“Oh, I shall. But I’m sure it will be a most uneventful evening.”
Arthur Standish lookedup from reading the small, flowing script covering a single sheet of stationery. He looked puzzled.
“Wherever did you manage to get this? I don’t understand …”
Hammerton took the paper carefully by one of the corners and slid it back into the drawer of his desk for the moment. “It’s of no importance where I got it—the person who copied it is a master at what he does.”
He raised his voice a notch. “What matters is that even Miss Chilton would be hard pressed to say whether she had indeed penned it herself—I assure you, the handwriting and signature are perfect.”
The explanation didn’t entirely banish the look of confusion from Standish’s face and Hammerton had to rein in his mounting impatience. His cousin really was inordinately slow-witted not to realize what was being planned.
Thank heavens he didn’t have to depend on the dolt for anything other than blind obedience.
Hammerton began drumming his fingertips on the polished desktop. “I will explain it fully in due time. But right now, we have other things to get in readiness. By the end of the evening, our problems with Miss Chilton will be over.”
Twelve
Thank heavens there were some familiar faces in the crowded, overheated ballroom, thought Alex, spotting several of her botanical friends as she stood in the arched entryway to look around before reluctantly joining the crush.
The space felt cramped and confining due to Lady Hopkinton’s sad lack of taste. The flowers were too garish and overpowering, filling the air with a cloying scent that only accentuated the heaviness of the thick damask drapes that blocked every window.
Even the music sounded off-key …
Repressing a sigh, Alex began moving through the shadows flitting along the perimeter of the dancefloor, intent on joining her friends. Perhaps Mr. Simpson and his wife could be convinced to leave this dreary gathering early?—
“Miss Chilton?”
She turned.
“Are you as uncomfortable as I am?” asked Lady Cecilia Ashton, a mischievous twinkle sparking beneath her lashes. “Please come join me for a glass of ratafia punch in one of theless-crowded side salons—before I say something rude to our hostess.”
Alex bit back a laugh.
“Ah, thank heavens—a kindred soul.” Cecilia took her arm before she could reply and edged toward one of the side doorways. “This way.”
Though surprised—and little intimidated by the invitation—Alex let herself be led along.
“Have you read the recent article in The Lady’s Magazine on Humphry Repton’s garden design philosophy?” asked Cecilia after signaling for a footman to bring over two glasses of punch. “There were some interesting observations …”
Alex found herself pleasantly surprised at how knowledgeable her companion was on the subject, as well as how pithy her comments were. Losing her shyness, she voiced some of her own observations, and it was gratifying to see a spark of understanding and amusement in the other woman’s eyes.
Was it possible that the two of them might form a friendship, despite the differences in their social standing?
There was a brief lull as Lady Ashton selected a small plate of canapés, and then she suddenly changed the subject. “Speaking of gardens, Sebastian told me that he greatly enjoyed visiting Kew Gardens with you.”
Alex nearly choked on a sip of her punch when she realized to whom Lady Ashton was referring.
“H-He did?” she managed to reply, hoping that the heat she felt stealing over her wasn’t causing her face to flame.
“Yes. In fact, I haven’t seen him appear so happy since … well, since before Jeremy was killed on the Peninsula.” A pause. “I take it you have heard about that tragedy?”
Alex nodded.
Lady Ashton’s eyes narrowed. “The truth has been twisted by vicious rumors,” she said quietly. “Sebastian pretends to paythem no heed, but I know that they cut him to the quick. He cared for Jeremy very much.” She let her voice trail off, an angry look darkening her features.
Alex liked her even more for her passionate loyalty.
“In any case,” continued Lady Ashton. “I think we have you to thank for the change in his demeanor. He is averydear friend to me …”
