Phoebe looked down at the embroidery that had been pushed into her hands the moment the captain was announced. She’d spent half the morning berating herself for ever trusting Aurelia in the first place, and the other half wondering if bad backstitch represented the sum of her life for the foreseeable future.
‘Well, I favour a bit of drama over polite conversation any day!’ the captain boomed jovially.
She looked across at the sunny-tempered military man and wondered, for the umpteenth time, if he really could have anything to do with Aurelia’s spot of bother. It seemed so very unlikely, especially since he was the viscount’s brother, and yet he and Aurelia were clearly on familiar terms too.
‘Will you be returning to your regiment soon, Captain Elliot?’ Sophie asked.
She was seated in the window, a position she’d chosen when the captain was announced, to showcase her green taffeta and sunlit ringlets to their best advantage.
Phoebe suppressed a frown as he turned to engage her sister directly. His interest was no surprise, Mama always regarded Sophie as her finest work, and the daughter most likely to contract an advantageous marriage, yet Sophie was also well aware of her suspicions. Her determination to ignore this, and continue fluttering her eyelashes as though they were the latest Parisian fashion, was most undermining.
‘Oh, yes, I think it’s a wonderful idea, don’t you think, Phoebe?’
Phoebe blinked as they all turned to look at her, conscious she’d been lost in thought for a few moments.
‘Why … yes of course … if you think so?’ she stalled.
Sophie rolled her eyes, before shaking back her ringlets and rising to her pretty slippered feet.
‘The captain has invited us to a small private soirée next month! Doesn’t that sound fun? Is it not kind of him to include us among his select family and friends.’
Phoebe frowned, eyeing her sister intently. She’d seen that stubborn gleam before, and it was one that didn’t take kindly to challenges, yet they were both aware of the social restrictions before their presentation.
She’d also been consoling herself with the thought that she’d never have to face the viscount again, but how could she possibly avoid him at his own family dinner?
‘Well, it’s a very kind invitation, but would we even be permitted?’ she murmured, looking at her aunt.
Sophie laughed prettily.
‘It could be a chance to quell any rumours – show everyone we really are quite civilised – and not even you could attract drama at a private soirée!’
Her eyes narrowed briefly, leaving Phoebe in no doubt of her intent. She meant to attend, whatever the cost.
‘My hesitation is no reflection on your generous invitation of course, dear Captain,’ Aunt Higglestone rushed, clearly flustered by the thought of appearing in the least bit impolite, ‘but rather of the fact that my eldest nieces aren’t officially out in society yet. However, I have to say I see little problem with a smallsoirée withselectfamily and friends – this is Bath, after all – and we’re certainly very grateful to your dear brother, the viscount, for his assistance at the picnic, too. Are we not, dear?’
This last was directed with some purpose at Uncle Higglestone, who’d managed to sequester himself in the corner of the room with a botanical journal detailing the mating rituals of wood ants. He grunted appropriately.
‘Mr Higglestone called on the viscount this morning, though he wouldn’t hear of our covering the cost of his suit when it must have been quite ruined – he was soaked to the skin after all…’ Their aunt broke off to fan herself suddenly. ‘Indeed, Mr Higglestone and I owe your brother a very large debt, Captain Damerel, for we are quite certain the outcome would have been very different without his assistance. On this basis alone, we would accept your kind invitation, except the final say must come from my eldest nephew, their guardian.’ She nodded and smiled, her cheeks the colour of rosy apples. ‘I will, however, write to himwithout delayand impress on him the kindness you have shown, and the family nature of the soirée, and of course the fact that this is Bath – not London – and in truth, I already feel hopeful of a positive outcome.’
The captain gazed at Mrs Higglestone in admiration, his eyes dancing.
‘That is encouraging, indeed,’ he responded warmly.
‘In the meantime, please do pass on our warmest wishes to your dear brother, as well as our sincerest gratitude for his assistance with both Misses Fairfax – again.’ She nodded rapidly.
Phoebe had long ceased listening to the small talk and was wondering whether she ought to send her own letter to Thomas, in case he suffered any momentary lapse of character and actually considered her aunt’s request. She looked up to find Sophie eyeing her carefully, before turning her own pretty smile on the captain.
‘Did you say it’s amaskedsoirée, Captain Damerel?’ Sophie enquired. ‘Should we look to Venice for inspiration?’
A sunny beam lit up his fair face, and briefly Phoebe wondered what goddess had visited his mother in order to reap such a difference in her sons.
‘Oh, Lord yes, please do. The morecarnivalethe better! It’s a family thing our mother insists on holding in Father’s memory. It’ll also mark my farewell – for I’m to rejoin my regiment in May – as well as provide an opportunity for a formal family announcement.’
Phoebe narrowed her gaze at the jovial captain, while Sophie looked positively crestfallen.
‘Oh, you’re leaving so soon?’ she exclaimed. ‘And … a formal family announcement? How exciting?’
She forced her voice to be light, but Phoebe knew her better.
