“Silly girl. Do stop that action with your fan. It looks like you are swatting at insects. You have missed an opportunity.”
“I declare you wish to live vicariously through me, Aunt.”
Her aunt snorted. “A widow must make her way in the world. He talks now to Maria Broadstairs. See how she laughs with him and how elegantly she employs her fan.”
“It’s common knowledge that the duchess adores her husband. She merely likes to flirt.”
Her aunt’s eyebrows rose. “Have you never enjoyed a lighthearted dalliance?”
Althea sighed. “It would be dishonest of me to encourage anyone when I am not in the least interested in them.”
“Flirting is one of the few enjoyable pastimes a woman can participate in without censure.” Aunt Catherine shook her head despairingly. “I believe you need lessons, Althea.”
Althea shook her head at her aunt with a bemused smile, excused herself, and went to speak to good friends, Hetty, the vivacious redheaded wife of Baron Fortescue and Sibella, the smart, dark-haired beauty who married John, the Marquess of Strathairn two years ago.
“I watched Lord Montsimon approach you,” Hetty said with a grin. “He had a very determined look in his eye.”
Althea shook her head, refusing to be drawn. She was aware that her friends wanted to see her marry again. “He dances well.”
“Althea!” Sibella’s green eyes danced. “Is that all you can say about the man practically every woman in the room is ogling?” She laughed. “Even I can admit that apart from John, and Guy, of course, he really is one of the most handsome men in the ton.”
“And charming,” Hetty said.
“And rather nice, as well,” Sibella added.
“He is a rake and part of the king’s set,” Althea said. “He wastes his time pursuing me.”
“What a shame,” Hetty said with a sigh.
“Indeed,” Sibella agreed.
Althea laughed. “You shall not turn my head, ladies. Tell me, how are your delightful children?”
