“It was in a bag,” Beatrice said by way of defense.
“Are you lot going to dance?” asked Nanny Beryl. “Elsewise, I’m going back to my room to put my feet up.”
“You had best get started,” Amity said, “before she departs.”
The duke put his hand out to take Charlotte’s, and Mr. Carson did the same with Beatrice. They showed Charlotte the mazurka, then learned the lancier and the redowa before the duke took his wife into his arms and waltzed her around the room to everyone’s applause.
“I’m so happy for them,” Beatrice said.
“I want that happiness, too,” Charlotte whispered loudly on one side of her.
“I wouldn’t mind a duchess of my own,” Mr. Carson said on her other side.
Beatrice rolled her eyes. “The duke didn’t choose a duchess,” she reminded him. “He chose a chocolatier.” Nevertheless, she felt the same as Charlotte.How wonderful it would be to have a man look at one with such love.She sighed.
“That was a large sigh, Miss Rare-Foure.”
“I cannot believe I am going to say this, Mr. Carson, but I cannot wait for the Season to begin.”
Chapter Seven
Greer directed hishired hackney to the Rare-Foure residence on Baker Street. Tonight was their first foray into high society. Happily, it would be on familiar territory, at the Duke and Duchess of Pelham’s home. He didn’t feel nervous so much as anticipatory. He might meet his future wife that very evening.
The Foure butler opened the door after a long pause, but Greer was used to the man. This was his third visit in as many weeks. He didn’t know a lot about butlers, as his mother and friends in New York City more often had housekeepers or maids who answered their doors. But he did know that the Foure butler was far more casual than the Pelhams’ butler and apt to go missing entirely.
The Foures didn’t appear to mind, and almost seemed to think it a favor the man ever answered the door at all.
That night, Greer didn’t let the butler take his hat or coat since they were due at St. James’s Place within the half hour.
“If you’ll please tell the Rare-Foure sisters I’ve come to collect them,” he instructed the man, who nodded and wandered off down the hallway.
While waiting, he walked in circles on the polished floor of the foyer, thinking about the dance steps he’d memorized, until a herd of buffalo came charging down the staircase. The herd turned out to be merely Beatrice and Charlotte. They came to a sudden stop at the foot of the stairs, looking surprised to see him.
“You two could wake the dead,” Greer told them, noticing their finery. The toffee-maker wore the blue gown with silver lace and ribbon he’d seen her in at the dressmaker’s, and she was easily the most fetching woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. Her younger sister wore pale green with cream trim. Both had low necklines, not that he was staring, and the shortest of sleeves, displaying their graceful arms. And each had a spray of flowers tucked into her hair. The effect was enchanting.
He swallowed. “I hope I am dressed well enough to escort you two lovely ladies.”
