“Well, she is very beautiful,” he said off-handedly, aware Arabella was regarding him with suspicion. “Who are the young ladies beside her?”
“Miss Lillian Davis, the Duchess of Richmond’s goddaughter, and Miss Josephine Pennyworth, only daughter of Squire Brown of Derbyshire.” A little smile curved Arabella’s lips. “Miss Pennyworth is a cracking rider and is already establishing herself as an Original.” She looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to express interest in the woman she thought would make him a better match than her husband’s cousin.
Cynthia was also looking at him intently, although there was something different about her gaze. Suddenly, she leaned forward.
“Is it true you have a secret debauchery club?” she asked.
Rex nearly choked. He was used to blunt-speaking from Arabella, but there were still certain topics one did not bring up in a drawing-room. Especially when there were so many listening ears only a few feet away, no matter that she had spoken quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“I heard you did,” she said airily. “I want to come to one. May I have an invitation?”
Rex stared at her, nonplussed. Perhaps he should be grateful Spencer had gotten her to the altar before she debuted—how on earth did the man control her?
“Wesley is going to spank the dickens out of you,” Arabella said, covering her mouth with her hand to cover her laughter. Well, that answered that. Cynthia just smiled serenely, unconcerned by Arabella’s observation. Rex shook his head in bemusement.
“Your husband has already declined a prior invitation,” he informed her, just to see what her reaction would be. She scowled fiercely.
“Blast.”
He choked on another laugh. Perhaps he would have to issue another invitation. If Spencer said yes, the results would surely be entertaining.
Mary
Watching Hartford conversing with Arabella and Cynthia was doing odd things to the insides of Mary’s stomach. It flipped and flopped about, churning when he laughed at something Cynthia said. That was the type of woman Hartford was looking for in his bride—someone like Arabella or Cynthia. Someone like Josie.
Certainly, not someone like her. She could count on one hand the number of sentences she’d said to the visiting gentlemen the entire afternoon, and she had not made a single one of them laugh. They were not there for her, anyway. They had come because Josie and Lily were there, although the vast majority of the attention was going to Josie.
There were still several suitors focused on Lily—although Lily had already whispered her private summation of them to Mary—brown-nosers looking for a connection to her godparents. Lily was singularly unimpressed.
It was not that Mary wanted the particular attention of any of the gentlemen in the room. It would just be nice to not feel quite so invisible. She did not mind when she was trying to avoid notice, but it was lowering when she was supposed to be attracting a husband.
Then Hartford had come in, and every part of her body had seized. Her lips had started tingling again, her heart had begun to race, then he had met her gaze… before breaking off and making a beeline for Arabella and Cynthia. Relief had battled for supremacy with disappointment. She had made herself look away from the conversing trio, reminding herself he was not a marital prospect.
That afternoon was supposed to be about finding a likely gentleman or two for her to consider. There were several gentlemen on the list of names her family had come up with, and…
Why was Walter in the doorway? And why was he looking at Hartford in that manner?
When Hartford bowed to Arabella and Cynthia and began to move toward the doorway, Mary realized Walter had indicated he wished to speak to Hartford—and Hartford was responding. What the devil? How did they know each other?
As if they were puzzle pieces falling into place—Walter’s secretive behavior, his inordinately late nights, and the bags under his eyes—they put together a picture she had not considered before.
Walter is part of Hartford’s club.
Heart beating faster than a galloping horse, Mary turned to Lily, interrupting whatever Lord Walton had been saying about comparing Lily’s eyes to dark ponds in the moonlight. Lily would likely be relieved.
“Oh, I just remembered… did you want to see the new book I bought?”
It was one of the worst lies she had ever told, so thrown by her revelations, she could not even think of a convincing title for a book. Lily blinked at her, eyes darting over to see Hartford retreating. Walter was no longer standing in the doorway, but Lily quickly picked up on Mary’s desire to follow Hartford.
“Oh, yes, please,” Lily said, smiling. “I am so glad you remembered.”
“I will be back momentarily,” Mary said reassuringly. She might as well not have bothered. The gentlemen who had been conversing with Lily seemed surprised that Mary was speaking to them and to those who were currently trying to impress Josie with their knowledge of horses.
Aunt Elizabeth was paying attention, and her sharp gaze followed Mary’s path across the room. She smiled at her aunt as innocently as she could, forcing herself to walk as normally as possible, pretending she did not feel Aunt Elizabeth’s watching her all the way out the door.
Safely out of the room, she looked around and saw a flash of movement at the end of the hall leading to the stairs. Hurrying down the hall, she slowed when she reached the corner, the low murmur of masculine voices confirming Hartford and Walter were just around it. This area of the house would be deserted right now, as Walter knew, so they clearly felt comfortable conversing. She crept forward, pressing against the wall until Walter’s voice became discernible.
“Roger and I can stay away tonight if it will cause difficulties—”
“No.” Hartford cut Walter off. “You are both welcome, and I personally guarantee Lucas will not cause another scene.”
“We do not want to cause you any difficulties.” Walter sounded almost apologetic. “You have made things possible that I never knew…” His voice trailed off, his tone becoming almost embarrassed.
“You two are not the difficult ones.” Hartford chuckled. “Besides, it is a masquerade. He will not bother you at future events, period, or he will deal with me, but tonight, he will probably not even know who to bother. I will see both you and Roger tonight at Hartford house, yes?”
Wide-eyed, Mary began backing away before she could hear Walter’s answer, her mind racing.
Her cousin really was a member of Hartford’s secret society!
Not only that, but there was going to be a masquerade tonight at Hartford house… this would be her chance.
But first, she had to get through the afternoon and find an excuse to skip Lady Farthingale’s ball tonight. And find a book to bring back to Lily that would not raise her aunt’s suspicions.
Fortunately, Mary had purchased three new books recently, although she did not think Lily was going to be particularly impressed with her selections. Mary’s tastes had recently taken a turn for the gothic and supernatural, both of which Lily thought were trite. It was not as though she would actually have to read the book, though.
Hurrying to her room, Mary snatched up the second book on her nightstand and flew downstairs. She was moving so quickly, she nearly ran into the Marquess of Hartford in the hall. With a little shriek, she managed to come to a halt just in time.