Lord and Lady Royston moved toward the dance floor. The musicians struck a chord, the guests clapped politely as their hosts took their places, and the dancing began.
“I need a sherry,” Tweedie said. “And my flask. I need my flask.”
Her nieces ignored her. Gwendolyn and Elise seemed as caught up in the magic of the night as Dara was. They watched the dancing, the servants carrying silver trays of crystal glasses, the fluttering of fans, the happiness of friends greeting each other.
They stood, until Elise asked, “What do we do now?”
Thatwas a good question. They were in a room full of people they did not know. People who were busy talking to each other and not paying any attention to the Lanscarr sisters.
Well, that wasn’t completely true. Several gentlemen eyed Elise and Gwendolyn, but Dara knew that unless they were properly introduced, then that was probably all that could happen.
“Tweedie, look around. Do you recognize anyone you know from your days in London?” Dara prodded.
“From close to thirty years ago?” Tweedie shookher head. “If they are here, they look as old as I do.” She glanced around. “No one looks as old as I do.”
Dara frowned. She noticed that along the sides of the room were the mothers with daughters to launch in Society. The available young women were cooling their heels, envious of those of their number who had already been asked to dance. Their mothers surveyed the room with the ferociousness of hawks on the lookout for fresh prey. Or rivals. Several gazes narrowed when they saw the Lanscarr sisters.
“Oh, look,” Tweedie said. “There is Lady Byrne.”
Elise’s gaze hardened. “And her daughters are on the dance floor.”
Gwendolyn and Dara followed the direction she was looking. Helen and Sophie had partners who were not very attractive. One gentleman did not dance well at all, and the other was as wide as he was tall. However, Lady Byrne stood to the side, watching her daughters as if they were the most beautiful creatures in the room.
And they were dancing while the Lanscarr sisters could only watch.
Elise made a sound of disgust before turning to Dara. “I know what you are thinking, and the answer is no.”
“What am I thinking?”
“That we should cozy up to Lady Byrne,” Gwendolyn said. “The answer is no.”
“I know she is mean-spirited and evil, but we can’t just stand here,” Dara said in desperation. “If she introduces us to just one person, then we can make our way from there.”
“Perhaps a better plan would be to learn who had us included on the guest list,” Gwendolyn said. “I doubt if it was Lady Byrne. We also know it wasn’t Lord and Lady Royston.” All day, as the sisters had been preparing for the evening, they had wondered about who their mysterious benefactor was.
“Actually, I would think our hostess should introduce us to the other guests,” Elise said. “Isn’t that a rule, Dara?”
“Possibly,” Dara hedged, uncertain what the proper etiquette was.
“I will say, Elise made an impression,” Tweedie chimed in. “Lord Royston keeps eyeing you.” Elise gave a small shudder.
Gwendolyn spoke. “What of Lady Whitby? Perhaps she was the one?”
“I thought she might be as well,” Elise answered. “I’ve been looking for her in this crowd, and I haven’t seen her yet. She might not be here.”
“Lady Byrne sees us,” Gwendolyn warned, and then added with delight, “Look at the scowl on her face. She definitely wasn’t the one who invited us.”
Elise’s response was to wave cheerily. Lady Byrne looked away as if she hadn’t seen them.
Instead of being offended, Elise and Gwendolyn almost fell into each other laughing—loudly. Something Dara had warned themnotto do. Except that it was comical to see Lady Byrne try to ignore them. Her “cut direct” wasn’t insulting. She just appeared silly and spiteful.
“I fear we might never know who wished us invited—” Dara started, and then stopped as the strangest sensation swept over her. An awareness. She experienced it from the depth of her being to the tingling of the hairs at the nape of her neck.
She whipped her head around, searching—and sawhim. Mr. Brogan.He was here.Tall, leanly handsome, and obviously popular. Other women eyed him while their husbands or dancing partners did what they must to reclaim their attention.
He must have just arrived. Dara would have known if he had been here before. She was that keenly aware of him. He was speaking to a gentleman who looked like the prime minister.
And then he turned as if he caught sight of Dara. Their gazes held. He smiled.
