Hyacinth knew. Somehow she knew before the maid retreated to fetch the visitors who would walk across the threshold.
And then he was there, as if she'd summoned him with her thoughts. With her yearning.
Emma followed in his wake with one of her usual sunny smiles on her face.
“We've come to see how you're recovering,” Emma announced. She gestured to her brother. “He’s feeling dreadfully guilty, and I’ve been haranguing him nonstop for not telling me what happened until you’d already left the ball.”
Sir Tristan stepped forward, eyes fixed on her foot before looking into her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m well. I promise.” Hyacinth planted her feet on the carpet and stood. “As you see. All recovered.”
It twinged, but the swelling was gone and she could move about easily enough.
Emma moved to stand closer to Hyacinth, taking her hands. “Then you’ll be well enough to come to Kent for the house party? It won’t be the same without you there.”
“We all plan to come,” Hyacinth assured.
“And we’re all looking forward to it,” Marigold added, then shifted her gaze to Sir Tristan. “And how do you propose to make it up to my sister, Sir Tristan, for stepping on her toes?”
“Mari.” Hyacinth’s cheeks began to warm immediately.
Sir Tristan smiled, seemingly abashed. “I thought Miss Bridewell”—he directed his gaze toward Hyacinth—“might wish to see my laboratory, since she’s interested in paleontology too.”
“I would love to.” The prospect made her breathless.
“I hope you know how dreadful I feel about last evening.”
Hyacinth tried to wave him off, but he wouldn’t have it.
“I know you said you've forgiven me, but I feel bad all the same. I’m glad you’ll let us host you all at Oakhill for a fortnight.”
“Perhaps you’ll even be up for dancing,” Emma put in.
Hyacinth drew her over to the tea tray, ostensibly to offer her a cup of tea, but she leaned in and whispered, “Were you able to convince him about Lord Cartwright?”
Emma beamed. “I was because Alexander’s aunt is coming too. She’s a friend of my aunt’s and has agreed to help host and serve as chaperone as needed.”
“Wonderful.” Hyacinth had to force herself not to continually flick her gaze in Tristan’s direction as he spoke to Marigold.
“Who else is coming?” She couldn’t help but wonder if Tristan’s friend and his cousin would be in attendance.
“The Naughtons, or rather Lord Selwick and his sister, Sybil Naughton. Tristan went to university with him. The Colliers, which includes Tristan’s friend, Lord Collier, and his cousin, Lady Felicia. And then Lady Hemphill and Alexander, Lord Cartwright, of course.”
Hyacinth’s jaw felt tight and she’d curled her hands into the fabric of her skirt. “Lord Collier’s cousin?—”
“Lady Felicia.” Emma gave Hyacinth a tight smile and leaned a bit closer. “I can’t say much, but I do have my worries.” She glanced back at her brother. “I fear Tristan may simply marry her to please our father.”
Tristan strolled over, seeming to recognize that he was the topic of their conversation.
“I know you won’t tell me what you two were whispering about, but I hope it wasn’t about what a terrible dancer I am.” He glanced at Hyacinth.
“You were excellent,” she told him.
What she wanted to say is that she’d remember that dance for the rest of her days.
“There you go being kind again.”
Emma’s brows quirked up. “What’s this? Hyacinth is always kind.”
