Chapter Seven A Soirée Sets the Stage

Later that night

Wishing she could have worn a gown in a brighter color, Amelia regarded her reflection in the cheval mirror with a sigh. The pale jonquil silk she held up in front of her was perfectly suitable for that night's soirée, but just once, she wished she could wear something darker. Bolder in color.

She caught Trimble's reflection in the mirror. "Have you spoken with Mrs. Pritchard about the primers you bought?" She handed the garment to the lady's maid.

"Oh, yes. We've already spent some time this morning going through the first lesson. I've learned several words," the servant gushed.

"That's wonderful," Amelia said, stepping into the gown as Trimble held it open for her. "I do hope the two of you can continue the lessons every day."

"She says she'll keep a half-hour for me in the mornings whilst you have your breakfast," Trimble said, doing up the buttons at the back of the gown.

"Are you ready?"

Amelia turned to discover her brother at the door. She dared one more glance in the cheval mirror before saying, "I am." Sensing his impatience, she hurried to join him. "You look like a blade… and you look tired. What's wrong?"

Alfred winced. "I couldn't sleep last night. I doubt I'll stay long tonight, but… it's fine if you do."

"How will I get home?"

"Mother sent word she was detained at her modiste's shop. She'll be along in her own coach in an hour or so," he explained

Amelia's eyes widened. "I am not bringing Trimble with me tonight," she countered, thinking she would require a chaperone until their mother was in attendance.

"Fine," he said, apparently not of a mind to argue with her. "I'll play at being your chaperone."

Making their way down the stairs, Amelia glanced over at him several times. "Alfred, what's wrong?"

He huffed. "Nothing. I'm just tired is all."

"That's not it," she accused.

"Amelia," he said in a warning voice.

"Tell me in the coach," she said, turning to allow Pritchard to help her with her mantle.

He offered his arm and the two made their way to the Weston town coach. Amelia stepped up, surprised to discover their mother was already inside. "I thought you were going to be detained," she said, taking the seat opposite.

"My modiste finished my gown for tomorrow night and had this one ready..." Helena opened her mantle to show off a gown in a bright blue silk. "So there was no need to change clothes," she said, watching her son take the seat next to his sister. "Thought I may as well wear it tonight." She turned her attention on Alfred. "Pritchard mentioned you had some applicants for that position we talked about. Were there any you liked?"

He seemed uncomfortable for a moment. "Three, I think. I cannot decide, though. Do I choose the one who writes fast, the one who has the most experience but who writes more slowly than honey drips, or the one who used to be the man of business for the Earl of Montaine?" he asked rhetorically.

"Depends. Why is the one who was the man of business for the Earl of Montaine no longer employed by Montaine?"

"He died, Mother," Amelia said. "His heir has no need of a man of business as he's quite capable of doing it himself. Or so he says."

Both Alfred and Helena turned to regard her with surprise. "How do you know this?"

"We were talking about it at the last ball," she replied. "I danced with him."

Helena arched a brow. "Sounds as if Montaine's former man of business might be your best choice," she said, turning her attention back to her son.

"I'll let Pritchard know when I return," Alfred replied, giving his sister a beseeching glance. "You might have told me."

She scoffed. "I would have told you if you had mentioned you were in the market for a man of business," she countered. "What else do you need?"

He rolled his eyes, but the gesture went unseen in the darkened coach. "Oh, let's see. A duchess?" he said, sarcasm evident in his voice.

Helena inhaled softly, but Amelia wasn't about to be cowed by his behavior. "I'll introduce you to my new friend again," she said in a whisper. "Despite her age, she has plenty of experience hosting events and is quite amiable." Before he could ask, she added, "She's quite comely, too. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and she has a nice figure."

"Why haven't you introduced her to me before?" he asked, annoyance sounding in his voice.

"I did. You barely acknowledged her existence, which makes me think that I shouldn't introduce you again," she countered with a huff. "I hear Lord Daniel is in the market for a wife—"

"I'll acknowledge her existence," Alfred said in a hoarse whisper. "I'll even sit next to her should there be any chairs."

"There will be chairs, there will be a card parlor, and there will be dancing," their mother said from her side of the coach. "Lady Everly apprised us of the details during yesterday's tea."

"You say that as if there was some doubt as to whether or not she could host such an event," Amelia commented.

