“We were escaping Lord Smellington and Lady Serafina.”
“Hmm.” Merry studied her as they descended the stairs to the main hall. “That excuse is hard to counter.” She shuddered. “I do believe that man reeks worse than he did last Season.”
“I am sure he hasn’t bathed since last Season.” Fortuity slowed their pace as they neared the parlor. “Matthew says the man believes that bathing causes illness.”
“I thought only Scots felt that way?”
“I believe that was long ago. Remember Lord MacKenzie? Even when he was ancient, that man smelled so divine, all the ladies flocked around him.”
Merry halted. “Surely you are not that naïve? While I agree the man had an irresistible aroma that even I noticed as a child whenever he visited Mama and Papa, I overheard Serendipity whisper more than once that it was hischarmthat drew the ladies to him.”
“Hischarm?” Fortuity couldn’t decide if Merry meant the way the beguiling old Scot always treated the ladies, some magical gift, or a forbidden carnal talent.
“The man fathered twenty-seven children, Fortuity. The last one was born the year he died at the ripe old age of four and eighty.” Merry leaned closer and lowered her voice. “And every woman he married was a great deal younger and always happy to become his wife and remain that way.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I never divulge my sources.”
Fortuity rolled her eyes. “You sound like Serendipity.” She nodded at the closed parlor door. “You go first.”
“Coward,” her sister accused with affection, then charged forward and threw open the door. “All right, brother. We are here. Commence with the inquisition.”
“Really, Merry?” Chance shot her a withering glare.
Fortuity took a seat between Serendipity and Grace. Old habits died hard. They always arranged themselves in birth order. Joy sat on the other side of Grace, Felicity next, and Merry took her seat at the end. “As Merry so eloquently put it, commence with the inquisition, brother,” Fortuity said. She was in no mood for what would surely be as humiliatingly painful as last night.
“How are you today?” he asked, the tensed line of his jaw softening.
“I am well. You?”
He scrubbed his forehead and groaned. “I am not the one who appeared to be the subject of the masked ball last night. Nor was I selfishly used to escape debutantes, then cast aside like a useless bit of parchment. I intend to have a word with Ravenglass. Friend or not, I do not appreciate his casual treatment of you, especially when it brings ridicule down around your ears.”
“I used him just the same to escape Lord Smellington. Matthew did nothing wrong. He simply stated the truth. We are friends, nothing more.”Nor will we ever be anything more,she silently added. She rubbed her temple in a vain attempt at ridding herself of the subtle pounding that was getting stronger by the moment. That was just what she needed today, one of her terrible megrims. “Lady Serafina goaded him into raising his voice. You know he would do nothing to hurt us or cause us embarrassment.”
“And yet he did.” Serendipity reached over and gave her hand a sisterly squeeze. “Why do you not speak to him about thisfriendshipof yours?”
“Am I the only one who remembers what Thorne told us?” Fortuity pulled her hand away, frustrated with this painful subject. “Have I not been humiliated enough? Why would I confront the man and force him to tell me he would never want me as his wife because he has sworn he will never marry? I daresay that would do wonders for our friendship.”
“Hisincidentwas over five years ago,” Chance said. “Perhaps he has reconsidered.”
“I would rather have him as a friend than confront him and lose him completely.” And that was the bloody awfulness of it all. She heard Mama’s voice in her head, scolding her for using such unacceptable language even in her thoughts. She pulled in a deep breath and forced herself to maintain control. “Mightwe move on? I was not the only plump little Broadmere goose hanging in the butcher shop window at last night’s ball.”
“I did not go to the stables nor visit Lady Atterley’s hounds,” Grace said, lifting her hands in surrender.
“No, you hid most of the night,” Serendipity accused. “I only found you when you emerged from the jungle of the conservatory to fetch yourself a lemonade.”
“Poor planning on my part,” Grace grumbled. She tipped her head down the line at Joy and Felicity. “These two were no better.”
“I fattened my purse at a rollicking game of Commerce,” Joy said, “and I am not ashamed to admit it.”
Felicity twitched a shrug. “I simply had to discover how Lady Atterley’s cook obtained such a lightness to her Naples biscuits.”
Merry pointed at Grace. “I hurried after Gracie when I saw Lord Smellington on the prowl.”
Chance groaned again. “LordPellington,” he corrected her. “If all of you insist on calling the man names, at some point, one of you will surely err and do so in public. Need I remind you how inappropriate such behavior is for a Broadmere lady?”
“Your Grace?” drawled a deep, raspy voice from the doorway.
