While celebrating Kingston’s win, it occurred to me that a swift wedding requires a swift announcement, and as most families are now considering their withdrawal from town for the summer months, I am minded to keep everything local. I have, therefore, and after much deliberation, decided to resurrect the Knightswood Ball and do the deed then.
Matilda is already aware I intend to write the event off as a singular expense to announce both your betrothal and her presentation, and this to me seems a most efficient use of funds. Furthermore, I am content to leave the bulk of the arrangements to your sisters and have already written to Sophie with this in mind. Of course, I shall notify Huntingly of the date this afternoon.
I trust you are well otherwise and using this time to reflect on your forthcoming nuptials. It will surely be a welcome change from your books!
She didn’t bother with the rest of his formalities, which were a clear reflection of his relief at getting rid of another sister, and replaced the letter beneath a small decorative hourglass. She picked it up thoughtfully and turned it over, watching the fine silvery sand trickle through unchecked. Sophie had indeed received a letter from Thomas, and made no secret of her excitement of a real ball at Knightswood, at last.
‘It’s the greatest honour, dearest! Thomas never did as much for Phoebe or myself– he must be genuinely thrilled!’
Yet the news had only prompted more betrothal conversations, which worsened the hollow inside. More details and decisions would only lead to more disappointment when Lord Huntingly finally announced his withdrawal. Josephine swallowed, wishing she could turn the hourglass of her life upside down and start again. Instead, it seemed only that time was running out.
* * *
The Hamptons’ Grand Ball
16th June, 9 o’clock
‘I do declare that ivory silk net with embroidery and a satin trim were positively made for you!’ Sophie exclaimed as they arrived at the Hamptons’ extensive town residence. ‘And my blue ostrich feather was such an inspirational moment… you should wear your dark hair in a looped knot more often, Jo. Don’t you think, Dominic? Josephine really could be one of Sir Walter Scott’s heroines.’
Sophie turned her pretty face up to her tousled-haired, handsome husband who gazed back in a way that made her blush, leaving Josephine in no doubt about exactly who he considered to look a heroine this evening.
Josephine smiled, wishing she had half of Sophie’s faith in fashion solving most of life’s problems. Instead, she had a plan that she intended to put into action as soon as she could. Lord Huntingly may have disappeared, but he’d also provided her with time to conduct a little research. She might not find out exactly what happened when he and Pellham served in Italy, but someone in a position of military responsibility would have to know more.
‘Wasn’t Lord Hampton in the army?’ Josephine quizzed as they stepped out of the Rotherby coach and up to the Hamptons’ colonnade entrance.
‘Yes, he was a very respected general,’ Rotherby replied.
‘Lord, Jo, of all the things I thought you might say!’ Sophie chuckled, rolling her eyes. ‘Anyone would think you weren’t in the least bit excited about your new dress… Oh look, there’s Ursula– in lavender! Goodness me, when will the Hampton ladies realise a pale countenance does not do well in pastels…’
Josephine smiled but was already a thousand miles away, scanning the crowded hall for sight of Lord Hampton. It wasn’t easy– tonight’s affair looked to be well attended, given the Hamptons’ imminent removal to the country, and as though every family in town had come to wave them off.
‘What a pleasure, Lord and Lady Rotherby!’ Isabella Hampton twinkled in a gown of jonquil, trimmed with blonde lace that made Sophie blink.
‘And Miss Fairfax too! How delightful to see you again, Miss Josephine! Would you believe we have six tables for twelve in this room, and a long table for sixty in the parlour? I only hope everyone is looking forward to the turtle soup and asparagus, for Mama has been talking of nothing else for weeks!’
She peeled off into polite laughter as Josephine bobbed a curtsey, wondering again if there could be any doubt about Isabella’s supposed engagement to Sir Francis. They seemed so very different.
‘Might Lord Hampton be in the ballroom, Miss Isabella?’ Josephine asked. ‘I do so wish to thank him personally for inviting us.’
Isabella stared at her briefly before releasing another peal of polite laughter as she proffered her arm. ‘Oh, Josephine, I declare you are too droll for words! Papa was here receiving guests, but he must have slipped away when Mama wasn’t looking. I warrant he’s in the card room already but let us look together. I’m sure he will bemostflattered to know you were looking for him. And never fear, Lord Rotherby,’ she added with dancing eyes, ‘there are no archery plans this evening, so you should be quite safe from any rogue arrows!’
Josephine swallowed a gurgle of laughter, knowing her sister had long ceased finding references to her near-murder of her own husband humorous.
‘Thank you, Isabella,’ Sophie replied, her eyes glinting. ‘I hardly recall the occasion to which you refer for life has beensobusy, but then that is so often the way when one weds and starts a family. Perhaps you too will discover this joy for yourself when you finally realise that pastels…’
‘Let us fetch a refreshment, Isabella,’ Josephine interjected as her companion’s smile started to fade. ‘And you can tell me all about the seating arrangements for supper…’
At this enticing invitation, Isabella’s spirits brightened, and Josephine steered her hostess away from Sophie’s glare.
‘Mama is ecstatic that every family of the ton accepted tonight,’ Isabella gushed as they made their way to the refreshment table. ‘Every single one! It is her finest moment and she vows, if Ursula and I are not announcing our matches soon, she will eat her new hat! Bearing in mind her new hat is amonstrous affairwith a Prussian-blue brim, a matching ribbon, silk flowers and three peacock feathers at the crown–three!– it’s quite the assertion, don’t you think?’
Josephine blinked her agreement, wondering what Sophie would make of such a creation.
‘Indeed!’ she replied, as they made their way through the chattering throng in the vast hallway and towards the open doors of the ballroom. ‘And are there anyparticulargentlemen to whom you might be referring?’
They paused just inside the entrance. A hum of chatter and dancing filled the air, laced together by one of Josephine’s favourite minuets. She inhaled the colourful scene. She might not have relished her three seasons, but she had missed watching the ballroom, where she where she’d witnessed the start of a few real matches. The ton was littered with marriages of convenience, but sometimes there was a visible spark between two dancers that filled the void in her chest and made her long for her quill to capture it. She told no one of these moments, knowing they rightly belonged to others, but the briefest eye-widen or second glance gave her hope that occasionally, magic could happen outside the pages of a book.
‘Well, there might be acertainsomeone.’ Isabella blushed, pausing beside a solemn footman holding a tray of ratafia. ‘But, as you know, it’s not de rigueur to talk of such matters before—’ She broke off with a wide smile. ‘Aurelia! Or Baroness Caserta, as I should call you now. How well you look!’ She held out her hands in greeting. ‘And you too, Miss Amelia. Oh, it’s been an age since I’ve seen you both. How is your delightful son, Aurelia? He must be nearing two years of age now, I believe?’
