Last year, Sister Agatha, the abbess at the Society of St. Margery and one of Mama’s closest friends, had passed away peacefully in her sleep. Although Gigi had only met Sister Agatha a handful of times, she’d felt the strength of the bond between her mother and the older lady with the kind brown eyes. The loss had hit Mama hard; for weeks, she hadn’t seemed herself. Finally, Papa had insisted on taking her on a relaxing trip to the Cotswolds, and Gigi was relieved to see the return of her mama’s sparkle.
“I have missed you, dear.” Mama squeezed her hand. “And your brothers. You shall have to catch me up on the latest developments.”
All her life, Gigi had confided in her mama. However, her relationship with Conrad was complicated. As understanding and loving as Mama was, she was also a paragon. She was everything a true lady ought to be, and Society revered her for it. Unfortunately, that made it more difficult for Gigi to confess her own improper inclinations.
Luckily, she was interrupted by Ethan and Xenia. Ethan cut a dashing figure in his stark evening clothes. He was the perfect foil for his wife, who was as bright as a flame in a gown of crimson velvet.
“That dress is most becoming, Xenia, dear,” Mama said with a smile. “Ethan, you shall be fighting off gentlemen who wish to dance with your wife.”
Ethan looked rather smug. “Xenia promised her dances to me.”
“You mustn’t monopolize your wife,” Mama chided. “No more than two dances—at most.”
“But I don’t wish to dance with anyone but Ethan.” Unused to the intricacies of Society’s rules, Xenia looked puzzled. “Why can I only dance twice with him?”
“Any more dances and people will say you are overly devoted and living in each other’s pockets,” Gigi explained.
“Oh.” Xenia’s brown eyes widened. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” Ethan said.
“Yes,” Gigi and Mama said at the same time.
Papa returned with the champagne.
“Marcus, do tell Ethan he mustn’t monopolize Xenia’s dances,” Mama begged.
“Relinquishing one’s favorite dance partner is a necessary fact of life, son.” Papa distributed the glasses. “However, I do have a suggestion.”
Ethan raised his brows.
“Claim the waltzes,” Papa advised. “The longer, the better.”
“Really, darling. What kind of example are you setting?” Blushing, Mama said, “Has anyone seen Owen?”
“We saw him when we were coming in,” Xenia said. “He was fiddling with the hedges. Said they weren’t quite right.”
“Some deer trampled Miss Letty’s garden, and Owen fixed the damage,” Gigi clarified. “He was quite the hero.”
Papa cleared his throat. “It’s nice to know the lad is making himself useful.”
“Owen always preferred being outdoors.” Mama’s smile was poignant. “He loved climbing trees and was fascinated with how things grew. Remember how he used to follow the groundskeeper around at the country seat?”
“I had forgotten,” Ethan replied. “James and I teased him, calling him ‘Capability Harrington.’”
Gigi had been too young to remember those days. With a pang, she wished she’d had more time with Owen before he’d gone off to war. Better yet, she wished he hadn’t gone to war…wished he could be the happy, carefree, and rambunctious boy he’d once been. Yet confiding in Conrad had given her greater clarity when it came to her family. There were things she could not change. But she would always be there for them, should they seek her help.
James sauntered over. As ever, he was the epitome of the perfect heir with his precise cravat and elegant tailoring.
“Congratulations on your latest project, little sister,” he drawled. “Once again, you’ve outdone yourself.”
Before Gigi could thank him, Mama cut in.
“Dearest, who is that lady in green?” she asked casually. “The one you were chatting with by the pump. I do not believe I am acquainted.”
Gigi hadn’t noticed James talking to anyone, but now she darted a glance over to the water station. A statuesque brunette in emerald-green taffeta was sipping on a glass of water as a circle of gentlemen vied for her attention.
Above his pristine collar, James’s jaw turned slightly ruddy. “Her name is Lady Morgana Vernon. I just met her myself. She had difficulty with the pump, so I offered my assistance.”
