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Regarding my bargain, I found myself in even deeper trouble at a night of card games than I ever had before at any ball. The requests to partner in a game of whist were endless and I was the fortunate lady who said yes to every single one.
Aunt Georgina was in her element, floating from table to table or holding court on the sofa near the refreshment table. When I first arrived and greeted her, she noticed my necklace right away and a suspicious sheen glazed her eye. We shared a brief hug and I promised to introduce my friends to her the moment they arrived.
Which, presently, was impossible.
I had played four rounds of whist with four different partners, was currently in a game partnering Mr. Fenway, with his obnoxiously flirtatious glances, and had Lord McGregor lined up next. Lord McGregor was the final man on my list for the time being. Rosalynn had yet to arrive, but Freya was busy making rounds with her mother. Aunt Georgina did not seem to be forlornly awaiting my introductions, however, so I tried to remain calm.
“Do you have a love for cards, Miss Cox?”
I glanced to my right, where Cecily sat daintily, her partner, Lord McGregor, focusing on playing his turn.
“I find it entertaining.”
She innocently tilted her head. “Though not, perhaps, with much time to devote to the craft?”
I connected the dots slower than I was proud of. She was trying to tactfully say I was horrible at cards. Well, when distracted like I unfortunately had been that evening, it was only natural I was losing so terribly.
We continued to play, Mr. Fenway very kind about my horrid choices and obvious lack of attention. When Lord McGregor and Cecily won by a landslide, the men switched chairs, thus switching partners.
I shot Lord McGregor a commiserating look. “I apologize, sir. It is certainly not my lucky night.”
“Ah, but I can honestly say it is mine,” he graciously replied. “What other man can boast two such lovely partners back to back?”
Cecily and I both looked at Mr. Fenway.
“Besides Mr. Fenway, naturally,” Lord McGregor said with a grin. He shuffled and dealt our cards, and we got ourselves off to a decent beginning.
“You have not seen Rosalynn yet this evening, have you?” I asked.
Lord McGregor glanced up from his cards, his brows pulling together slightly. “I was unaware she intended to come.”
I had not thought of that potential. Perhaps she had changed her mind. I focused on my hand of cards, trying to show Cecily I was not generally as hopeless at whist as I had so far proved.
I caught Freya’s eye as she sat on the sofa near Aunt Georgina and she gave me a tentative smile. I returned it with much more enthusiasm, glad to know that she, at least, was not angry with me.
We nearly won the round, but Mr. Fenway and Cecily pulled ahead by a few points. Before either of the gentlemen could be polite and offer another round—to which I would’ve been forced to accept—I stood from my chair. Both gentlemen hastily followed my lead. “Thank you for your company. I must greet my aunt.”
I crossed the room, aware of the extra eyes that followed me. I had anticipated some praise for this particularly exquisite gown, but nothing to what I was receiving. It was disconcerting to say the least.
“Your gown,” Freya gushed when I approached. “I vow, it is the loveliest I have seen this Season.”
“It is not a ball gown,” I said. “There have been far superior gowns. It is only difficult to recall them at present.”
She looked ready to argue but I cut her off as we approached her mother. “Mrs. Hurst, how lovely to see you. Have you met my aunt?”
“Yes, yes. I know Miss Stuart,” she said.
I’d never heard her called by anything other than “Aunt Georgina” before, and the “Miss Stuart” did not fit her regal white hair or bright, intelligent gaze in my eyes.
“I haven’t yet,” Freya said excitedly.
I reached for her hand. “Then allow me to do the honors.”
We stepped over to the corner where a few older women were gathered near Aunt Georgina. They scattered slightly when we approached, much like hens.
“Aunt, allow me to introduce my dear friend, Miss Freya Hurst.”
Freya curtseyed most becomingly under Aunt Georgina’s watchful eye. She stood tall and welcomed the appraisal, a grin stretching her lips and revealing her straight, clean teeth.
A single nod indicated the end of the evaluation. “Pretty thing,” Aunt Georgina said decisively. “And you are doing well this Season?”
A blush pinked Freya’s cheeks and she darted a glance at me briefly before looking away. “I do well enough,” she said finally.
“Shall I fetch you a refreshment?” I asked Aunt Georgina.
“Yes. Lemonade, please.”
Perhaps leaving the two of them alone was not my finest moment. But it was a quick trip—the footman immediately handed me a glass of lemonade when I approached—and I was back in minutes, startled to find Aunt Georgina and Freya in deep conversation.
“I may never have a dog, for Mama is deathly allergic, but if I did, I vow I would want one just like Coco.”
Had she relayed the story of Coco’s discovery in the park? I tamped down the pain that shot through me. “Actually,” I said, clearing my throat. “I must find another home for her. Father has forbidden me from having a dog.”
Aunt Georgina looked dumbfounded; Freya was shocked.
“Whatever for?”
I shrugged. “It is not for me to know. Nor is it for me to ask questions. I shall have to simply hope I will find a good solution in the morning. I have until noon.”
“Oh, child,” Aunt Georgina said. “What a horrid thing. You must bring her here.”
“You cannot want a little terrier, Aunt. She is sweet but has her fair share of energy.”
Aunt Georgina preened. “Then perhaps a little will rub off on me. It is decided, she will come here for the time being.”