"It never ceases to amaze me that just because she was born to a Greek woman, my contemporaries believe Stella incapable of being a good hostess," Helena remarked. "Poor woman has proven over and over again she's a competent hostess and capable of doing her duty. The fact that she gave birth to a spare heir at her age is proof enough as far as I'm concerned."

"Wasn't her father a duke?" Alfred asked.

"Indeed. Westhaven. He was an archaeologist," Helena said. "I expect tonight's event will be the envy of many hostesses this Season."

"If we introduce you to your eventual wife, it will be," Amelia said, nudging Alfred with an elbow.

Alfred moaned as if in pain.

The talk of marriage had Amelia pondering her future with Philip.

Once she was married, she would be moving into her husband's home, bringing with her some trunks filled with clothes and a few personal items. If she agreed to stay on as her lady's maid, Trimble would be moving to Fenwick House as well, which meant she wouldn't be able to continue her lessons with the housekeeper. Hopefully, there would be someone at Fenwick House who could see to continuing her reading lessons.

The coach stuttered to a halt in front of Rosemount House, and thoughts of Trimble were quickly replaced by thoughts of Philip.

"Now, don't get into any trouble," Philip said when he helped Violet out of her mantle and handed it to a footman in the vestibule of Rosemount House.

"I should be the one telling you that," she said, looking about for their hostess. "Come. Introduce me," she ordered.

Having developed a fast friendship with Alexander, heir to the Everly earldom, over their shared interest in metallurgy and jewels, Philip had met the young man's parents on more than one occasion since his arrival in London. "She's the one at the bottom of the stairs."

Violet inhaled sharply. "She's gorgeous," she whispered.

"It's a pity the daughter isn't as pretty, but she's barely had her come-out," he said. "A few more years..."

"You'll already be wed by then," Violet said with a smirk.

"Let's hope."

When Stella, Countess of Everly, acknowledged them, Philip introduced his sister.

"It's so good of you to join us this evening," the countess gushed. "Do enjoy yourselves."

Violet curtsied and allowed her brother to lead her into another room where a four-piece orchestra was playing. The Turkish rug had been rolled up and removed, leaving a bare floor suitable for dancing. In the next room, a table filled with finger foods sat adjacent to a table set with a huge punchbowl. Footmen scurried about with trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Passing through yet another set of open doors, they entered a library featuring a huge glass tank filled with water and colorful fish.

"Oh!" Violet said as she paused to admire the aquatic display. "I could watch these creatures for an hour," she claimed.

"Good, because this is where I'm leaving you," her brother remarked, his attention on the doorway.

"I take it Amelia has arrived?" she asked rhetorically, never taking her eyes off the colorful fish. "Are you two going to play house?"

When he didn't answer, she glanced around and realized she was alone in the library. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to the fish, not taking her eyes from a bright blue one that darted about from one side of the tank to the other.

Apparently he wasn't used to being seen by someone other than whoever fed him.

When she moved to one end of the tank, her gaze through the water and two layers of glass brought a rather oddly distorted image into focus, and she stepped back in surprise.

"Your Grace," she said, belatedly dipping a curtsy.

Alfred blinked and stared at her for a moment before he reached for her hand. "Forgive me. You look familiar, but I don't believe we've met," he said, his statement becoming a query at the last moment.

Violet glanced around, hoping to discover someone she knew who could do the introduction. When she realized they were alone, she said, "Violet, Your Grace. I'm a friend of your sister's."

He took her hand to his lips and brushed them over the back of her glove. "Amelia seems to be friends with everyone," he remarked. "You may call me Weston."

Violet's eyes widened. To be allowed the courtesy to call him by his title surprised her. "I am honored, Your Grace."

"If Amelia learned otherwise, she would scold me quite thoroughly," he replied. His attention went back to the fish. "Have you seen these creatures before?"

"I have not. They are fascinating to watch, though," she replied, her gaze going to a brightly striped fish.

"I understand Everly brought back a number of them from a trip to the tropics many years ago. Before Alexander was born," Alfred explained, referring to the Earl of Everly's oldest son.

"They must have long lives."

"Or he's been successful with some sort of breeding program," the young duke remarked, at the same moment miniature versions of the striped fish swam by.

Violet giggled. "It's as if they have decided they wish to put on a show for us," she said, turning back to discover Alfred staring at her. "Is something wrong?"

He gave a start. "No. Nothing's wrong. I was merely wondering how it is I don't recall seeing you before this evening."

