his most dignified front, opened the door and assisted in relieving the gentlemen of their outer wear. The viscount thanked him and turned away. Then he caught sight of Antonia Fairfax descending the staircase into the hall, and his breath stopped in his throat.
She was wearing a gown of a deep rose muslin, and her hair was tied simply with a velvet ribbon of the same shade. She came toward her guests with her hands outstretched, a smile on her lips, and a marked twinkle in her eyes.
“Uncle Philip!” she said, passing smoothly over the bemused viscount. “How prodigious elegant you look this evening.”
Uncle Philip received a hug and a kiss that made him the envy of his companions, and introduced Mr Gary, who bowed and politely thanked his hostess for allowing him to intrude on the party. Antonia blithely assured him that his presence made the numbers just right and, intrigued by this quiet young man with the gentle eyes, would have gone on to draw him out a bit more, had not Lord Kedrington just at that moment coughed loudly. She looked to him, her brows in alt.
“Why, Lord Kedrington, is it not?” she said sweetly. “How obliging of you to come, sir.”
“Obliging of you to ask me, Miss Fairfax,” he responded with com mendable calm.
She had to laugh at that. “I regret that my sister-in-law is indisposed and will not be joining us,” she said, putting one hand into Mr Kenyon’s and laying the other lightly on Mr Gary’s arm. “But will you come in and meet my niece?”
Lord Kedrington followed meekly behind as she led the two gentlemen into the parlour. Miss Fairfax began to put a question to Mr Gary, but just at that moment Mr Gary forgot his manners and started involuntar ily forward, becoming oblivious to his hostess the instant he set eyes on Isabel, who was seated on a sofa with Mrs Curtiz, a piece of needlepoint she had been working on her lap. She had left off her spectacles, which gave her face even more of an open, ingenuous look than it usually wore, and her hair was worked into an intricate knot on the top of her head. Her simple gown was nearly new—it having until now been relegated to a trunk as too frivolous for daily wear—and its pale blue colour emphasised her large, luminous eyes. When she raised them and caught Mr Gary’s stare, she blushed in confusion—thus completing Octavian’s fall from grace.
Antonia, fascinated by this rent in Isabel’s normally unruffled composure, glanced from the young lady to the young gentleman and back again consideringly.
“Fickle!” said Kedrington, shaking his head and moving up to take the place next to Antonia which had been vacated by Octavian. Antonia disregarded this manoeuvre and, rapidly thinking how to make use of the unexpected Mr Gary, made Mrs Curtiz and her niece known to Lord Kedrington; said she believed they were too well acquainted with Mr Kenyon to need to be reminded of it; and, at last, presented Isabel and Mr Gary to each other in the most offhand way possible, upon which Mr Gary snapped out of his trance and made a civil bow. Isabel, however, returned only a stiff nod before turning back to her godfather. Antonia felt a distinct itch to box her ears. Apparently, Isabel was losing no time in her scheme to marry a fortune, and a mere secretary—no matter how handsome or personable he might be—had no part in it. Antonia wondered if the foolish child would attempt to insinuate herself with the viscount instead!
But Mrs Curtiz, dressed in a reassuringly orthodox gown of green watered silk, had claimed the viscount’s attention, holding her hand out to him and saying briskly, “We must treat one another as old friends, you know! I was acquainted with your father when you were still a schoolboy.”
Kedrington gave her an understanding look. “Indeed! I trust we may become better friends because of it.” She took his meaning, accepted his smile, and went on to enquire more easily after the rest of his family.
It was
She was wearing a gown of a deep rose muslin, and her hair was tied simply with a velvet ribbon of the same shade. She came toward her guests with her hands outstretched, a smile on her lips, and a marked twinkle in her eyes.
“Uncle Philip!” she said, passing smoothly over the bemused viscount. “How prodigious elegant you look this evening.”
Uncle Philip received a hug and a kiss that made him the envy of his companions, and introduced Mr Gary, who bowed and politely thanked his hostess for allowing him to intrude on the party. Antonia blithely assured him that his presence made the numbers just right and, intrigued by this quiet young man with the gentle eyes, would have gone on to draw him out a bit more, had not Lord Kedrington just at that moment coughed loudly. She looked to him, her brows in alt.
“Why, Lord Kedrington, is it not?” she said sweetly. “How obliging of you to come, sir.”
“Obliging of you to ask me, Miss Fairfax,” he responded with com mendable calm.
She had to laugh at that. “I regret that my sister-in-law is indisposed and will not be joining us,” she said, putting one hand into Mr Kenyon’s and laying the other lightly on Mr Gary’s arm. “But will you come in and meet my niece?”
Lord Kedrington followed meekly behind as she led the two gentlemen into the parlour. Miss Fairfax began to put a question to Mr Gary, but just at that moment Mr Gary forgot his manners and started involuntar ily forward, becoming oblivious to his hostess the instant he set eyes on Isabel, who was seated on a sofa with Mrs Curtiz, a piece of needlepoint she had been working on her lap. She had left off her spectacles, which gave her face even more of an open, ingenuous look than it usually wore, and her hair was worked into an intricate knot on the top of her head. Her simple gown was nearly new—it having until now been relegated to a trunk as too frivolous for daily wear—and its pale blue colour emphasised her large, luminous eyes. When she raised them and caught Mr Gary’s stare, she blushed in confusion—thus completing Octavian’s fall from grace.
Antonia, fascinated by this rent in Isabel’s normally unruffled composure, glanced from the young lady to the young gentleman and back again consideringly.
“Fickle!” said Kedrington, shaking his head and moving up to take the place next to Antonia which had been vacated by Octavian. Antonia disregarded this manoeuvre and, rapidly thinking how to make use of the unexpected Mr Gary, made Mrs Curtiz and her niece known to Lord Kedrington; said she believed they were too well acquainted with Mr Kenyon to need to be reminded of it; and, at last, presented Isabel and Mr Gary to each other in the most offhand way possible, upon which Mr Gary snapped out of his trance and made a civil bow. Isabel, however, returned only a stiff nod before turning back to her godfather. Antonia felt a distinct itch to box her ears. Apparently, Isabel was losing no time in her scheme to marry a fortune, and a mere secretary—no matter how handsome or personable he might be—had no part in it. Antonia wondered if the foolish child would attempt to insinuate herself with the viscount instead!
But Mrs Curtiz, dressed in a reassuringly orthodox gown of green watered silk, had claimed the viscount’s attention, holding her hand out to him and saying briskly, “We must treat one another as old friends, you know! I was acquainted with your father when you were still a schoolboy.”
Kedrington gave her an understanding look. “Indeed! I trust we may become better friends because of it.” She took his meaning, accepted his smile, and went on to enquire more easily after the rest of his family.
It was
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