She arched a brow. “Flattery so early in the day? My, you must want something.”
“I want peace,” he said smoothly. “And since you insist upon hosting every eligible lady within twenty miles, I came to suffer for your happiness.”
Her eyes narrowed, though amusement flickered in their depths. “Wretched boy. You know very well I am delighted to see you. I half-expected you would find some excuse to avoid this gathering.”
He smiled, surveying the bustling garden. “It appears I was right to worry. You’ve gathered half of the ton’s unmarried daughters here.”
She gave a dismissive wave. “Nonsense. You exaggerate. There are only fourteen ladies here, with their chaperones. Though…”—her voice softened—“four of them are the young women I mentioned in my letter. You should take care to speak with each. They are accomplished, well-bred, and suitable.”
He inclined his head. “If it pleases you, Mother.”
“Good.” She beamed. “I shall have the footmen fetch you a plate. There’s champagne by the oak and enough pastries to tempt a saint.”
As she swept away to greet another guest, Sebastian took a long breath and glanced about. The garden was a tapestry of color and movement—ladies in gauzy muslins and pastel silks, a few gentlemen in light coats and gleaming boots, laughter mingling with the tinkling strains of a harp set near the fountain. He caught sight of Elizabeth and Vivian again. They were playingbattledore and shuttlecockwith a few other ladies, their bright ribbons fluttering in the breeze.
Elizabeth’s graceful poise contrasted sharply with Vivian’s spirited enthusiasm, though both appeared carefree. A pang of something—relief, perhaps—coursed through him. Whatever Maryann’s fears had been about her sisters’ treatment under his mother’s care, they seemed unfounded.
A flash of pink caught his eye—Lady Eugenia Carroway, one of the names from his mother’s list. She approached with practiced ease, her dark curls arranged artfully beneath a bonnet trimmed with silk roses.
“Viscount Ranford,” she greeted sweetly, curtsying. “What a pleasure. Lady Hardwick was lamenting that you might not come.”
He bowed slightly. “And deprive my mother of that joy? Impossible.”
She giggled, fluttering her fan. “You are precisely as charming as I was told.”
“That sounds like a dangerous accusation,” he murmured, offering his arm. “Will you walk with me, Lady Eugenia?”
She accepted, and together they strolled toward the rose garden. The conversation flowed easily enough—talk of London’s latest scandals, the fashions from Paris, and a ball she had attended in Mayfair. She was lovely, poised, everything his mother could want for him. Yet after ten minutes, he could hardly recall a single thing she had said. His mind drifted instead to the image of Maryann’s laughter, soft and genuine, and the intent way she concentrated when doing a task.
After escorting Lady Eugenia to the refreshment table, he found himself cornered by Lady Annabelle and Miss Cordelia Pratt. Both were striking in their way—Annabelle fair and confident, Cordelia dark-haired and reserved. They engaged him in polite discussion about art, architecture, and theweather. When Lady Annabelle asked about his current project, he brightened slightly. “I’m overseeing restorations at my Hertfordshire estate,” he said. “The manor is in dreadful shape, but it will be magnificent again soon.”
“How industrious,” Lady Annabelle purred. “A man of refinement and labor. Quite rare in our circles.”
He gave a dry smile. “A necessary diversion. It keeps my hands busy and my mind from idleness.”
“Then perhaps we shall see it when it is completed,” Lady Cordelia offered shyly.
“I should be honored,” he said with an incline of his head, though the words felt oddly hollow.
He conversed with the ladies, and then enjoyed a round ofpall-mallwith the gentlemen—winning, though he hardly paid attention—and joined a small group of ladies afterward for tea and idle talk of novels and poetry. Everywhere he turned, he was met with smiles, soft laughter, and admiration. And yet, none of it stirred him. His mother, watching from across the lawn, lifted her brows meaningfully. He offered her a faint smile of reassurance, but she needn’t have worried. He would play his part, though his heart was far from it.
As the sun began to dip low, painting the horizon with streaks of amber and rose, Sebastian excused himself from another round of polite conversation and wandered toward the edge of the garden.
In the distance, he saw Vivian perched on a bench, Elizabeth beside her, listening as one of the young men animatedly spoke.
Maryann should have been here.
He could almost hear her laugh, see her turn of head, the soft way she frowned when in thought. The memory was maddeningly vivid. He exhaled sharply and rubbed a hand over his jaw. Another reason he had left the manor and attended the party was to distract himself, to drown the ache she stirred inhim. But it was useless. Her absence filled every moment, every idle breath. The scent of roses and sun-warmed grass followed him, mingling with the faint memory of whisky and the taste of Maryann’s lips.
Sebastian moved away from the main party and found his mother near the rose arbour, surrounded by a cluster of ladies vying for her attention. When she spotted him, she excused herself with an indulgent smile and came forward.
“Sebastian,” she said warmly, though her sharp eyes missed nothing. “It did not seem as if you enjoyed speaking with the ladies.”
He bent and kissed her cheek. “I suffered for your happiness, Mother. Am I not a good son? I will admit that they were all pleasant, charming, and intelligent.”
Her lips twitched, torn between annoyance and delight. He smiled faintly, but his gaze was already drifting across the lawns, searching until he found two familiar figures in the distance. “Elizabeth and Vivian look well,” he said. “You have done much for them.”
“They are lovely girls,” she replied. “Quick learners and possessed of pleasing manners. I daresay they shall make splendid matches when the time comes. In fact,” she added with a note of satisfaction, “young Baron Richardson has already shown interest in courting Elizabeth.”