Lifting a shoulder, she said, "I've only been in Town for a month at most. I doubt we've been at more than one or two of the entertainments at the same time."

"I'm sure I would have remembered," he said, dipping his head.

"You've no doubt been otherwise occupied," she countered.

He pulled his head back as if he'd been punched in the jaw. "What… what do you mean?"

Violet realized she might have offended the duke. "I only meant that with the death of your father, you've been having to run the Weston dukedom all by yourself," she said, reaching out to touch his forearm with her gloved hand. "You can hardly be expected to trouble yourself with such trivial matters as attending balls and soirées," she added. "So I'm very glad to see you this evening."

"You are?" He seemed surprised by her comment.

"Well, of course. There are rarely enough intriguing young men at these events."

He blinked. "Do you think there will be dancing this evening?"

"Oh, yes. Lady Everly has had the carpet rolled up in the room next door," she replied, indicating the adjacent parlor. "An orchestra is in there playing now."

Alfred seemed to listen for a moment before he said, "You're right. I'm not sure how I didn't notice the music before."

"Well, it is hard to hear over this device that's making all the bubbles in the water," Violet remarked, a finger pointing to a strange machine located beneath the tank.

"Must be powered by gas," Alfred guessed, bending down to inspect a contraption with hoses snaking out of it.

"It is indeed," Harold Tennison, Earl of Everly, stated, joining them to examine the machine in question. "Provides heat and air for these critters."

"Lord Everly," Violet said, dipping a curtsy.

"Everly," Alfred said. "So good of you to invite me."

"It's good of you to come," Everly countered. He turned to Violet. "You're a friend of Lady Amelia's, are you not?"

Violet beamed in delight. "I am, my lord. I am Violet—"

"There you are, young lady," Katherine said, joining them from the parlor. She turned her attention on the gentlemen. "Your Grace, Lord Everly," she said, curtsying to their bows.

"Your Grace," Everly said, a moment before Alfred afforded her the same courtesy.

"Aunt Katherine, Weston and I have been admiring Lord Everly's aquatic kingdom," Violet said, giving the duke a shy grin.

Everly scoffed. "It is a kingdom of sorts, and every one of these creatures acts as if they own the place," he said. "They play about all day and provide absolutely nothing in return, but they expect to be fed, kept warm, and provided air to breathe."

"They provide entertainment," Violet argued.

"They are rather relaxing to watch," Alfred chimed in. "Almost makes me forget how much I must do when I return to Weston Hall this evening."

Violet gave him a beseeching glance. "It is a pity you're not able to enjoy the soirée, Your Grace."

"I should enjoy it more if you afford me a dance, Lady Violet."

"Of course I shall dance with you," she said, well aware her aunt seemed less than pleased by the plan.

Katherine and Everly exchanged quick glances before Everly said, "Pardon me, but I believe I am being summoned. My countess is waving at me."

Violet curtsied as the earl hurried toward the parlor.

"I'm off to the card parlor," Katherine said, her gaze darting between Alfred and Violet. "Do behave."

"Yes, Your Grace," the two said in unison. When the older woman took her leave, Alfred and Violet faced one another and chuckled softly. "I'm not exactly sure what she thinks we might try," Violet commented.

Alfred didn't say anything in response, and when she arched an eyebrow as if that might urge him to agree, he inhaled suddenly. "So, you're not going to play cards with her?"

"Oh, mayhap later. Probably when Amelia is ready to do so," she replied.

The comment seemed to please him. "Although I enjoy an occasional game of cards, I'm afraid I haven't the interest. Perhaps because I'm not much of a gambler."

"My aunt said something about them that gave me an appreciation for them," Violet responded.

"Oh?"

"It's silly, really," she said with a shrug. "But she explained there are fifty-two cards in a deck, and those represent the fifty-two weeks in a year. The two colors are for day and night. There are four suits for the four seasons, and thirteen weeks per season."

Alfred's eyes widened. "I suppose the twelve court cards represent twelve months?"

"Exactly," she replied. "And there's something about the value of the cards? Their numbers adding up to something?"

He angled his head to one side. "Let's see. If you add up each of the cards in a deck," he went on, "Ace counts as one plus two plus three plus..." He paused, his fingers splaying out as his brows furrowed. "Jacks count as eleven, queens as twelve, and kings as thirteen..." He seemed to think for a moment. "Then you have ninety-one for each suit and a total three-hundred-and-sixty-four, which is equal to the number of days in a year."

