The twins stepped forward and bowed elegantly—briefly to Harriet, but noticeably longer to Elizabeth. She blushed prettily at the attention, then raised her chin and smiled.
Her blue eyes widened. “Oh, my, you are—”
“Twins,” Jasper interjected smoothly. “Though I am the elder by several minutes and by far the more charming.”
“Poppycock!” Jason nudged his brother aside. “ ’Tis a poor fellow indeed who must boost his regard by telling everyone how charming he is supposed to be.”
“ ’Tis not boastful if it is the truth. Do you not agree, Miss Sainthill?” Jasper’s eyes twinkled as he stared at the diminutive blond.
“Just look at them,” Harriet exclaimed. “Scrapping like a pair of dogs over a bone. We have been in town less than a week, and already I am exhausted from trying to keep Elizabeth from falling prey to a steady stream of charming rogues. Thetonis fairly crawling with them.”
“Elizabeth is a sensible girl. It will take much to turn her head.” Meredith lifted her fan to her lips and whispered behind it. “And I have heard from a most reliable source you are doing a more than adequate job of keeping the worst of them at bay.”
Harriet smiled. “Thank heavens.” She touched her nose with her lace handkerchief, and a whiff of lavender perfume drifted toward Meredith. “Faith told us you had gotten married rather suddenly. I confess I was shocked. When you visited us but a few months ago, you so adamantly declared you would remain single and independent.”
Meredith felt the tips of her ears begin to redden as she silently cursed Harriet for having such an excellent memory. “Circumstances change, sometimes beyond our control. I married the Marquess of Dardington a few weeks ago.”
“A rather surprising turn of events. I don’t believe I’ve ever met the marquess. Would you be so kind as to introduce us?”
Meredith stiffened. Harriet had already loudly complained about the endless gossip of theton.She must therefore be very aware of the state of Meredith’s much talked about marriage. “My husband seldom attends these evenings.”
“Pity.” There were a few moments of strained, awkward silence. “Are you not going to ask me about my fiancee?”
“No. That would be cruel.” It was, of course, exactly what Meredith wanted to do, but already knowing the answer was too much like rubbing salt in an open wound. Any doting or even interested fiancée would at least be in the vicinity of his intended, yet Julian Wingate was nowhere to be seen. Since they were at the home of one of his relatives, it was certain he was in attendance—and pointedly ignoring his fiancée.
“I fear you and I have more in common than either of us would care to acknowledge, Harriet.”
“Gracious, you have done it again!” Harriet exclaimed.
“But I said nothing—”
Harriet held up her hand to forestall any protests. “Precisely. ’Tis bad enough your beauty attracts men of all ages while I have the sort of face one forgets even while looking at it. But you also show empathy and consideration to those who clearly do not deserve it. In my eyes, that has always been your worst fault, Meredith. You are better than I.” Harriet gave a self-deprecating laugh. “ ’Tis rather maddening.”
The odd, uncomfortable silence returned. Thankfully Jasper interrupted by asking Harriet to dance. Since Jason was already leading Elizabeth out to the dance floor, Harriet eagerly seized the opportunity to keep a close eye on the younger girl.
Meredith’s mood calmed and settled once she was alone. She took a moment to survey the room, to admire the lovely glow from the beeswax candles that made everything sparkle and shimmer. It was all part of the illusion, for this fragile appearance of glistening perfection would disappear as soon as dawn approached and revealed all the true imperfections of the room and the people within it.
A sudden twinge caught Meredith unaware, that shiver of heightened awareness she sometimes experienced in a crowded room when she was standing alone. Meredith shifted her feet and looked about cautiously, expecting at any moment to meet the eye of a bold rake or disapproving matron pointedly observing her.
But there was no one. All the guests she saw were involved with others and focused on their own conversations. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping to chase away the flush of uncomfortable emotions. Was this a belated reaction to her conversation with Harriet?
Meredith rejected the notion nearly as quickly as she had thought of it. Given her past history with her former rival, this had been a calm, almost pleasant meeting.
Meredith pressed her gloved hand to her forehead. It was damp with perspiration, though the room was not overly warm. For one insane moment, Meredith thought Trevor was at the ball, for being within the same room as her husband often brought on a similar shimmering of awareness.
Yet as Meredith again scanned the room anxiously, she revised her opinion. That pattering of excitement, that burst of anticipation when Trevor was near her was markedly missing. She felt deep in her bones that the marquess was not here.
Yet the unease of being closely watched persisted.
Her eyes darted anxiously about the room, but no one appeared to be paying her the least bit of attention. Meredith’s chest grew tight and she found herself clenching her fan so tightly one of the fragile wooden slats snapped in half.
Shaking off her nervous twittering, Meredith struggled to focus her thoughts and calm her emotions. She was acting like a ninny! She was standing in the midst of a crowded ballroom, surrounded by more than a hundred people. It was perfectly safe. There was no one to harm her.
The strains of instruments being tuned caught her attention and provided the perfect diversion. A new set of partners would soon be forming in the center of the ballroom. Filled with resolution, Meredith went in search of the duke. It was time for her to dance.
He stood behind the marble column and watched her twitter and shake.She knows she is being observed! And it disturbs her. How marvelous.
Her fear and discomfort brought him a moment of pleasure on this otherwise dismal night. He had felt restless and edgy, a need he recognized within himself, a need that cried out to be assuaged. But he could not leave the mansion. The duke’s ball had filled every inch of the house. There were too many people about, guests and servants, too many eyes that might see what was none of their concern.