I dared not hope what that could imply. She could mean it was an acceptable arrangement for a few days. Or she could mean it was appropriate until the end of the Season when I would earn my independence.
I would not ask her to clarify now. Better to let her fall in love with Coco before I beg to impose long term. “Very well. Thank you.”
She waved a hand nonchalantly. “It is nothing. I employ far too many servants, anyway. Best give them something to do.”
Freya shot me an amused glance and I returned it, freezing when I caught a pair of deep brown eyes on the far side of the room: Rosalynn. My heart quickened when I noticed the man escorting her, his perfectly messy hair and discerning gaze sweeping the room. I turned abruptly, pushing away the feelings I did not want to own up to.
It was unfair, really, how the heart seemed to have a mind of its own.
“Freya,” I said, hoping to guard the nerves in my voice. “Rosie is here.”
She spun on her heel, her hopeful eyes seeking out our friend. It had to be a good sign that Rosalynn showed up at all. I was going to hold onto that thought as long as I was able.
She turned worried eyes on me. “Should we approach her?”
“Yes,” Aunt Georgina said, startling both of us. “I do not pretend to follow what is happening here. But if she is the other woman you promised to introduce me to, Elspeth, then you best bring her here.”
“Yes, Aunt.”
I crossed the room slowly, in control, Freya by my side. Rosalynn stood near the door, speaking with her brother and Lord McGregor, who had reached them before we did.
“You must partner me,” he was saying. “I should like to show off, and with you, there is no other course.”
Rosalynn’s lips formed a pretty grin. “Because I am superior at all card games?”
“Because you are particularly talented at whist.”
She glanced to me briefly and then opened her mouth to respond when I stepped forward. “My aunt should like to meet you first, if you have a moment.” I hoped such a request could not go ignored. Particularly as she was the hostess.
Rosalynn speared me with a look so full of varying emotions that I could not decipher what she was feeling. I simply was grateful when she nodded. “Forgive me,” she said, turning to Lord McGregor. “Perhaps you could save me a game.”
He bowed. “Of course.”
She stepped between her brother and Lord McGregor, much the regal queen, and followed me toward my aunt. I was surprised to see Lord Cameron close beside her when I turned to make the introductions, but I hoped it was not apparent in my face.
Aunt Georgina nodded at Rosalynn’s curtsey and winked at Lord Cameron’s bow. My jaw dropped at her forward behavior, but upon noticing her twinkle and his amusement I tried not to be so thoroughly shocked. That was perhaps one of the benefits of being an eccentric older woman: one could be as brazen as she pleased.
“And you have known each other quite some time, I am told,” Aunt Georgina said, indicating all of us.
“We were at school together,” Freya supplied. “I am fortunate to have gained an instant connection with the both of them.”
“Fortunate, indeed.” Taking a sip of her lemonade, Aunt Georgina smacked her lips and placed the glass on the small table beside her armchair. “Well, you simply must come here often. I love to have visitors, and the dog will grow sorrowful, I am sure, without a thorough petting every so often.”
Rosalynn exchanged glances with Lord Cameron. He gave her a brief shrug.
I said, “She is referring to Coco.”
“Whatever for?” Rosalynn asked.
“She has been evicted,” Freya replied.
“Elsie?” Lord Cameron expostulated, his eyes wide as saucers.
“No.” I tried not to be offended. “I am not homeless, only Coco. Father has told me I must find a new home for her, and Aunt Georgina has graciously offered to provide one. I am eternally grateful.”
“It is nothing,” Aunt Georgina said. “Now I find myself interested in playing a hand of whist.” Her eye was fixed on Lord Cameron, and he obliged her. “I hate to leave you here, but there seems to be a place opening just over there. It was lovely to meet you, and welcome to my home.”
She walked away on his arm and I turned toward Rosalynn, hoping to find grace within her countenance.
Instead, I found delight.
“Your aunt is lovely,” she said, Freya nodding agreement.
“I knew you’d both love her. She is extraordinary, to be sure. Quite the epitome of doing what she wishes and saying what she will. I believe she does not care a whit for what others may think or say of her.”
If only I could be so brave.
Silence reigned for a moment, none of us knowing quite the right thing to say. The conversation earlier in my bedchamber could not be undone, and the things that were said were now laid out before us. I did not feel the need to defend my actions, for I did not feel I had done anything wrong. Freya, on the other hand, looked exceedingly sorrowful.
She stepped forward and placed her hand under Rosalynn’s elbow. “Forgive me? I have let myself get wrapped up in the glamour of the Season and I fear I let my priorities get away from me.”
“I am not your mother,” Rosalynn said slowly, not unkindly. “It is not for me to say how you should live your life. I was bothered by other things and said more than I should have. I vented my anger on you both, and neither of you deserved my censure. Let us put it behind us and move forward with respect and support as we have done in the past.”
Freya and I stood in stunned silence. That was not the reprimanding I had come to expect from Rosie, nor was it the guilt she could have heaped upon us. It was humble, and it was the truth.
I pulled her into a brief embrace, aware of our setting and the many watchful eyes. I spotted an open sofa a few paces away and pulled them both toward it, seating ourselves against the wall where we might talk at our leisure.
“I believe,” Freya began quiet but steadily, “if I have the both of you by my side, I may very well accomplish anything.”