Violet blinked. "Did you do that addition in your head?" she asked, obviously impressed.

He chuckled softly. "I did. The one thing I am good at is numbers," he commented. His brow suddenly furrowed. "So... why do you suppose there are jokers in a deck of cards?"

"For use in a leap year," she replied, grinning in delight.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Of course. Like this year is," he remarked. "I shall remember this information when I next play cards."

"It has made it more interesting for me," she admitted. When he didn't respond but merely stared at her, she nervously glanced around the study.

"Oh, uh, will you dance with me?" he suddenly asked.

Violet grinned. "I would be honored."

The two made their way into the parlor, where a longways dance was already in progress. They joined the end of the line, merging in with the other dancers.

Keeping her eye out for her brother—she had expected him to be dancing with Amelia—she realized he wasn't in the parlor.

"Who are you looking for?" Alfred asked, when they were joined together for a moment.

"Lady Amelia, of course."

He seemed surprised by her response. "She makes friends so easily," he commented before they were separated by the dance and a new set of partners.

When the two came together again, Violet said, "Indeed she does. Makes friends easily, I mean. She has an ease about her that has me quite envious."

"You needn't be, Lady Violet. You share the trait, I assure you," he said.

Violet felt her face heat with a blush that wasn't due to the exertions of the dance. "Thank you, Your Grace. It's very kind of you to say."

Alfred seemed to lose his place in the dance, but before he attempted to resume the steps, the music ended.

He bowed, and Violet curtsied.

"Will you take a turn about the room with me?" he asked, offering his arm.

Violet placed her hand on his arm and said, "I will if you're on your way to the refreshments," she replied.

"Something to drink, yes," he said.

Meanwhile, in another room

"Where are they now?" Philip asked, his back pressed to the wall adjacent to a door. He had been careful to ensure he wasn't in the same room or visible from wherever Alfred, Duke of Weston, was in the Everly household.

"They've left the parlor. Looks like they're off to the refreshment table," Amelia said with a happy sigh. "It's terribly sporting of your sister to keep my brother occupied like this." She gave him an expectant glance.

He shook his head. "I didn't ask her to, if that's what you're thinking," Philip claimed.

She lifted a brow. "Neither did I," she whispered. "I certainly didn't expect he would still be here. He usually leaves after he's made a round or two."

Philip pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "I'll never tire of doing that," he whispered.

Grinning up at him, Amelia said, "I shall never tire of being kissed, but we're about to be discovered by the lady of the house."

Philip immediately offered his arm and escorted her out of the library, nodding as they passed by Stella, Countess of Everly. "You've a beautiful house, my lady," Philip remarked.

Stella beamed in delight. "I'm happy to share it for these sorts of occasions," she replied. Turning to Amelia, she added, "I wasn't aware your brother was such an admirer of tropical fish."

Amelia blinked. "Neither was I."

"Well, if Everly should ever have too many for the tank, perhaps Weston would be willing to start his own fishdom."

"Perhaps," Amelia agreed.

Philip and she watched the countess move onto another cluster of aristocrats before turning to regard one another in surprise. "Fish?" he whispered.

"I'll show you," she said, pulling him in the direction of the library. They ducked into the room at the same moment Alfred and Violet returned to the parlor and the dancing.

"I can't stay hidden from him all night," Philip said in a quiet voice.

"Nor should you," Amelia replied. "But I've been invited to play cards, so... here is where I'll leave you."

He looked about to be sure no one could see them from where they stood on the other side of the fish tank before he leaned down and stole a quick kiss. "I love you," he whispered. "Oh, and I nearly forgot to tell you. When I next see you, I may be in the company of my father. He's due in London any day now."

Inhaling softly, Amelia said, "I thought he didn't like London."

"He doesn't, but I think he's grown bored of the country since Mother's passing. And Violet isn't there to keep him company."

"I look forward to meeting him."

"I'm sure he's looking forward to meeting you," he replied, a finger brushing over her bare arm above her glove.

"Me?" Amelia's eyes narrowed.

"I told him about us. That I wish to marry you. I hope that was all right," Phillip whispered.

Amelia straightened and regarded him with a curious expression before she said, "Of course it was. I'll see you at the ball night after next." She dipped a quick curtsy before she headed off in the direction of the card parlor.

His attention going to the fish, Philip watched their chaotic movements for some time before deciding he'd had enough of avoiding Weston for the night. Ducking into the card parlor, he said his farewells to his aunt and took his leave of Rosemount House.

