“While I hate to risk reigniting this debate,” she interjected, “I have yet another complication to introduce to our association with the Carringtons.” She fished the vouchers from her pocket and put them on the table. “Lord Montaigne himself stopped me in the street and gave me these. They are vouchers—to Almack’s.”
Exclamations of surprise filled the room. Six brown eyes moved from her to the table.
“Not truly?” Eloisa said, moving to inspect them. “Why would Lord Montaigne do such a thing? I thought they had merely come to gawk—they presumed on such a slight acquaintance—but this—”
“Yousee,mother,” Natasha said, jumping up from her sofa with an unusual alacrity. “Lord Percy and his brother can’t mean us harm if they have provided us entry into the most respectable establishment in London. Ah,mon dieu, but it is such a gesture.”
“I have heard that the food at Almack’s is some of the worst in England,” Nathanial broke in.
“It may be,” Olivia said. “But admission is practically synonymous with acceptance into theton. For Lord Montaigne to have secured these, he would have had to exert quite a bit of influence with the right people.”
“How could he do it?” Eloisa said, looking down at the vouchers in wonder. Red seals at the corners nearly shined off the white paper. The elegant blue scroll carried the type of understated power that was used to not having to announce itself.
“His friends, surely,” Olivia supplied, thinking through the possibilities. “He has long been close friends with the Marquess of Leith, whose mother practically runs Almack’s. But he has other friends, too, who could do such a favor for him. The Duke and Duchess of Edington are perhaps the most popular couple of theton.It is said they have influence anywhere.”
“The ball is for tomorrow night,” Natasha said, running her hand over the ink on her own invitation. “We will go, of course?”
Eloisa looked pained.
“I suppose,” she finally said, “I suppose we have to.”
Natasha let out a whoop of elation. “I must speak to Betty about my gown.” She swept from the room.
Nathanial walked over to the table and picked up his own voucher. Giving herself and his mother a significant look that, nevertheless, remained opaque to Olivia, he followed his sister through the doorway.
“Merde,” Eloisa said, plopping herself down with exhaustion on a nearby pink-striped armchair, “I knew that London would be a challenge, but I have to admit that I did not expectthis.”
Olivia took the chair opposite Eloisa’s. “Neither did I anticipate such problems. Do you think it is wise to go to Almack’s?”
“We have no choice,” Eloisa said, shaking her head. “The compliment is too great to be ignored. I wish I knew why Lord Montaigne has bestowed it.” Her friend paused and then peered at her with a smirk. “I must say, however, knowing your history with the man, I am even more alarmed.”
Olivia started. “I do not catch your meaning.”
“I can’t know, of course. But I presume the man has done it for you.”
“Forme? No, Eloisa, that is not—it is impossible.”
“You dismissed him so definitively the other night, Olivia. He may have seen it as the only way to keep you close. And using that piddling association between Natasha and his brother to appear here? It nearly has the air of desperation.”
Glacier blue eyes and the smell of bergamot flooded Olivia’s senses once more. Could that desire have been more than contempt? More than an attempt at control or degradation?
No. She wouldn’t let herself think it. It was too dangerous.
“I feel certain that I am not his object. In fact, I am worried that—well, he seemed to be ingratiating himself with Natasha.”
“Natasha?” Eloisa’s brow furrowed. “What would the earl want with my daughter?”
“I don’t know but such behavior worries me. I do not want her to get hurt.”
“If the earl hoped to turn my daughter’s head, he failed today. She only has eyes for his brother.” Eloisa looked pensive. “And he gave the vouchers to you.”
“I—well, I must confess that I ran after him. Once I saw his manner to Natasha. I wanted him to know that I could see what he was about.”
“Still, he could have presented them to me or her. But he didn’t.”
Olivia opened her mouth in objection, feeling that Eloisa was missing the danger posed by Lord Montaigne. But her friend held up her hand.
“I will watch Lord Montaigne. I am not about to let my daughter be seduced by a notorious scoundrel. And I certainly don’t want to see her lose her heart to Lord Percy, who may only be indulging a whim of the moment and using his powerful brother to do it. But, to be honest, Olivia, where the Carringtons are concerned, I am more worried about you than my daughter.”
