Caroline made some elegant reply, their mother chiming in with praise at every opportunity. Though there had been that odd moment of attention from the Duchess, like with everyone else, her sister’s shine had taken hold. It was likely for the best, lest Arabella let another quip slip and embarrass them all. A good impression with the woman might get Caroline an introduction to the Duke, and Arabella certainly would not hinder such an endeavor. It was herself she was sabotaging this year, not anyone else.
The trio continued to prattle, and Arabella surpressed a yawn of boredom whilst surveying the ballroom. She’d grown skilled at observation during her semi self-imposed wallflowerhood, and the Ton never disappointed with its hidden scandals. The amount of subtle assignations alone she could spot within an evening provided ample entertainment. Sadly, she noted with mild disappointment, the people milling about on this evening appeared as dull as the rest of tonight’s ball.
Her eyes roved the floor until something, or rather someone, caught her eye. Tall and dark-haired, with deep blue eyes and a sculpted face, the person she spied from across the room epitomized the look of a classically handsome gentleman. He appeared happy and relaxed, chatting to his companion in a casual way that told her he cared little for the opinion of onlookers, and why would he? The striking similarity to the duchess, along with the fact that the man next to him was the infamous Lord Lockhart, whom only boasted of a handful of friends, could only mean that it was the Duke of Milton she surveyed. His Grace smiled at something Lockhart said, the expression lighting up his face to such a dazzling degree that it nearly blew her senses away. Perhaps Caroline hadn’t been entirely wrong in her observations of this season’s batch of gentlemen. Exciting possibilities, indeed.
Lord Lockhart gestured in their direction, and she suppressed an unwanted pinprick of envy as Milton’s focus settled on Caroline. Arabella tore her gaze from him in disappointment, not interested in seeing another man mooning after her sister. She continued surveying the ballroom despite its dullness, her thoughts straying. No doubt the duke would hone in on Caroline, and she was sure that her mother was angling for an introduction, if the way the woman was all but extolling Caroline’s virtues to the duchess were any sign. Arabella tightened her lips, attempting to suppress an amused smile as she heard her mother loudly and vividly describing Caroline’s skill at embroidery. She couldn’t blame her mother for trying so hard. Potentially snagging a duke was a rare opportunity for even the best of diamonds. Though, perhaps the duke was enamored already.
The smile broke through, and Arabella entertained herself with a momentary image of him doting in their drawing room like a besotted fool along with the rest of her sister’s daily morning court. She dared a look back at Milton, wondering if he was still staring. Indeed, the man was looking in their direction, his lovely blue eyes focused squarely on… herself? Arabella blinked, wondering if she was imagining things. But no, his gaze was fixed firmly upon her person. Their eyes met, and he gave her a small nod, mouth quirking. She wasn’t sure which was stronger: the utter bewilderment that a duke of all people would find anything of interest in her or the flush that threatened to overtake her at a duke of all people, finding anything of interest in her. But then, Lord Lockhart took Milton’s attention once more, and the two fell into deep conversation. Arabella exhaled in relief as the men turned and walked off, obviously heading for some predetermined destination.
“Oh, drat.” The duchess’s voice took her attention once more. “I’m sorry, Felicity, but it looks like my son has wondered off somewhere. What a shame. I was hoping to bring him over here.”
“He went with Lord Lockhart,” Arabella supplied before her mother could speak.
“You recognized him, then?” The duchess looked at her with that odd expression once more.
“He is rather hard to miss.” Arabella clamped her lips shut, that flush threatening to truly take hold. Thank goodness Milton had left, for she wasn’t sure she could handle his presence up close, even if over the shoulder of her sister.
The Duchess chuckled. “Indeed, he is.”
“Well,” her mother interrupted. “I am sure there will be ample opportunity tonight to introduce us. And of course, Caroline would certainly be happy to receive Your Graces in our drawing room.”
For someone who often scolded Arabella for impertinent words, her mother did, on occasion, prove herself to be just as uncouth. She couldn’t think of a more embarrassingly direct hint. Lady Drummel nudged Caroline. “Wouldn’t you, darling?”
Her sister needed no prompting. “Oh, yes, very much so.”
“Well,” the duchess smiled magnanimously. “We will look forward to seeing you, Miss Caroline.” She nodded at Arabella. “And Miss Hughs.”
Touched that the woman had made a gesture to include her, Arabella returned the expression. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Soon after, the duchess took her leave, their mother staring mournfully at her form as she disappeared into the throng. “I do hope we can get you that introduction tonight, Caroline. You, a duchess. Can you imagine!”
“Whatever happens, happens, Mama,” Caroline replied calmly, seeming just as amused as she at their mother's exuberance. She turned to Arabella, her curiosity palpable. “So, was he handsome?”
“Very much so, and he seemed kind, from a distance, at least. I am sure you will like him.”
She clapped her hands. “Oh, how fun!”
Yes, she thought rather dreamily. Marvelous, indeed.
ChapterTwo
As expected,they found Kirkwood deep in the home’s expansive garden, crouched in front of a flower bush and peering at one leaf through his quizzing glass. Nearby, Thurmont held his pocket watch, tapping one foot and glaring at the doors with obvious impatience. His gaze narrowed as Nathan and Lockwood approached. “There you are. By God, I was about to give up and wander off. Kirkwood has been muttering nonsense about that bloody bush for the past fifteen minutes.”
