“They were terribly clever.” Annis grinned.
“Oh, do amuse us,” Selina said. “I am sorry Mama needed me at home that day.”
“Does it not smack of sour grapes to disparage Lady Clara’s guests simply because they do not invite us to dance?” Lucasta asked.
“We shall aim only at deserving targets.” Minnie surveyed the gilded drawing room, crowded with lively dancers in the middle and spectators fanning themselves about the edge. She noted the young man changing places with Cici. “Plimpton.”
Lucasta glanced aside to see who might overhear them. A group of dowagers stood at their right, and to the left, a large cluster of potted palms imported for the evening.
“The most worthy Ralph Plimpton,” she saidsotto voce. “A true sprig of knighthood, but he droops without his mother to prop him.”
Selina giggled. “Lord Ashley.”
“A credit to his name and the country,” Lucasta said, warming to the game. “He can kiss his mistress in the morning, lose a fortune at cards in the evening, ride all day like the devil is on his heels, and shoot anything that will stand long enough for him to aim at it.”
“Too true.” Minnie sneered.
“Mallory,” Annis volunteered as the pattern changed and Cici fluttered into the major’s arms.
“Fortunate he has the bearing of a military man,” said Lucasta. “Nothing else could excuse that waistcoat.”
“Lord Rudyard,” Annis murmured. “I saw him chatting with the Duchess of Highcastle but a moment ago.”
“No doubt discussing the garish ostrich plumes on her turban.”
Minnie snapped her fan in mock horror. “Not even you, Queen Lucasta, could find aught to disparage of milord Rudyard.”
Selina bit her lip and looked down at her gown. Lucasta lifted her chin.
“Of course there is naught to disparage,” she said. “He is handsomer than he should be, and so perhaps he cannot be faulted for being no better than he is.”
“You fault him for being handsome?” Annis smiled.
“We should not behave as if he accomplishes something grand simply by looking well,” Lucasta said. “Here is my verse for his lordship: Many a sorry burden was less, and many a hard lot eased, because the folds of his cravat fell exactly as he pleased!”
“Cat.” Minnie tapped Lucasta on the wrist with her fan. “You are top-lofty now, but should he ask you to stand up with him, you would melt at his feet like the rest of us.”
“I most decidedly would not,” Lucasta replied. “No one petted him when he was Mr. Jeremiah Falstead, and no one should fawn over him now that a sudden turn of events has made his father heir to a marquessate. Besides, I should be afraid to melt and soil his expensive shoes.”
Annis and Minnie laughed, but Selina shook her head. “It is too bad that his cousin should die so young. Such a handsome young man.”
“You are right, my dear,” Lucasta said, chastened by Selina’s tender-heartedness. “It must have been a terrible blow for the family.”
And it had made Rudyard disagreeable, dispensing insults. She would not, like him, become cruel.
“I will be rung a peal by Aunt Pevensey,” Lucasta said, striving to lighten the moment, “since I have utterly lost track of Cici’s partners. Ought I allow Mr. Plimpton to lead her out for the gavotte?”
“Lucasta,” Annis murmured, “I believe someone else might have enjoyed our recent conversation.” She nodded toward the cluster of potted plants.
Smart Jeremy stepped from behind a lemon tree, touching his cravat as if to be sure every bleached and intricate fold was in place.
Lucasta turned to stone. “Oh, good heavens. He must have heard every word I said.”
He didn’t look furious. He looked supremely at ease and perfectly gorgeous, from the powdered hair pulled back into a queue to the buckles of his heeled slippers. The luxurious claret red fabric of his suit molded the kind of figure men had in fashion plates, accented with glittering buttons and beguiling embroidery on the hems of his coat and breeches.
A man who took such care with his appearance ought to have the mincing manner of a studied fop, but Smart Jeremy moved as casually as if he had simply tossed together his ensemble and strolled out the door, and it had not taken hours to achieve his dazzling effect.
Lucasta curled her shoulders into the puffed sleeves of her gown, wishing she could sink beneath the panniers holding up the too-wide skirt.
