Charley carefully added lavender and then some rosemary. She inhaled and smiled.
“You are making your bouquet by scent!” Lady Felicity announced, leaning forward. “It’s delightful. Will you help me? I love roses but perhaps the fragrance is overwhelming?”
“Roses always remind me of my dead husband,” an older woman offered from across the table.
Two younger ladies, obviously twins, giggled but then one quickly shushed the other. Both had chestnut-brown hair and perfect complexions. Their eye color was the same, but whereas one of the girls flashed hers about, placing flowers willy-nilly in her vase, the other girl’s eyes were quite somber as she contemplated her vase, where she’d placed three daisies.
“They are Lady Lucinda and Lady Lydia, Blackheart’s younger sisters,” Bethany murmured in Charley’s ear. “They’ll be making their come-out this spring as well.”
“Blackheart also has a younger brother, but he’s off at war.” Tabetha exhaled a sad sigh. “He’s arguably even more handsome than the duke. Oh, I do hope his regiment is on leave again this spring.”
Over the next twenty minutes, Charley found herself listening to all manner of gossip but also assisting and making recommendations to a few of the other ladies working around her.
“And what have we here?” Mrs. Finch joined them. “Some most unusual arrangements.”
Lady Bethany explained what they had been doing and the instructor commended them all. “I shall have to incorporate this consideration into some of my future lessons.”
“Ladies!” The countess had risen. “Thank you so very much for making the arrangements for the dining room this evening. We will certainly have a most interesting table, will we not?”
Some laughter and a few mumbled answers sprang up around them, because although most of the arrangements were indeed, quite lovely, each was a little different and they certainly wouldn’t match. Charley couldn’t help smiling, however.
She had not expected to enjoy herself and it was with some reluctance that she acknowledged that she’d had fun.
Wonders might never cease.
“We shall meet for tea in the front drawing room in one hour. Please take the time you need to freshen up, if you’d like.” Lady Westerley waved her hands in front of her face. “I am always amazed at how warm I am in here, even in wintertime.”
“It’s called a hothouse for that very reason,” Lady Tabetha teased her mother with an affectionate smile.
Lady Bethany hooked her arm through one of Charley’s, and Lady Tabetha did the same with Lady Felicity as they strolled out of the room and back through the garden. The duke’s sisters were ushered away by an older lady, likely a companion or governess.
“Your hair is stunning.” Lady Felicity peered around the girl beside her and commented in Charley’s direction.
Seeing two pretty girls together, their blonde curls shining in the sunlight, had Charley feeling more than a little self-conscious.
“I’m positively jealous of both of you. And of Miss Jackson,” Lady Bethany piped up from beside her.
“But you have perfectly lovely hair, Lady Bethany,” Charley protested. It was a perfectly normal brown and could never displease anyone.
“Call me Bethany.”
“Then you must call me Charley.”
“Let’s none of us be formal, then. I’m Felicity.” The girl waved one hand through the air. “But only when we are not in mixed company.” A mischievous light lit her gaze as it shifted to the gentlemen approaching them from the manor.
Charley resented that her stomach lurched a little to see Lord Westerley among them. The others seemed to be the same lordly specimens who had been hiding behind the pianoforte and in the window seat yesterday afternoon.
“Surely, we are the luckiest fellows in all of England this afternoon.” A man with perfect features and long lashes on his pale blue eyes, who was not quite as tall as the earl, bowed in their direction. After sending a wink in Tabetha’s direction, he eyed Charley. “I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance yet, ma’am. Lady Bethany, won’t you be so kind as to present me to this vision of loveliness?”
Charley pinched her lips together, because even on her best day, she’d never consider herself any such thing.
Bethany scowled in his direction but nonetheless stepped forward dutifully. “Miss Jackson, may I present to you Baron Chaswick.” Up close, Charley thought this man was possibly the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
Bethany presented the other four gentlemen, all of whom were titled except one. “And His Grace, the Duke of Blackheart.” When she turned to the last of them, Charley held herself rigid as the darkest, most menacing man bowed over her hand. A duke! She would have been quite happy to live all of her life without meeting someone so haughty as this person.
“Shall we return to the manor then?” Mr. Spencer offered his arm to Lady Tabetha, who turned away in favor of the marquess. Lady Felicity—Felicity—paired up with Lord Westerley and Lady Bethany with Baron Chaswick.
“If it is true that your father is the American Whiskey King, then does that make you a princess?” Mr. Spencer offered his arm, and Charley easily took it. If anything, his lack of title made him the most attractive of the bunch.
