Caroline pointed out that she was also an heiress with a sizable dowry—not as sizable as Georgiana’s, of course—but that she was not swimming in marriage offers.
Georgiana said that it was far too soon for her to become desperate about such things. She was not yet out in society and she was only sixteen.
Caroline agreed.
But she also asked if Georgiana thought she was going to meet many other young and eligible dukes anytime soon, and it was true that Neithern was a bit unique. He was only twentyyears old, after all, only four years older than Georgiana. He was very handsome. He seemed to have liked her before. “And you quite liked him, didn’t you?” said Caroline pointedly. “You could have very easily fallen in love with him, is that not the case?”
Georgiana crumpled to the scheme easily after this sort of pressure.
If Caroline felt a bit guilty about it, she reminded herself that she was making Georgiana a duchess, and that there was no need to feel guilty about that.
Caroline had chosen the ball that night because it was the one time she could be assured that Neithern and Houseman would both be present at the same time in the same place. This didn’t happen often otherwise. Also, it seemed sort of dramatic in a way, having everything come to a head during the midsummer masque, the ball everyone had been planning for.
The ball itself was held outdoors on the grounds of Neith Abbey. There was a temporary floor set down, a wooden ballroom directly in front of the lake in front of the abbey. The lake reflected back the light of the metal fire baskets that hung here and there, along with the reflections of the stars. Since it was early July, there were also fireflies flitting here and there.
The entire area looked magical, almost as if it had been touched by the fey folk, Caroline thought. She held her elaborate mask to her face—she had not made it herself, of course, but had it made especially for the event along with her dress. It was a shade of very light green with tiny lavender accent flowers. The mask and the dress matched. She had little lavender flowers embroidered around the mask, like a vine. She was quite pleased with the look of it.
Caroline was barely listening to Georgiana, who was nervous and babbling all about how her brother was acting quite strangely that night and speculating on why he might be out of sorts. Caroline made noises whenever Georgiana paused,noncommittal, and she barely registered half of what the other girl said.
She was looking out for Mr. Houseman. He had not come in any of the carriages with his guests, though he had seen them all off, dressed for a ball, with his own mask. Even so, he had still not arrived, and she was beginning to worry that he would not come at all.
Of course,she thought.He would not come. They do not wish to be seen together, after all. And Neithern speculated that Houseman did not come to the balls at all.
Well, dash everything.
Her entire plan had been ruined, had it not?
Then, coming through the crowd of masked revelers appeared a man in a plain black mask and a tidy suit. It took Caroline a moment to recognize him as Neithern as he offered his hand to Georgiana.
“Miss Darcy,” said Neithern. “Has anyone claimed your first two dances?”
Georgiana giggled in delight, turning to beam at Caroline. “Indeed not, sir.”
“May I?” he said, smiling at her.
“Oh, I would be ever so pleased,” said Georgiana.
Caroline watched them go off to dance, huffing to herself.
This would never do.
She had been stymied and thwarted at every turn and she would not allow that to happen.
How could she get Mr. Houseman here?
She marched over to a servant. “You,” she said. “How much would you like to run to Barralds and deliver a message to the master there.”
“To Barralds?” said the servant.
Caroline named an amount. “Would that entice you?”
“I am meant to work here at the ball, ma’am, and I—”
“How about this much?” said Caroline and named an even higher amount.
The servant licked his lips. “W-well, perhaps I could duck out for a few moments, I suppose?”
NOT TWENTY MINUTESlater, on the outskirts of the dance floor, Mr. Houseman waved a scrap of paper in Bishop Sulles’s face. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
