Renbourne, Miss Newbold. I’m simply delighted to see you here tonight. This must be the rest of your family?”
“Good evening, Lady Louisa, Lord Glyndon.” Amy’s voice and smile were equally bright. “Indeed, it is.” She undertook the introductions without further ado. Lady Louisa’s pale blue gaze passed over Mrs. Newbold and Aurelia with only cursory interest, though Lord Glyndon clasped Trevenan’s hand and punctiliously bowed over each lady’s.
He seemed to linger a moment longer over Amy’s, and Aurelia wondered if he was ruing his bargain. Lady Louisa was fair-haired and fine-boned in the typical English fashion, but to Aurelia’s admittedly biased eye, she hadn’t so much as a spark of Amy’s charm or vitality.
“I simply adore the works of Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan,” Lady Louisa declared. She gave Lord Glyndon’s arm an unmistakably proprietary squeeze. “And seeing this one has convinced me: we simply must go to Venice on our wedding trip!”
“A delightful notion,” Amy replied with just the right amount of polite interest. “Allow me to congratulate you on your engagement. Have you set a date yet?”
Lady Louisa simpered; there was no other word for it, Aurelia decided. “June is the best month, of course, but we’re considering July and August too. And at St. George’s, Hanover Square, naturally.” She tightened her grip on Lord Glyndon’s arm; Aurelia thought she saw a flicker of annoyance in the viscount’s eyes. “But what of you, Miss Newbold? Have you made any plans for your big day?”
“Oh, Lord Trevenan and I are still discussing the details,” Amy said airily.
“Of which there are many,” the earl interposed with equal smoothness. “But my intended can rely upon my indulgence in whatever she decides, from the church to our wedding trip.”
Well said , Aurelia thought as Amy smiled up at Lord Trevenan; her mother and Aunt Caroline regarded him with approval as well.
Lady Louisa seemed slightly flummoxed by their solidarity, perhaps because it provided such a contrast to Lord Glyndon’s sullen silence. “How charming,” she began, then broke off to exclaim, “Oh, look—there are the Elliots! I simply must go and give them my regards.”
“Yes, you simply must,” Amy agreed dulcetly. Aurelia hid a smile behind her fan.
Impervious to irony, Lady Louisa excused herself and departed, towing her fiancé in her wake like a tugboat pulling a recalcitrant barge. Aurelia darted a glance at her twin, who was still sporting a bright, fixed smile. Not for the first time, she wondered just what had passed between Amy and Lord Glyndon. If the viscount had led her sister on, when he’d no honorable intentions…A gust of protective love swept through her as she remembered the coolness that had greeted them on their debuts in New York society. Insulated by her love for Charlie, Aurelia had not cared as much, but Amy had felt the slights and snubs almost as keenly as their mother. How intolerable for her to encounter the same treatment in England!
“My dear, are you well?” Lord Trevenan asked. Aurelia’s throat tightened at the warmth and solicitude in his voice; how he must adore her sister.
Amy turned to him in evident relief. “Perfectly well, my lord. Shall we return to our seats? The interval must be nearly over by now.”
“Of course.” He proffered his arm and she took it, smiling more brilliantly than ever.
They made such a striking pair, Aurelia thought wistfully as she followed them back into the theater: Lord Trevenan so darkly handsome, her twin so radiantly fair. And she herself had cause to know that he was as kind as he was handsome, easily worth a dozen of Lord Glyndon. And wasn’t that what she wanted for Amy: a good man, an estimable man, who would value and cherish her? And his title, albeit the least of his attractions as far as Aurelia was concerned, would certainly provide all the social cachet her sister could desire.
Mastering the
“Good evening, Lady Louisa, Lord Glyndon.” Amy’s voice and smile were equally bright. “Indeed, it is.” She undertook the introductions without further ado. Lady Louisa’s pale blue gaze passed over Mrs. Newbold and Aurelia with only cursory interest, though Lord Glyndon clasped Trevenan’s hand and punctiliously bowed over each lady’s.
He seemed to linger a moment longer over Amy’s, and Aurelia wondered if he was ruing his bargain. Lady Louisa was fair-haired and fine-boned in the typical English fashion, but to Aurelia’s admittedly biased eye, she hadn’t so much as a spark of Amy’s charm or vitality.
“I simply adore the works of Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan,” Lady Louisa declared. She gave Lord Glyndon’s arm an unmistakably proprietary squeeze. “And seeing this one has convinced me: we simply must go to Venice on our wedding trip!”
“A delightful notion,” Amy replied with just the right amount of polite interest. “Allow me to congratulate you on your engagement. Have you set a date yet?”
Lady Louisa simpered; there was no other word for it, Aurelia decided. “June is the best month, of course, but we’re considering July and August too. And at St. George’s, Hanover Square, naturally.” She tightened her grip on Lord Glyndon’s arm; Aurelia thought she saw a flicker of annoyance in the viscount’s eyes. “But what of you, Miss Newbold? Have you made any plans for your big day?”
“Oh, Lord Trevenan and I are still discussing the details,” Amy said airily.
“Of which there are many,” the earl interposed with equal smoothness. “But my intended can rely upon my indulgence in whatever she decides, from the church to our wedding trip.”
Well said , Aurelia thought as Amy smiled up at Lord Trevenan; her mother and Aunt Caroline regarded him with approval as well.
Lady Louisa seemed slightly flummoxed by their solidarity, perhaps because it provided such a contrast to Lord Glyndon’s sullen silence. “How charming,” she began, then broke off to exclaim, “Oh, look—there are the Elliots! I simply must go and give them my regards.”
“Yes, you simply must,” Amy agreed dulcetly. Aurelia hid a smile behind her fan.
Impervious to irony, Lady Louisa excused herself and departed, towing her fiancé in her wake like a tugboat pulling a recalcitrant barge. Aurelia darted a glance at her twin, who was still sporting a bright, fixed smile. Not for the first time, she wondered just what had passed between Amy and Lord Glyndon. If the viscount had led her sister on, when he’d no honorable intentions…A gust of protective love swept through her as she remembered the coolness that had greeted them on their debuts in New York society. Insulated by her love for Charlie, Aurelia had not cared as much, but Amy had felt the slights and snubs almost as keenly as their mother. How intolerable for her to encounter the same treatment in England!
“My dear, are you well?” Lord Trevenan asked. Aurelia’s throat tightened at the warmth and solicitude in his voice; how he must adore her sister.
Amy turned to him in evident relief. “Perfectly well, my lord. Shall we return to our seats? The interval must be nearly over by now.”
“Of course.” He proffered his arm and she took it, smiling more brilliantly than ever.
They made such a striking pair, Aurelia thought wistfully as she followed them back into the theater: Lord Trevenan so darkly handsome, her twin so radiantly fair. And she herself had cause to know that he was as kind as he was handsome, easily worth a dozen of Lord Glyndon. And wasn’t that what she wanted for Amy: a good man, an estimable man, who would value and cherish her? And his title, albeit the least of his attractions as far as Aurelia was concerned, would certainly provide all the social cachet her sister could desire.
Mastering the
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