time I saw her.” He gave her an affectionate peck upon her cheek.
Harriet noticed then that her brother was staring at her queerly. “Geoffrey, is something the matter?”
He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts “Oh, I’m sorry, miss, did you say something? I was just waiting for my sister to come down. Did you perhaps forget her upstairs?”
He grinned and Harriet took a playful swing at him with her new beaded reticule. “It is a bit of a masquerade, is it not?”
Geoffrey only shook his head, his tone no longer teasing. “Masquerade, no. One of the finest paintings in our father’s collection unveiled, yes.”
Harriet blushed beneath his compliment. “Does this mean I need never hear myself referred to as ‘Hattie Brattie’ again?”
Geoffrey laughed. “Some things, my dear sister, will never change. Even when you are wed with a gaggle of children squirming at your feet, you will always be my own sweet
Hattie Brattie
.”
Harriet wouldn’t have it any other way.
It was a fine night for February, the air crisp but not too cold, so rather than hire a coach, the foursome decided to walk the short distance down George Street to the Assembly Rooms. The stars winked overhead against the fullness of a winter’s moon as they made their way by the light of the gas lamps, a perfect night for Harriet’s first venture into society.
As they approached the pristine columned facade, lights from the tall windows facing the street cast wavering shadows of light on dark. Faint strains of music and the murmur of conversation spilled from the doors leading inside while coaches lined up at the front to let off their passengers.
After checking their cloaks, they made their way through a crowded hallway to the equally crowded assembly room beyond. Harriet faltered, feeling as if every pair of eyes in the room were suddenly trained upon them. Her hesitation, however, was soon put at ease when she spotted the colorful advancing kaleidoscope of Lady Lucinda Harrington bearing down on them from across the room.
“Oh, my dear, my dear! You came! I’m so delighted. And may I say you look positively stunning in that gown. Madame Angelique has outdone herself.” She glanced at the others. “And this must be your charming family?”
“Yes, my lady,” Harriet replied and quickly dispensed with the introductions.
Geoffrey soon made for the far corner where a group of young gentlemen had congregated near the drinks table. Harriet’s heart gave a jump when she spotted Tristan among them, looking resplendent in his suit of formal black. She wondered why he’d come to the assembly, if he would ask her to dance. She wondered if he would like her new gown.
They moved off into the crowded room and Lady Harrington began to introduce them to others of her acquaintance, an earl and even a duke among them. As they approached the entrance to the ballroom beyond, the baron’s attention was taken by a painting he spotted hanging in the upper gallery. He bid them to go on without him so he might take a closer look. Flanked by her aunt on one side and Lady Harrington on the other, Harriet officially made her entrance into society.
“My dear,” Lady Harrington whispered to her, “with any luck, there will be a goodly assortment of eligible young gentlemen present tonight, sons of some rather influential men. Thankfully, as your brother can attest, the lads have begun making their way back across the Channel and should be eager for the company of our young ladies.”
Harriet nodded, straightening her posture the way she’d been practicing in the mirror, and glided elegantly across the floor.
Lady Harrington gestured across the room. “That young man there by the potted palm is the eldest son of Lord Stanbridge, an earl. He’s set to inherit twenty thousand across as well as a substantial fortune in Argyllshire when he weds.” She nodded, eyes wide no doubt for effect.
Harriet studied the man from across the room. He
Harriet noticed then that her brother was staring at her queerly. “Geoffrey, is something the matter?”
He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts “Oh, I’m sorry, miss, did you say something? I was just waiting for my sister to come down. Did you perhaps forget her upstairs?”
He grinned and Harriet took a playful swing at him with her new beaded reticule. “It is a bit of a masquerade, is it not?”
Geoffrey only shook his head, his tone no longer teasing. “Masquerade, no. One of the finest paintings in our father’s collection unveiled, yes.”
Harriet blushed beneath his compliment. “Does this mean I need never hear myself referred to as ‘Hattie Brattie’ again?”
Geoffrey laughed. “Some things, my dear sister, will never change. Even when you are wed with a gaggle of children squirming at your feet, you will always be my own sweet
Hattie Brattie
.”
Harriet wouldn’t have it any other way.
It was a fine night for February, the air crisp but not too cold, so rather than hire a coach, the foursome decided to walk the short distance down George Street to the Assembly Rooms. The stars winked overhead against the fullness of a winter’s moon as they made their way by the light of the gas lamps, a perfect night for Harriet’s first venture into society.
As they approached the pristine columned facade, lights from the tall windows facing the street cast wavering shadows of light on dark. Faint strains of music and the murmur of conversation spilled from the doors leading inside while coaches lined up at the front to let off their passengers.
After checking their cloaks, they made their way through a crowded hallway to the equally crowded assembly room beyond. Harriet faltered, feeling as if every pair of eyes in the room were suddenly trained upon them. Her hesitation, however, was soon put at ease when she spotted the colorful advancing kaleidoscope of Lady Lucinda Harrington bearing down on them from across the room.
“Oh, my dear, my dear! You came! I’m so delighted. And may I say you look positively stunning in that gown. Madame Angelique has outdone herself.” She glanced at the others. “And this must be your charming family?”
“Yes, my lady,” Harriet replied and quickly dispensed with the introductions.
Geoffrey soon made for the far corner where a group of young gentlemen had congregated near the drinks table. Harriet’s heart gave a jump when she spotted Tristan among them, looking resplendent in his suit of formal black. She wondered why he’d come to the assembly, if he would ask her to dance. She wondered if he would like her new gown.
They moved off into the crowded room and Lady Harrington began to introduce them to others of her acquaintance, an earl and even a duke among them. As they approached the entrance to the ballroom beyond, the baron’s attention was taken by a painting he spotted hanging in the upper gallery. He bid them to go on without him so he might take a closer look. Flanked by her aunt on one side and Lady Harrington on the other, Harriet officially made her entrance into society.
“My dear,” Lady Harrington whispered to her, “with any luck, there will be a goodly assortment of eligible young gentlemen present tonight, sons of some rather influential men. Thankfully, as your brother can attest, the lads have begun making their way back across the Channel and should be eager for the company of our young ladies.”
Harriet nodded, straightening her posture the way she’d been practicing in the mirror, and glided elegantly across the floor.
Lady Harrington gestured across the room. “That young man there by the potted palm is the eldest son of Lord Stanbridge, an earl. He’s set to inherit twenty thousand across as well as a substantial fortune in Argyllshire when he weds.” She nodded, eyes wide no doubt for effect.
Harriet studied the man from across the room. He
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