Weathersted. Why did that name seem familiar? Then she had it. “I met a Mrs. Manners who is companion to Kynaston’s sister. I believe she said that Lady Phyllis is visiting Town with some neighbors called Weathersted.”
“Ah. The Weathersteds are Phyllis’s godparents. That’s her with them.”
The plain, badly dressed girl was Kynaston’s sister?
Ariana had begun to feel a little kindly toward the man, but here was yet more proof of his fecklessness. He could do little about his sister’s looks, but he could ensure she was better presented.
Lady Phyllis’s dark hair was scraped back from hernondescript face without a trace of curl, and she was wearing a plain black round gown that was only barely suitable for this occasion. She must have felt particularly uncomfortable when constantly in company with a beauty like Miss Weathersted.
Ariana would like to have words with Kynaston, but then the second waltz was announced, wiping away all other thoughts. She’d told Inching she had a partner and was about to be proved a liar.
Across the room, Inching was watching her, probably ready to leap into the breach.
Then a very tall man entered her line of sight and bowed. “Count Lubinoff, my lady,” he said in a heavy accent. “Do you forget you promised this honor to me?”
No matter how Lady Cawle had arranged this, presumably with the assistance of Lady Lieven, she was saved, and in spectacular fashion. Count Lubinoff’s deep blue uniform was festooned with gold, and he topped her by at least six inches. Ariana would have been grateful for any suitable partner, but she gave him her warmest smile as she rose to go with him onto the dancing floor.
The count wasn’t the most graceful dancer she’d ever partnered, but his height made her feel positively petite, which was a novel sensation. How odd to begin to realize that she didn’t like it. She’d become used to being as tall as, or taller than, most men and didn’t much care for being so overwhelmed, for having to look up, for having to stretch her arm to match his.
She was so engaged in assessing this peculiarity that she only belatedly noticed that Norris was dancing again. Astonishing, especially the waltz, which he claimed to find embarrassing. His partner this time was poorLady Phyllis. He’d have been obliged to offer, of course, but the girl was flushed with pleasure, and looking up into his eyes in a very particular manner.
Ariana saw Kynaston standing against a wall, observing them with a glower. Perhaps he was realizing what a sight his sister was, or more likely that she was glowing with false hope. Ariana resolved to have a word with Norris later. He probably didn’t realize what a handsome, eligible prospect he was.
She had no time to observe or interfere for the rest of the ball, for gentlemen positively competed to partner her. They weren’t all her height, but none were tiny. Inching didn’t attempt to approach again. She thoroughly enjoyed the event and she knew her mother was relieved and pleased. She’d have been happy for the dancing to continue until dawn, as it often did in the summer, but at this time of year dawn came late, and mourning dictated an early end. The music ceased at one in the morning.
Ariana went down to the hall, intending to thank Lady Cawle for ensuring she’d had so many suitable partners, but the lady was already settling into her sedan chair. It had been brought inside and she was soon carried away by her liveried chairmen, an armed footman trotting alongside.
There was definitely something to be said for a sedan chair.
Eventually the Boxstall carriage was called and Ariana went outside with her family, finding the ground wet from recent rain, but the air fresh.
As they rolled through the dark, damp streets, her mother said, “You remember we’re to move to the house tomorrow, Norris?”
“Of course I do, Mama. What do you take me for?All is in order, and Mrs. Milner is looking forward to having a lady take charge.” After a moment, he said, “I was thinking we might hold a small entertainment once you’re settled.”
“An excellent idea,” Lady Langton said, but with some surprise, and Ariana knew why. She couldn’t remember Norris ever taking an interest in hosting an entertainment. Not one that involved ladies, that was.
He flushed a little. “For Ariana.”
Or for a pretty blonde.
“Aren’t you afraid it might facilitate my wooing?” Ariana teased.
He seemed startled by the notion and looked away, shrugging. “You’ll woo wherever you are. Thought you might like it.”
Ariana resisted the urge to tease him some more and thanked him, feeling more at ease than she had in days.
Norris was smitten and surely ardent young love was impatient. She couldn’t imagine Miss Weathersted making any difficulty about becoming a countess by Christmas. Thus, they could all celebrate the season at Boxstall, problem solved and life back to normal.
Of course Miss Weathersted would then be mistress of Boxstall, and Ariana agreed with Lady Cawle’s assessment that she was a flibbertigibbet. However, no one could command her brother to marry a sensible woman and all that was truly needed was marriage and an heir.
After they’d dropped off Norris at the Boxstall town house, Ariana said, “I think he might be interested in young ladies at last, Mama.”
“I know. Isn’t it exciting? I may see both of you married by the spring.”
Ariana hoped her mother wouldn’t be too disappointedto have only one wedding, and that one much sooner than spring.
Everything was suddenly bright. Her brother was falling in love, and tomorrow they would move out of Lady Cawle’s house. There’d be no further risk of coming across Kynaston in his cups, and little chance of seeing him at all.
