Page 25

The room was slowly filling up as the rest of the guests made their way into the drawing room. With the addition of Christian, Miss Fenley, and the younger Mr. Fenley to the conversation, it flowed more easily than before, which was a relief for Sebastian. Especially when Hayworth bristled as much at Christian as he had at Sebastian.

Perhaps his dislike was not personal, but more protective, which would make sense considering the role he’d been cast in for the house party. Lady Juliette was without her older parents or a sibling, so her family friend had been put in the role of protective elder brother.

As an elder brother himself, Sebastian could appreciate that.

The room suddenly began to hush, much in the way it had for Drake’s rather dramatic entrance, though with a tinge of awe rather than consternation. Sebastian and the others turned toward the door to see what had caught everyone’s attention.

Lady Darcy certainly knew how to make an entrance.

She smiled demurely, as if unaware of the stir she’d caused, yet it was clear that such a reaction had been exactly her aim. The dress she was wearing was designed to draw attention, its jade green color enhancing her eyes, while diamonds twinkled from her blonde locks and dripped from her ears and neck. The ivory gloves on her arms were encircled by more diamonds around her wrists. Yet she did not look at all gaudy; she looked like exactly what she was—a stunningly beautiful English lady who had been raised to grace and run a noble household.

Both of her parents and brothers followed her into the room, having allowed her to make her entrance on her own. Despite her attempt to appear neutral, Lady Alexander had a slightly smug expression on her face. She knew that her daughter had just had a moment. One that none of the other young ladies had managed, nor would they necessarily be able to replicate.

There was just something about her.

Beside Sebastian, Miss Fenley sighed. He turned his attention to her, arching one eyebrow, and she blushed.

“I was admiring Lady Darcy,” she admitted in a low voice. “I do not think I have ever been able to make such an entrance, and I am rather envious.”

“I think there are very few who could,” Sebastian reassured her. “Besides, if everyone were able to do so, then it would hardly stand out.”

Miss Fenley laughed, relaxing, and he smiled down at her. She did not have the same kind of presence as Lady Darcy, but that was not necessarily to her detriment. She was very easy to be around. Something that he was not sure he would be able to say of Lady Darcy.

Feeling eyes on him, Sebastian looked up again and around the room, his gaze immediately going to Miss Hu… but she was not looking at him. It must have been someone else.

The latest arrivals were making their way around the room, greeting everyone, slowly but purposefully moving toward where Sebastian and Christian were with the other potential brides. They had not quite made it when the supper gong sounded, and Tiffany began to direct couples through the door, requesting that a few of the gentlemen escort two ladies as their numbers were a bit uneven.

Sebastian knew he would not be one of those, however. The whole point of this party was to allow him to get to know the ladies better, which meant he needed one to focus on.

“Brother, if you would escort Lady Juliette? And Lord Hayworth, I’m sure Miss Fenley would be pleased to take your arm.” Both young ladies smiled, and Hayworth nodded, offering his arm to Miss Fenley, who took it with a smile. If she was displeased at being parted from Sebastian or taken aback by Hayworth’s cool demeanor, she did not show it.

“Lady Juliette.” Sebastian smiled his most charming smile and offered his arm.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Delicate fingers landed on his sleeve, perched as lightly as a bird that might flitter away at any moment. As they prepared to leave the room, Drake came striding back in, changed and his face washed of the dust from travel. Unsurprisingly, despite the tension between him and his betrothed, he made straight for the back of the room where Lady Astrid was. Even though they could not help but snipe at each other, Drake always did his social duty of standing by her side when he was there to do so.

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder to see who Tiffany was pairing Miss Hu with, unsure of why he cared, but unable to keep himself from looking. The sense of relief he felt when he saw her instruct Drake to offer both his arms—one to Lady Astrid and one to Miss Hu—really made no sense at all.

Why should he care who escorted Miss Hu?

He did not. Of course.

Mei

Seated between the Duke of Ormonde and Mr. Simon Fenley, the younger of Miss Fenley’s brothers, Mei had an unobscured view of the Duke of Bolton as he was directly across from her. Mei wished that Tiffany had put her between two of the dukes, preferably the claimed dukes, because Mr. Fenley seemed eager to converse with her.

Not about matchmaking, but with her.

She supposed that with her connections, the youngest son of the youngest son of a marquess might feel that she was a possible ingenue, but that was not why she was here. Thankfully, her grandmother was not there to see the young man currently demanding her attention with his enthusiastic description of the work he was doing on the house he’d inherited from a great-aunt. Small but cozy, with a great deal of land and several tenants.

Mei had a feeling they had very different definitions of the word ‘small.’

It would be rude not to pay attention to him, yet she was supposed to be watching the Duke of Bolton interact with the two ladies on either side of him—Lady Juliette and Lady Darcy. She was also attempting to keep an eye on Lord Hayworth, who was seated beside Miss Fenley but kept looking over at Lady Juliette and Bolton.

“There is a rather large garden, too,” Mr. Fenley informed Mei. “It used to be a rose garden, but unfortunately, it’s fallen into a bit of disrepair after my great-aunt became ill and was unable to oversee it properly. Do you enjoy gardening?”

He was so very sweet and foppish, Mei could not possibly be cold to him. It would be like kicking a puppy.

“I do, though my grandmother is the more dedicated gardener,” she replied. Though she was trying to engage with him, she also could not help but be a bit wicked. “Though we grow more vegetables than flowers.”