“I’d given up hope, too.” Gwendolyn held the material up to herself. “However, everyone is whispering that he will be there.”
Elise sat on a nearby chair. The blue was a gorgeous fabric, but, “I am not interested in a duke. Young or old,” she assured her sisters.
Dara tilted her head speculatively. “It doesn’t hurt to look.”
“And you will be with us,” Gwendolyn pointed out, holding the blue up to the light. “In a lovely new dress for the last ball of the Season. And if you don’t want to dance with what must be the only young duke in London, then you can have the task of keeping Tweedie out of the punch.”
“It might be easier to dance with the duke, even an old one,” Elise responded, and her sisters laughed in agreement. Tweedie did like to sneak from the punch bowl.
And in the end, the promise of a lovely new dress and an evening with her family was too hard to resist. Elise agreed to go to the ball.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As the sun follows its course, may you follow me.
Irish blessing
Lord and Lady Woolfolk’s ball was a crush. The coach carrying the Brogans and the Lanscarrs seemed to sit still for the better part of an hour before they were able to pull up to the front doors.
Once they did get inside, everyone seemed in excellent spirits. Soon, those who had country houses would adjourn to them to prepare for the hunting season, and those who didn’t hoped for invitations to those houses. Friends who might not see each other for a while were happy for the opportunity to spend time with each other before they left Town.
Elise knew she looked well. Molly and Gwendolyn had both worked on her hair. “We need to set the rumors to rest that you were somehow unwell,” Gwendolyn had said. “I also want youto outshine not only the Byrne sisters but all those jealous debutantes who had whispered mean things.”
Surprisingly, Elise found she didn’t care about the gossips.
Although, as she admired herself in the full-length glass, she would like Kit to see her this way. The gown her sisters had created for her was lovely. The skirts were of delicate layers of the light blue muslin; the low-cut bodice was of a marine velvet. Its short sleeves showed her shoulders off to perfection.
She chose to wear no adornment. Not even in her hair, which was piled on her head to fall to her shoulders in a cascade of curls. This simplicity made her feel as if she was signaling to one and all that she was not in search of a suitor. She had her man.
Of course, her sisters could not leave well enough alone. Gwendolyn wanted to pin flowers in Elise’s hair. Dara wished to loan her a silver locket Michael had given her.
She refused both. She finished her outfit with her long white kid gloves. She didn’t even bother with a fan, although the evening promised to be warm.
Once they had finally stepped across the threshold of the Woolfolk residence, Elise wished she could go right back outside. With all of the guests crowded in, the house retained the day’s heat. The warmth mixed with the scent of humanbodies wearing their favorite perfumes and colognes, the burning wax of the candles, and the aroma of the supper being prepared for later.
How she missed the green of the woods.
As she waited her turn in the receiving line, she caught a glimpse of envious looks being thrown toward her and Gwendolyn by other young women. The animosity was almost laughable when, really, none of them were guilty of anything more than trying to survive in Society.
She understood their fears. But her perspective had changed. Before she’d run away, she’d assumed this was how lifehadto be as they all vied for the same small circle of suitors.
Now she knew, there was a world of possibilities waiting beyond class and strictures. Titles and money were lovely things... but they couldn’t make her feel whole, not the way Kit had.
She knew Dara understood. To a point. Dara had married well. Very well. Her sweet sister who dearly loved the rules of Society might not endorse the idea of Elise choosing a wanderer. A ruffian. A nobody.
Or would she?
Her glance strayed to where her sister and her husband stood talking to two loud, braying men with the air of politicians. The men had charged up to him the minute he’d walked through the door. Michael hadn’t even started through the receiving line.
Elise noticed that Dara, the strongest of all of them, had covertly reached for her husband’s hand.
With his attention on the gentlemen, his hand grasped hers.
Elise stared at that tenuous touch, and she knew how much it meant. She yearned for it.
At last, they were announced. They stepped forward to greet their host and hostess.
“Miss Lanscarr, I heard you have been ill,” Lady Woolfolk said in greeting.
