Suddenly, His Grace stepped up beside his brother and spoke, but Eliza was far enough away that she couldn’t hear any of what was being said, which was probably for the best, she cautioned herself.
The Duke’s appearance was enough to snap Lady Camilla out of her stunned stupor and spur her into action. Her shoulders squared, chin lifted, as if confident His Grace would surely take her part in whatever was transpiring.
Eliza hated herself for wishing that she could hear what was being said. But she didn’t need to hear to know that things were not going as Lady Camilla expected they would.
Lady Camilla’s head jerked back, as if she’d been physically struck, and her eyes widened. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to have the poor sense to argue with the Duke of Elkington.
“Good heavens, I wonder what on Earth she could possibly have done to upset them,” Eliza whispered to Matilda.
“I cannot imagine, but I certainly would not want to find myself outside the Duchess of Elkington’s good graces. She loves her family quite ferociously, but I have heard it said that she can be an even more ferocious enemy to those who cross her, and their closest connections, too.”
Eliza shivered and rubbed her arms. She certainly wouldn’t want to cross Her Grace, either. The two of them fell silent as Lady Camilla’s mother gripped her by the arm hard enough to cut off whatever unwise thing she’d clearly been about to blurt out. The girl winced as a footman materialised to see them out of the Ball.
Then, with one graceful flick of his wrist, the Duke of Elkington set the Midsummer Ball back into motion. Everyone scrambled, attempting to look as if they hadn’t just been transfixed, watching that awful tableau play out, and the strangest thing happened.
Three sets of Stewart eyes seemed to fix on Eliza and Matilda. Eliza sucked in a gasp and reached over to grip Matilda’s wrist. The fine hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end and she hissed through clenched teeth.
“Why are our hosts staring at us, Matilda?”
“I am sure I haven’t the foggiest,” Matilda murmured.
Suddenly feeling quite a lot like a trapped animal, Eliza started to take a half-step back, thinking of excusing herself to the ladies’ retiring room, but Matilda gripped her forearm, holding on tight, and spoke through clenched teeth and a deceptively serene smile.
“Don’t you dare leave me standing here by myself when the Duke of Elkington and Lord Gabriel Stewart are staring at us.”
The Duchess of Elkington murmured something to her sons and disappeared into the crowd, but his Grace and Lord Gabriel remained, their gazes firmly trained on Eliza and Matilda.
Eliza wrung her hands, darting a desperate glance at the terrace doors.
“I have no idea what is going on, but I do not like this, Matilda. I do not like being noticed. Nothing good ever comes of being noticed. Just think how Susan and Eugenia have suffered. It is too warm in here. I feel faint. Wouldn’t you like to go out on the terrace and get some air?”
“Nice try.” Matilda snorted, rolling her eyes. “It’s not as if they can speak to us anyway, Eliza. We haven’t been introduced, so you’re panicking for no reason. Just calm down and drink your orgeat if you’re too warm.”
That much was true. Eliza sagged with relief. The Duke and his brother could not speak with any young ladies to whom they had not been introduced, so they were safe.
“Matilda, darling?”
Eliza and Matilda turned in unison to find Matilda’s mother, the Duchess of Thistlewayte, who was their chaperone for the evening, beaming at the two of them with the Duchess of Elkington at her side, motioning for someone to join them.
Eliza’s heart leapt into her throat, and her hands went cold and clammy. She could feel her desperate desire never to be noticed, her ability to simply blend into the shadows at the edges of a ballroom and be invisible, slipping through her fingers as she glanced over her shoulder and saw who was approaching.
The Duchess of Elkington cleared her throat as her sons arrived.
“So, tell me, Your Grace, who are these lovely young ladies in your charge this evening?”
The Duchess of Thistlewayte motioned to Matilda first.
“This is my daughter, Lady Matilda Calthorpe.” Matilda smiled and dipped in a graceful curtsey. Then, the Duchess of Thistlewayte motioned to Eliza with a kindly, benevolent smile. “And this is Matilda’s dearest friend in the world, the Honourable Miss Eliza Wingfield.”
Trembling with nerves and slightly less graceful than Matilda, Eliza bobbed a curtsey, too.
“It is lovely to meet you both, of course.” The Duchess of Elkington offered them both a broad, welcoming smile. “Please allow me to introduce you to my sons, His Grace, the Duke of Elkington, and Lord Gabriel Stewart.”
Each man bowed as their mother introduced them.
Lord Gabriel Stewart offered Eliza a bright smile.
“We are delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Wingfield. How is the orgeat?”
