‘What? I don’t think Harriet will ever recover from the sight of my best smalls sailing over Knightswood lake and attaching themselves to the topmost branches of the old oak. Or the sight of yours as you climbed the tree to retrieve them!’
‘Oh hush!’ Phoebe retorted, dabbing at her eyes again. ‘Whatever will Hargreaves think? He thinks I’m a respectable viscountess!’
‘More fool him then,’ her sister said, grinning. ‘And given the tribe’s arrival, I’m sure he’s starting to revise his good opinion!’
‘Look,’ Phoebe managed finally, ‘I know the timing of my honeymoon isn’t ideal, especially since this is your debut season, but my going away shouldn’t really affect anything. And I’ve suggested to Aunt and Uncle that you all stay here at Damerel Place while we’re away. There’s more than enough room, and they are helping us out after all.’
‘You know Aunt won’t do it,’ Sophie replied with a sigh. ‘She considers you far above us mere mortals now, Phoebs, and no matter how much I try to convince her you’re still the same old trouser-wearing oddity, just elevated to the lofty heights of Viscountess, she won’t have it.’
‘“Wood Lodge has always been good enough for your dear uncle and me”,’ she mimicked. ‘“And I just wouldn’t feel like plain old Penelope Higglestone with a fancy phaeton and pair, let alone a grand Mayfair address!”’
‘Sophie!’ Phoebe begged, her cheeks aching.
‘Which leaves me with Aunt’s bourgeois lodgings, being tormented, and marrying any old country squire!’ she concluded grumpily.
‘I’m sure it could be worse,’ Phoebe replied, her eyes dancing, ‘but what news from the Hamptons anyway?’
‘Well, they’ve invited us to an archery party next week, which I suppose I’ll be attending alone, dear sister, since you will undoubtedly be very busygazing?—’
‘An archery party, how lovely!’ Phoebe exclaimed swiftly, ‘Who will be there?’
‘Oh, the usual young crowd,’ Sophie replied with a grin. ‘Isabella and Ursula, Lady Harriet Wakeley, the Farrington twins, Lady Aurelia and a few gentlemen of the ton too– Lord Endercott, I expect, simpering Lord Riley and perhaps Sir Weston… You know what Lady Hampton is like.’
‘Lord Rotherby?’ Phoebe quizzed.
‘Lord Rotherby?’Sophie frowned. ‘I doubt it, but how should I know? I’m not in charge of the invitation list. However, if heisthere, I shall simply remind him that while I am afearless Fairfax, it is only the beginning of the season!’
‘Sophie, please remember Lord Rotherby is?—’
‘A notorious rake and entirely unsuitablecompany for a debutante looking to make an advantageous love match,’ she finished, rolling her eyes, ‘I’m not a ninny-hammer, Phoebe! Though whatreal offence he has committed other than possessing a lively wit and charming disposition, I’m sure I don’t know. And from what I recall, Alexander wasn’t half as gallant when you were gallivanting around Bath pretending to be a seasoned actress…’
She tailed off as Phoebe shot her a dangerous look.
‘Anyway, I’m not about to fall for someone who doesn’t believe an advantageous love match is even possible,’ she huffed. ‘We just have this silly wager, as you know!’
‘Yes, well I’m sure Thomas wouldn’t be happy with you having a silly wager with anyone, least of all a rakish bachelor of the ton,’ Phoebe retorted. There was a moment while each observed the other stubbornly before Phoebe exhaled in exasperation. ‘Lord Rotherby is only interested in mischief and distraction. You must see that?’
‘Of course I do,’ Sophie snapped. ‘I’m not a simpleton!’
‘Then why bother with the wager at all? Just treat it with the contempt it deserves.’
‘I can’t,’ Sophie replied crossly. ‘He spoke as though love should be the verylastconsideration in a marriage, and that exasperates me beyond anything.’ She paused to scowl. ‘And while I know I should place no stock in his opinions at all, I cannot help but feel a burning desire to prove him entirely wrong!’
Sophie paused to eyeball her sister.
‘But that is precisely why youshouldignore him,’ Phoebe reasoned carefully.
‘Easier said than done when he’s entirely determined to prove he is right! After all, why else did he read Lord Byron at the Carlisles’s soiree last week?’
She rolled her eyes dramatically.
Phoebe took a deep breath. ‘I think I recall that, but why should his reading Byron mean anything at all, dearest?’
‘Did you not notice how Aurelia changed seats so she could be quite clearly seen by all?’ Sophie replied. ‘Simpering and fluttering her eyelids as though he read for her alone? Harriet says she has enjoyed a flood of new suitors since, and the marchioness is delighted. I suppose she must have all but given up hope of a decent match after her daughter informed the duke he was a pompous purple peagoose!’
‘Well, he is purple,’ Phoebe conceded, momentarily distracted.
‘Extremely so,’ Sophie agreed readily. ‘But he was trying to prove, of course, that the language of love is useful only to garner attention, and little else.’
