He laughed softly as he pulled her closer to him to kiss her head.
“James! Please, you will disturb all of Sarah’s efforts to tame my hair.”
“Be careful what you say, madam. I may take that as a challenge.” He reached up as if he would pluck a hairpin from her hair.
Cecilia pulled back. “James, no!”
He dropped his hand to her shoulder and squeezed her against him. “Sometimes it is fun to tease you.”
“Hmph, and some people consider you the dry, urbane gentleman. At least I have never made that mistake.”
Laughter rumbled deep in his chest.
Their carriage finally drew up before the townhouse, and an Amblethorpe footman hurried to open their carriage door and let down the steps. As the footman handed her down, Cecilia looked down the street. There remained a line of carriages behind theirs—as many as had been before theirs—all waiting to discharge their passengers at the Amblethorpe party.
She tucked her arm in her husband’s as they climbed the stairs to the brilliantly lit house, the footman running ahead of them to open the door and usher them in before he attended to the next carriage in the line.
“That footman will be exhausted by the time the night is over,” Cecilia softly observed.
“For a ball, they would have two. I doubt the household expected this many to attend a musicale. I don’t recall the invitation mentioning the entertainment, other than an evening of seasonal music.”
“We shall know shortly. There is a woman standing with Lord and Lady Amblethorpe in the receiving line. She looks familiar.”
James looked toward their host. “It is Mrs. Billington, I believe.”
“I thought she retired.”
“She did. It has been about five years or so. However they enticed her to sing tonight, it will be an improvement over the concert where we met.”
Cecilia laughed softly. “I am convinced it can’t be any worse.”
“Now that is surprising,” James said.
“What?”
“Lady Soothcoor is here. The Dowager Countess of Soothcoor.”
“Soothcoor’s stepmother?”
“The same. She has a house in Richmond; however, typically she goes north and spends the holidays at Coor Castle.”
“Please point her out to me. I should like to meet her. We should speak to her about Krishan.”
James looked down at her. “You call him Krishan as Miss Rangaswamy does. You’ll need to remember to call him Christopher to others.”
“True. But where is she?”
“See the flame-haired woman by the staircase?”
“That is Lady Soothcoor?”
“Yes. Lady Lydia Soothcoor.”
Cecilia studied her. Tall and strong-featured, the woman carried herself with considerable assurance and grace. And she appeared to know everyone. Attired in a deep Nile-green silk gown, she stood with her arm through that of a gentleman a little younger, but fit, confident—and haughty, Cecilia decided, judging by the way the man couldn’t seem to get his nose down out of the air to look at anyone directly.
Cecilia tipped her head toward her husband. “Do you know her escort?”
“No. And don’t stare. We are almost to the Amblethorpes.”
