“Mr.Pilkey, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Rosalie says, dipping in a light curtsy to both of them. “And Mrs.Thornson, so kind of you to make the introduction. I’ve promised my dances for the evening, but Mr.Pilkey, I’m sure my father would be pleased to meet you, if perhaps Mr.Thornson might like to introduce you?”
Mrs.Thornson’s smile turns hard, but Mr.Pilkey looks frankly relieved.
“That would be most pleasing, Lady Rosalie, I thank you,” he says, his voice halting.
Mrs. Thornson nods and ushers him away, sending Rosalie a cutting look. She has a new cousin to introduce to Rosalie at every single ball. If she hasn’t gotten the hint by now, she neverwill. At some point Rosalie is sure Father will revoke her allotted two brush-offs; it can’t be pleasant for his card games to be interrupted with inane introductions either. But for tonight, she’s grateful for his largesse.
It only takes dodging five further introductions until Rosalie... not scurries, for ladies neverscurry... but hurries over to Amalie and Henrietta, slipping into their alcove with true relief.
But it’s hardly a warm greeting. They’re both staring across the room, and Henrietta’s biting at her nails through her gloves. Rosalie reaches out and swats her hand down. Only then does Henrietta look over, her round face wilting, blue eyes wide.
“Oh, thank God,” she says, gripping at Rosalie’s hand with her slightly damp one. “It’s absolutely dreadful.”
Amalie nods, her auburn curls bouncing rapidly around her high cheekbones. “I’ve been telling her it’s not, but itis, Rose.”
“What, exactly, is the cause for such histrionics?” Rosalie asks.
She follows Amalie’s pointed finger and looks across the dance floor. There, surrounded by a cluster of gentlemen, stand two dark-haired women she’s certain she’s never seen before. And the gentlemen are acting like they’ve never seen anything like them in their lives. It’s a veritable swarm. The group includes Henrietta’s latest suitor, the broad-cheeked Mr.Rile, and his two friends, Mr.Plory and Mr.Cason. She’s been planning to keep Plory and Cason on reserve for Amalie and Henrietta.
“Mrs. and MissPine, new to town,” Amalie mutters.
The mother is certainly striking, but it’s the daughter who catches Rosalie’s attention, her breath stalling in her chest. Dressed in a white muslin gown embellished with gold trim and blue ribbon, Miss Pine almost glows. Her tall, lithe frame suits the current popular silhouette in a way almost no one manages, making her look like she’s floating in her dress. Her light brown hair is shiny and studded with little gemstones. The capped sleeves show off her delicate arms, and the shelf on her bodice...
What man wouldn’t be enraptured? Rosalie’s having trouble tearing her eyes away. And then MissPine glances over, catching Rosalie’s gaze. MissPine’s deep brown eyes sparkle even at this distance, curious, and inquisitive, and far too keen. Rosalie actually has to look away.
Well. This won’t do at all.
“She’s so beautiful,” Henrietta says mournfully. “How can I compete with that?”
“You’re equally beautiful,” Amalie insists.
Petite, with charming curves and a round, open face, Henrietta is perfectly handsome and lovely in her own right. But Henrietta doesn’t have the captivating effect MissPine does simply by standing there.
“Isn’t she?” Amalie prompts, nudging Rosalie.
“And smart, and funny, and winsome,” Rosalie says, smiling brightly at Henrietta. “We’ll take care of this, don’t you worry.”
She squeezes Henrietta’s hand and exchanges a look with Amalie before leaving the protective cover of their alcove.
Oh, excellent, there’s Mr.Ebert. He’ll do nicely. Rosalie’s personally responsible for his marriage. He owes her this favor, and at least five more. Not to mention his wife, Laura, is stuck up north heavy with child.
Better yet, he’s talking with the haberdashery owner, Mr.Higgs, who can hardly rebuff her interruption, not when she and Mother practically keep his shop in business.
“Pardon me, Mr. Higgs, may I steal Mr. Ebert away? Myfriends and I are desperate for news of his dear wife,” she says, slipping in beside Mr. Ebert.
Mr.Higgs nearly jumps out of his skin. He’s easily six inches taller than Rosalie, and Mr.Ebert an inch taller than that. She can be very surprising at five feet, sneaking up on people. It helps keep them off-kilter.
“Oh, of course, of course, Lady Rosalie. Please do give your parents my regards,” Mr.Higgs says quickly.
“I will,” Rosalie says sweetly, looping her arm through Mr.Ebert’s to pull him away. She steers him back toward Amalie and Henrietta. “I need you to go grab Mr.Rile and bring him to me,” she says.
“Hello to you too, Lady Rosalie. You look very well,” Mr.Ebert says.
“And you look like you’re having an awful lot of fun while Laura suffers bringing your heir into the world,” Rosalie says, looking up to meet his light brown eyes.
He shakes his head, but can’t help the grin that crosses his stupidly square jaw. She picked a handsome one for Laura. Their children should be beautiful.
“What would you like me to say to Mr.Rile to remove him from... whatever situation he needs to be removed from?”