Meanwhile, in the study

"Is it really midnight?" Alfred asked, his attention on his chronometer. From another room, the sound of a clock's chimes could be heard.

"Indeed. Must you go so soon?" Violet made sure her query sounded of disappointment.

Alfred blinked. "Oh, I've stayed far longer than I planned," he replied. "I still have a letter I must complete this evening as well as a ledger to update."

She angled her head to one side. "Do you ever take time away from your study?"

Lifting a shoulder, he seemed to think on her question for a time before saying, "These days, rarely."

"Not even to ride your horse? Or to go for a walk?"

He scoffed softly. "I haven't been riding since I was on my Grand Tour," he said, the sound of lament evident in his voice. "And certainly not since my return to England."

Violet gave a start. "But you have a horse?"

His eyes rounded. "Oh, yes. An Irish walker, perfect for the park," he claimed.

Violet angled her head to one side as she displayed a smile. "I have one as well," she said happily. "I've had two opportunities to ride him since my arrival. I plan to go again the morning after next. I like to ride the day of balls. Helps put color in my cheeks," she said, waggling her brows in a teasing manner.

"As if all the dancing you'll do won't be enough?" he countered.

She tittered. "I'm still too new to have a full dance card," she said with a shrug. "Or anyone to ride with. At least one of the grooms comes along."

"What about Amelia...?"

Violet shook her head. "She has something on her calendar. A fitting for her gown, I think?" Her eyes rounded. "Perhaps you might join me? Surely you can take an hour out of your day to enjoy some fresh air. Give your walker some exercise. That is, if it's not raining."

Alfred stared at her for a moment before his brows furrowed. "Maybe for a half-hour? Which gate will you use to go into the park?"

"The Grosvenor Gate. I expect about ten o'clock," she replied.

After hesitating for a moment, he finally said, "I've an appointment with my solicitor at half-past eight that morning. In Oxford Street. So if I'm not there..." He winced. "Please don't take offense."

Violet displayed a smirk. "I wouldn't, of course. But if you can join me, I look forward to it."

Color suffused his face. "Thank you for dancing with me."

"Oh, it was my pleasure, Weston," she said, hoping her words sounded heartfelt. In reality, they were more close to the truth than she dared to admit to herself. "Will I see you at the ball night after next?"

Alfred seemed surprised by the query. "I'll make an appearance, of course," he replied. "I'm not sure how long I'll stay, though."

Feeling emboldened, Violet asked, "Shall I reserve a dance for you?"

He nodded. "Please do. I would be honored," he replied. He lifted her hand to his lips. "I should leave you in the company of the Duchess of Pendleton, should I not?"

"She's in the card parlor. I'll make my way there now," Violet said. "What of your sister and Her Grace?"

He blinked. "Oh, uh, our mother is still around here somewhere, I think. I'll send the carriage back 'round for them."

Violet nodded her understanding. "Well, then good night, Your Grace." She dipped a curtsy.

"Good night, my lady." He bowed deeply, brushing his lips over the back of her hand.

Violet watched him go, suppressing the urge to give him a teasing grin when she noted how he seemed to take one last look at her before a footman helped him with his greatcoat and hat.

A moment later, and he was gone.

Stunned at the odd sensation she felt just then, Violet remained where she was for a moment longer than necessary.

"You didn't have to afford my brother so much of your time this evening," Amelia said from her left. "It appears you played him perfectly."

Violet turned and gave a start. "Where have you been?" she asked in surprise. She leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek. "Your gown is gorgeous," she added, stepping back to admire the bell skirt.

"Thank you. And I was anywhere he wasn't," Amelia said, arching a dark brow.

"Amelia," Violet gently scolded. "Weston was very pleasant. He's far easier to talk to than I was expecting."

"That's because he didn't feel threatened by someone else," she said, her eyes rolling in disgust.

"You're far too harsh on your own brother." They stood watching the dancers for a moment before Violet added, "Speaking of brothers, what have you done with mine?"

Amelia tittered. "He took his leave a few minutes ago. He didn't want a scene should Alfred catch sight of him."

Violet scoffed. "Well, we shall just have to enjoy the rest of the evening without them," she said, hooking her elbow around Amelia's. "Cards? Or more champagne?"

Giggling in delight, Amelia said, "More champagne first, of course. Then let's play cards."

The two hurried off to the refreshment room.