He smiled. "Of course, Lady Winslow," he took her arm with the grace and dignity of a perfect gentleman. "We should attend to the guests. After all, this is the very important night." He extended his other arm to Elyse.
Lucy Maitland smiled radiantly in greeting as they joined her. "You look absolutely stunning tonight," she whispered discreetly to Elyse from behind her satin brocade fan. "But you really should try to smile. People will think you're not enjoying your own engagement party."
Elyse flashed her a pleading glance as Jerrold left to converse with an acquaintance.
"Oh, Lucy, what am I going to do?" she whispered miserably.
Lucy caught her by the arm and drew her away from prying glances. "What are you saying?"
Elyse smiled. "It's nothing, probably just the excitement of the party."
"I've seen more excitement from you over studying French essays from our tutor," her friend commented.
They'd attended academy together, and suffered over French as well as mathematics, going through it all with undying loyalty to each other. In the past, she could tell Lucy just about anything. But how could she possibly tell Lucy about the doubts that nagged at her now?
Elyse shook her head, "I don't know..." She made a gesture toward the brilliantly decorated room. "I should feel differently about all this."
"What's wrong?"
"I want to feel the way you do about Andrew. That's how it should be between a man and woman, isn't it?"
Her friend drew back in surprise. A playful smile twitched at the corners of Lucy's mouth. "Well, let me tell you. He is off limits," she declared. "And I'll scratch out the eyes of any female who thinks otherwise."
Elyse groaned. "You know what I mean."
Lucy nodded. "Yes, I know precisely what you mean." She wrapped an arm around Elyse's waist as they walked together. "You're probably just nervous about all this. After all, the Barrington name has been known to strike fear into the hearts of mortal men. That's quite a title you're marrying."
"A title," Elyse responded somberly. "Perhaps that's it." She shook her head, trying to find a way to explain her feelings. "When did you know you loved Andrew?"
"I must have been about seven years old." Lucy tapped the tip of her closed fan thoughtfully against her chin. "Yes, I'm certain of it." Her eyes widened. "Do you promise not to laugh, if I tell you about it?"
"Seven years?" Elyse laughed, astonished. It seemed incredible that her friend, who'd been known to be rather wild, unmanageable, and unpredictable as a child, could have loved anyone for more than a week at the most, much less since she was seven years old.
"I warned you not to laugh."
She fastened an appropriately solemn expression on her face. "Yes, of course."
Lucy looked at her skeptically, then decided she could be trusted to keep her word.
"Andrew and his parents were visiting us at Shelbourne. I was riding my pony and fell off, right into the middle of a mud puddle at his feet. I'll never forget the expression on his face. He laughed so hard."
Elyse couldn't restrain herself as she imagined Lucy sprawled in a mud puddle. It came out in a most unladylike fashion and was quickly muffled behind her gloved hand.
"You must have been furious," she managed to say, forcing back laughter until her eyes watered. "You've always had a dreadful temper."
Lucy glared at her. "I was, of course. But he just kept right on laughing. Well, he just has the most infectious laughter. How could I possibly resist? No one ever dared laugh at me before. I decided right then and there, he was the man I was going to marry. Anyone who would dare laugh at Lucy Devereaux was as crazy as I was… or had a strong sense of himself." She tried to bolster Elyse' spirits.
"Not everyone falls into love and a mud puddle all in the same day. Usually, it's accomplished in much more conventional ways. It's just not the same for everyone," she said encouragingly. "Now, if you were to ask Andrew, he'd come up with an entirely different explanation. Our first meeting wasn't like that at all for him. He thought I was an impossible, demanding child." She winked wickedly. "Now, he knows how demanding I can be."
"But you fell in love in spite of everything," Elyse bemoaned. "Why can't I feel that way about Jerrold? Do you know what he'd say if I fell into a mud puddle?" She tilted her head and assumed a stern, disapproving expression."My dear Elyse,"she mimicked, her mouth pursing into a thin frown."Whatever will people think? After all, you have a position to think of. You'll be the laughingstock of London. How will I ever live this down?"For added effect, she rolled her brilliant blue eyes in an exact imitation of Jerrold's most reproving glare.
Lucy choked back her own laughter. She'd known Jerrold Barrington a long time. They all moved in the same social circles, but despite that, Jerrold always considered himself a notch above everyone else.
"Oh, Lucy." Elyse sighed, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of her own eyes. "Here I am making a joke about it." She smiled sadly. "It's no joke at all. I should feel something...more, something like... "She paused, searching for the right word. It was there, from her dreams, but she wondered if Lucy would consider her completely mad.
"Like a bolt of lightning?" Lucy suggested, arching her brow. "I feel it every time Andrew and I are together. I'd die if I didn't," she whispered solemnly, rare for Lucy Maitland. Her gaze wandered across the ballroom to where her husband was involved in lively discussion with an acquaintance. "It's as if we were meant to be together." She laughed at the foolishness of the notion and made a joke of it.
"You know, destined, written in the stars," she said making an elaborate gesture through the air with her hand. Then, struck by a sudden thought, she seized two champagne glasses from a nearby tray, and handed one to Elyse.
