"Elegance by Adonis. It is notoriously difficult to get a hold of. For some reason, the company only produces a certain number of bottles."
"I must have a bottle," exclaimed the lady sitting next to Miss Elinor. "How could I miss it?"
"Hush, Miss Mary, you have given yourself away," Edmund scolded, walking past her. She pouted.
He stepped to the next lady, who did not offer her hand.
She tilted her head up and fluttered her eyelashes. She looked up through her lashes and drew her mouth into a tight smile that was somehow ... intimate.
Ellen knitted her brows together.
"Lady Cynthia, of course," Edmund murmured, not even bothering to take her hand. "Nothing sweet and floral for you. Citrus and bergamot."
The lady smiled, satisfied, and looked up to meet Ellen's eyes. There was a gleam of triumph in them.
How strange.
Lady Lorena and Lady Watson he identified without a problem, for one wore a scent of violets, the other lavender.
Then he stood before her.
Ellen held her breath.
He put one hand behind his back, extended the other and leaned forward as if asking her to dance. Her heart pounding, Ellen put her hand in his.
"A soft, gentle hand," he murmured. "Tender as a bird's."
He lifted it to his nose, but as he did so, he turned her wrist. His thumb rubbed over the delicate skin. Something irresistible rushed through her veins.
"Ah, of course. My Ellen."
His voice was a deep caress. Her heart made a funny lurch, then refused to return to a normal, regular pattern.
"Amazing, Tewkbury, amazing. Of course, one would know one's beloved by her scent. And now, tell me, what perfume does your wife wear?" Dobberham demanded.
Tewkbury's nostrils flared, and Ellen felt his warm breath on her skin. Small goose bumps formed on her arms, and she held her breath.
"None." He frowned. "It's not perfume, it's soap. Pear soap, like you keep in our rooms. It smells like an English garden."
"Correct," Ellen whispered.
Louisa nodded. "Plain water and soap are often best for the complexion, I find. And Gowland's lotion."
"I swear by Olympia Dew," Miss Anne put in.
The general conversation drifted towards cosmetics. Edmund removed his blindfold, but there was a line between his eyebrows.
"And there is something else I cannot identify," he murmured.
Ellen tilted her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. But before she could ask him what he meant, Lady Dobberham had chosen her next victim. It was now the gentlemen's turn, and Miss Anne had to wear the blindfold.
They played several rounds and Ellen was tired. These games might be amusing to children or those looking for potential mates, but she'd had enough. There were loud shrieks, giggles, and laughter, and things escalated when Lord Benton, a dashing dandy, could not find the lady he was assigned to find and had to relinquish a forfeit.
A few minutes later, everyone rose to go to the refreshments table, where Ellen gratefully drank a glass of cool lemonade.
"We'll take an hour's break, then we'll get ready for dinner," Lady Dobberham announced, clapping her hands.
The ladies returned to the drawing room with their embroidery frames, while the men stayed outside to drink.
