Amelia Hillsborough flicked open her fan and plied it vigorously. Under cover of her voluminous skirts, she slipped her feet free of her evening slippers. She had forgot how stifling the small parties, held in the run-up to the Season proper, could be. Every bit as bad as the crushers later in the Season. But there, at least, she would have plenty of her own friends to gossip with. The mothers and chaperons of the current batch of débutantes were a generation removed from her own and at these small parties they were generally the only older members present. Marian Winford has elected to remain at Twyford House this evening, which left Amelia with little to do but watch her charges. And even that, she mused to herself, was not exactly riveting entertainment.
True, Felix was naturally absent, which meant her primary interest in the entire business
Satisfied that Margaret, like Emma and Maribella, needed no help from her, Lady Hillsborough moved her gaze on, scanning the room for Sophia’s dark head. When her first survey drew no result, she sat up straighter, a slight frown in her eyes. Daniel Hammington was here, somewhere, drat him. He had attended every party they had been to this week, a fact which of itself had already drawn comment. His attentions to Sophia were becoming increasingly marked. Amelia knee all the Hammingtons. She had known Daniel’s father and doubted not the truth of the ‘like father, like son’ adage. But surely Sophia was too sensible to... she wasted no time in completing that thought but started a careful, methodical and entirely well-disguised visual search. From her present position, on a slightly raised dais to one side, she commanded a view of the whole room. Her gaze pass
Clara, Lady Portland, thought Felix savagely, had no right to the title. He would grant she was attractive, in a blowsy sort of way, but her conduct left much to be desired. She had hailed him almost as soon as he had entered the Park. He rarely drove there except when expediency demanded. Consequently, her ladyship has been surprised to see his curricle, drawn by his famous match bays, advancing along the avenue. He had been forced to pull up or run the silly woman down. The considerable difficulty in conversing at any length with someone perched six feet and more above you, particularly when that someone displayed the most blatant uninterest, had not discouraged Lady Portland. She had done her best to prolong the exchange in the dim hope, Felix knew, of faking an invitation to ride beside him. She had finally admitted defeat and archly let him go, but not before issuing a thickly veiled invitation which he had had BJ compunction in declining. As she had been unwise en
“Not riding today?” asked Felix. “No. Lady Hillsborough felt we should not entirely desert the matrons.” Felix smiled. “True enough. It don’t do to put people’s backs up unnecessarily.” Margaret turned to stare at him. “Your philosophy?” Amelia had told her enough of her guardian’s past to realize this was unlikely. Felix frowned. Miss Margaret Fleming was a great deal too knowing. Unprepared to answer her query, he changed the subject. “Where’s Sophia?” “Lord D
Climbing the steps to Twyford House the next evening, Felix was still in two minds over whether he was doing the right thing. He was far too wise to be overly attentive to Margaret, yet if he did not make a push to engage her interest, she would shortly be the object of the attentions of a far larger circle of gentlemen, few of whom would hesitate to attend Almack’s purely because they disliked the mooned over by very young women. He hoped, in his capacity as their guardian, to confine his attentions to the Fleming sisters and so escape the usual jostle of matchmaking mamas. They should have learned by now that he was not likely to succumb to their daughters’ vapid charms. Still, he was not looking forward to the evening. If truth were told, he had been hearing about his wards on all sides for the past week. They had caught the fancy of the
Felix stayed by his wards until they were claimed for the first dance. His sharp eyes had seen a number of less than desirable gentlemen approach the sisters, only to veer away as they saw him. If nothing else, his presence had achieved that much. Searching through the crowd, he finally spotted Daniel Hammington disappearing into one of the salons where refreshments were laid out. "Going to give them the go-by for at least a week, huh?" he growled as he came up behind Lord Daniel. Daniel choked in the lemonade he had just drunk. Felix gazed in horror at the glass in his friend's hand. "No! Bless me, Daniel! You turned temperate?" Daniel grimaced. "Have to drink something and seemed like the best of a bad lot." His wave indicated the unexciting range of beverage available. "Thirsty work, getting a dance
Margaret was surprised that Felix had remained at the Assembly Rooms for so long. She lost sight of him for a while, and worked hard at forcing herself to pay attention to her suitors, for he was only to be expected heir guardian would seek less tame entertainment elsewhere. But then his tall figure reappeared at the side of the room. He seemed to be scanning the multitude, then, over a sea of heads, his eyes met hers. Margaret fervently hopes the peculiar shock which went through her was not reflected in her countenance. After a moment, unobtrusively, he made his way to her side. Under cover of the light flirtation she was engaged in with an ageing baronet, Margaret was conscious of the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat and the constriction that seemed to be affecting her breathing. Horrendously award if her guardian’s blue gaze, she felt her
Mesmerized, she has sufficient presence of mind to keep a gentle smile fixed firmly on her face but her thoughts were whirling even faster that her feet. With a superhuman effort, she forced her kids to drop, screening her eyes from his. "Oh, we Flemings have many accomplishments, dear guardian." To her relief, her voice was clear and untroubled. "But I'm desolated to have to admit that they're all hopelessly mundane." A rich chuckle greeted this. "Permit me to tell you, my ward, that for the skills I have in mind, your qualifications are more than adequate." Margaret's eyes flew to his. She could hardly believe her ears. But Felix continued before she could speak, his blue eyes holding hers, his voice a seductive murmur. "And while you naturally lack experience, I assure you that can easily, and most enjoyably, be remedied." It was too much. Margaret gave up the struggle to divine his motives and made
Maribella stifled a wistful sigh and smiled brightly at the earnest young man who was guiding her around the floor in yet another interminable waltz. It had taken only a few days of the Season proper for her to sort through her prospective suitors. And come to the unhappy conclusion that none matched her requirements. The lads were too young, the men too old. There seemed to be no one in between. Presumably many were away with Wellington’s forces, but surely there were those who could not leave the important business of keeping England running? And surely not all of them were old? She could not describe her ideal Amman, yet was sure she would instantly know when she met him. She was convinced she would feel it, like a thunderbolt from the blue. Yet no make of her acquaintance increase her heartbeat one iota. Keeping a steady and inconsequential c