Chase stepped back when Stone’s sister, Lady Hawthorne, a lovely blonde countess, greeted Bethany enthusiastically, “That gown is positively stunning. And your hair! Iadoreit!”
The Earl of Hawthorne wasn’t far behind his wife. “Chaswick, I understand congratulations are in order.”
Chase grasped the man’s outstretched hand and thanked him even as other acquaintances approached and offered their felicitations, to both him and to Bethany. His wife seemed to be pleasantly surprised and if he was correct in his understanding of her, a little embarrassed.
But it was good for her—being the center of attention for something other than their scandal.
Among those who’d stepped forward were Spencer’s oldest brother, Viscount Darlington, and his wife; the Duke and Duchess of Cortland; Viscount and Viscountess Danbury; Peter Spencer; and a handful of other titled individuals he’d only met in passing.
Meanwhile, the line progressed forward and the two identical young ladies making their debut came into sight, along with their sponsor, Lady Ravensdale, with Lord Ravensdale at her side, and of course, Blackheart.
This demonstration of support, Chase had no doubt, was not by accident. Catching Blackheart’s gaze, Chase jerked his chin upward in thanks.
Blackheart acknowledged him by dipping his down a fraction of an inch.
Chase claimed Bethany’s hand and the two of them approached the guests of honor along with their host.
“Lady Bethany.” One of Blackheart’s sisters took Bethany’s hands in hers, smiling and leaning in to whisper, “Forgive me! I mean, Lady Chaswick. Good on you, landing a baron so early in the Season.” She would be Lucinda Cockfield, he guessed, as Lydia Cockfield, the other twin, exercised considerably more discretion. Although the young ladies were nearly impossible to tell apart, he distinctly remembered that.
“Lord Chaswick.” Lady Lucinda winked.
“Don’t mind her.” Lady Lydia frowned at her sister. “Thank you so very much for coming tonight, and felicitations on your recent marriage.”
“How beautiful you look tonight, dear.” Lady Ravensdale took Bethany’s hand, moving them along the line in the process. The countess may not have been born into the aristocracy, but she played the game better than most. More importantly than that, she was a good person. All of the family was, despite Stone’s recent ill-humor and Peter’s less than ideal timed jokes.
Blackheart was the last person in the formal reception line to welcome them.
Bethany surprised Chase by grinning up at the duke. “Your Grace.” She dropped into a curtsey. “I thought you were going to be indisposed this Season. From what my brother told me before he and Charley left for Scotland.”
Blackheart merely raised his brows. “But where else would I be on the night my sisters make their debut?”
Bethany merely shook her head, but then grew serious. “I’ve no doubt they appreciate everything you do for them. As do Lord Chaswick and I.”
Blackheart merely dipped his chin again. The duke had essentially raised his sisters, who’d barely been toddlers at the time of their parents’ death. He was, indeed, practically a father to them.
Since the line of guests stretched into the drive, the two of them didn’t linger but moved deeper into the house. In this particular foyer, servants assisted various guests out of their capes and coats so they could then line up in a short queue formed at the entrance to the ballroom. A majordomo heralded each new arrival in a booming voice.
A few scowls from distant acquaintances didn’t surprise him in the least. Not everyone was going to be bowled over by their show of bravado.
And then every other person present might as well have disappeared when he caught sight of Bethany as a servant removed the cape she’d had draped over around her shoulders.
When he’d collected her from her chamber earlier, he’d noticed how the color of her gown made her skin glow, he’d noticed the firm round tops of her bosoms revealed by the low-cut bodice. And her legs, of course, he’d been distracted by the peek she’d given him of her ankles and calves.
He had not, however, examined thebackof her dress—or lack thereof.
For a moment, he thought he’d not replaced her bodice properly in the carriage. But no, the back was essentially non-existent.
She caught him staring at her and raised her hands to her shoulders self-consciously. “Is it too much?” She mouthed the question.
Too much?
Chase blinked, taking hold of one of her hands and pulling her aside. “You look…” It wasn’t normal to find himself at a loss for words. In all the time the two of them had been acquainted, she’d been hiding herself beneath what he now realized had been somewhat matronly gowns.
Staring at her now, he was already counting the hours before they could get back to the business of consummating this marriage. Perhaps multiple times. Yes. Definitely more than once.
As long as she was up to it.
He’d have to make certain that she was.
