“Nothing,” he said tersely. “Come, I want to speak with Isaac, then we can find you someone to dance with.”
Someone who Thomas approved of. Mary made a face. Thomas’ taste in men was not any better than his taste in women.
Although considering Mary’s reaction to the Marquess of Hartford and her complete lack of interest in any other gentleman she had met so far, perhaps she should worry it was a family trait.
Chapter 1
Mary
“You are blonde,” Josie said, blinking in surprise as she walked through Mary’s bedroom door. She came to a halt, nearly causing their friend Lily to bump into her from behind. As usual, Josie was wearing her breeches since she had just ridden over and refused to ride sidesaddle, and her hair was coming loose from her coiffure. In contrast, Lily’s demure walking dress covered her from nape to ankle, and her hair was pulled back in its customary tight bun.
She had not seen them since she left for London’s Season, but two moments in their presence and it was as though they had never been apart. The three of them had been neighbors and had grown up together, eventually adding Evie to their group, and now they were here she truly felt at home. If only Evie were there too, it would be perfect.
“Well, keep walking,” Lily said irritably, shoving Josie forward. Her arms full of papers, she briskly walked over to Mary’s desk to set them down before turning to peer at Mary. “You are blonder. Or is it just that you were so very red when we last saw you?”
“She is definitely blonder, although not quite the same shade as me.” Josie went up on her tiptoes, squinting and studying Mary’s hair. “I take it, Mrs. Biggins was finally successful?”
Mary sighed. The chaperone her parents had left her with for the past few years had very particular opinions on what would make a young woman attractive to a nobleman. When Mary had been presented last Season, Mrs. Biggins had been frantic to fix her strawberry blonde hair and freckled nose. Last year, all she had achieved was to make her hair even darker red than its normal strawberry blonde. This year, Mrs. Biggins was very pleased with her efforts, which had turned Mary’s hair more blonde than strawberry.
“Of course.” Mary certainly did not care whether or not her hair was a fashionable color. It wasn’t as though she expected anyone to notice her either way. Her sponsor for the Season, her Aunt Elizabeth, had not been bothered, other than to direct the modiste to provide them with hues which would complement her coloring.
Mary had been staying with her Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Henry until a week ago. She’d returned to the grange her parents owned when the fourth member of their coterie, Evie, had asked her to. Her last letter had been frustratingly brief, but she had put out the call, and Mary had responded. Josie and Lily had not left the area, neither of them debuting in London, so they had already been on hand. It had only been Mary who had to travel back.
“It is not a bad hue,” Josie said slowly, walking round Mary to examine her from all sides. “I think I liked the auburn better, though.”
“Do not let Mrs. Biggins hear you say so,” Mary retorted, her lips starting to curve up in a smile. “Now, come here and give me a hug.”
Giggling, both of her friends responded to her plea, and they wrapped each other up in a warm embrace that bolstered Mary’s spirits. It was so good to be back with them again.
“Oh, I missed you this year!” She squeezed them tighter, tears sparking in her eyes, and they returned the embrace.
Finally, the young women pulled apart, and Mary dashed away her tears. Being part of the Hood family household had been absolutely lovely, but she wasn’t very good at making new friends, and being without her childhood companions had been difficult.
“Well, you will not miss us much longer,” Lily said. “We are coming to London this year.”
Mary’s jaw dropped in surprise. “You are? But I thought…” Her voice trailed off.
Mary was the youngest of her friends at nineteen years of age, so the others were older than the usual run of London debutantes. This was by their own choice, though, as they had never been interested in leaving the countryside.
Goddaughter of the Duke and Duchess of Frederick, Lily said she preferred to avoid Society if given the choice. She was a self-proclaimed bluestocking who preferred the quiet life of the countryside. Her parents were similarly inclined, her father a respected researcher on medicine—whose experiments had once saved the Duke of Frederick’s life—and her mother an expert botanist whose gardens were renowned among the ton.
Josie, on the other hand, was the daughter of an English squire and a Marquess’ daughter. Her mother had caused a scandal when she had married beneath her station for love, but most thought the story highly romantic. Like her mother, Josie loved socializing and dancing, but no matter how her mother pushed, she had steadfastly refused to go to London for a Season. Mary thought it likely had something to do with Josie’s neighbors, Evie’s extremely handsome and eligible cousins. No matter how vehemently she denied it, Josie was constantly mooning over the middle brother, Joseph.
“Evie wants us there,” Lily said in her usual brusque manner, waving off Mary’s surprise. “I wrote to my godmother and told her I was interested in having a Season. One Season.” She rolled her eyes. “The Duchess was thrilled. I leave in two days.” She heaved a great sigh. “Apparently, I need an entirely new wardrobe, and only the modistes on Bruton Street will do.”
“They are very good,” Mary reassured her. Lily made a face. She did need a new wardrobe. Since she disliked shopping in general, her dresses were years out of fashion. It did not matter here in Derbyshire, but it would in London.
“Well, I am looking forward to my new wardrobe,” Josie said, tossing her head. A few more tendrils drifted down from her coiffure, which was already lopsided and falling.
Even in boy’s clothes, with the delicate features of her face, the ample curves of her body, and the honey blonde locks of her hair tumbling down to frame her face, she hardly looked boyish, although she did appear to be the hoyden she was. Her skin was tanned from the outdoors, her nails ragged, and her hands were callused from handling the reins. It was hard to imagine. Unlike Lily, she was the one who enjoyed shopping, fashion, and fripperies.
While Lily embraced being a bluestocking in every sense of the word, Josie lived to confound expectations.
“Are you only going for this Season, too?” Mary asked, amused.
“I suppose it depends on whether I manage to find a husband.” She shrugged nonchalantly.
Lily rolled her eyes, giving Mary a significant look. “Evie’s cousins are going to London for the Season this year as well.”
Ah ha. Josie’s sudden enthusiasm for London made more sense. She would not like it if Joseph left for London and came home with a bride.
“That has nothing to do with it.” Josie crossed her arms over her chest, scowling. “Evie asked me to go to London, so I shall.”
“For which I am very grateful,” said a teasing voice from the doorway.
“Evie!” They all squealed her name, turning and pouncing on the final member of their group.
Mary flung herself at Evie, wrapping her arms around her friend, only to lose her breath when the other two slammed into her from behind. They all hugged and squealed, girlish laughter filling the air. Finally, they were complete again, and Mary’s heart was full of warmth and happiness. She loved her aunt and uncle’s house and her cousins and their wives who were becoming her friends, but it was not the same as being with her best friends. It had been far too long since the four of them were together.