“Will.” He couldn’t keep the frost from his tone. It wasn’t fair to blame his siblings for last night’s exchange with Fiona. But they sure as hell hadn’t made the evening easier.
“You also received a summons?” Will asked. “Did Simmons tell you what it was about?”
Edward raised his eyebrows. “Char didn’t inform you?” Well, at least he got this revenge. He pushed open the door and the two brothers entered the room.
“Oh, hell no.” William turned on his heel and walked back out the door.
Edward was tempted to follow, but such a move would certainly reach the ears and lips of London’s gossips, because in front of him was a semicircle of debutantes, each seated in front of an easel with watercolors on a tray beside them.
At the front of the semicircle were two chairs and an array of fruits, books, and other props. He had not agreed to the props.
“William!” Charlotte called as she hurried after him, leaving Edward alone facing the group of girls with varying degrees of nervousness on their faces.
“Ladies.” He bowed a touch deeper than normal, taking the extra second to determine what he could possibly say in this utterly absurd situation. “You all look lovely” was the best he could muster.
Charlotte reentered, hands on her hips, with an annoyed expression. “My apologies, ladies. It seems my younger brother has a pressing engagement that I was unaware of. But for now, His Grace is here.” She smiled widely at the women present.
Charlotte turned to Edward. “I was just telling our guests how excited you were at the opportunity to be their muse.”
Excited was not the adjective he would use. However, his sister had suggested it as a way to get to know some of the latest crop of marriageable women outside of a ballroom setting, and if it would help him find a suitable duchess sooner, then he would grit his teeth and bear it, despite how ill it made him.
“Yes, my sister is full of ideas. Iloveher for them.” He walked into the center of the room and took a seat in one of the two chairs. “No fruit,” he muttered to his sister as she brushed his shoulders and adjusted his cravat.
Charlotte ignored him and placed a pineapple in his lap. “There,” she said to the women. “We are almost ready. We are just waiting on—”
Fiona entered, her attention on a notebook in her hands. “William said you wanted to see me?”
A lump formed in Edward’s throat and he skipped a breath.
She looked up and stopped dead in her tracks once she realized what was waiting for her. Slowly, she started to back out.
Not willing to let another model off the hook, Charlotte took Fi by the arm and guided her toward the chair next to Edward. “Thank you so much for volunteering, Mr. McTavish. Helping one’s friends is such an important endeavor, don’t you think?”
From the look on her face, Edward was fairly sure that in this situation,no, Fiona didnotthink. But she was also not about to embarrass Charlotte in front of these women.
As Charlotte delivered a quick explanation to the gathered debutantes, Fiona settled into the chair next to him. The tension between them was palpable. Fiona leaned away from him, with her ankles and arms crossed in a clear demonstration of exactly how she felt about the situation. Edward leaned one ankle on top of his knee and held the blasted pineapple as formally as he could.
Smile, Charlotte mouthed silently as she peered over her easel. He stretched his lips wide, but considering the shake of his sister’s head, it did not resemble a smile.
With the ladies all engrossed in early sketches, he took a moment to survey the chits in front of him—that had, after all, been the purpose of this hellish situation. A couple were from his mother’s list, a couple were suggestions his sister had made, and one was his own request, Lady Marianne Haddington.
All of them paled in comparison to Fiona. They were traditionally lovely—pale skin, delicate features—but they were very, very young. Not one was past the age of twenty, he was sure of it. Which was the norm, he supposed, when it came to society marriages. But the thought of bedding one gave him no pleasure.
Miss Ashby was turning splotchy pink merely from looking at him.
Lady Anne was notoriously political—a rare and admirable trait in a woman, but not when her politics were the complete opposite of his.
Lady Eva simply looked bored. She was by all counts an eligible young lady, but in three seasons she’d yet to show any hint of interest in the marriage mart.
Lady Marianne was the only one who looked as though she was genuinely enjoying herself. She even managed to induce a shy giggle from Miss Ashby. When Edward caught her eye as she looked at him, she didn’t blush and turn away. She gave him a smile and a small nod, as though she could sense that this was every bit as awkward for him as it was for them.
If only she knew the half of it. Luckily, from their angle, none of the women would be able to see the red flush creeping up the back of Fiona’s neck.
“My brother is very much looking forward to hosting dinner parties,” Charlotte said. “Lady Anne, you hosted several on behalf of your father last year, did you not?”
Lady Anne’s pink splotches turned a violent shade of crimson. “I did. I’ve also held three dinner parties in the past month to welcome various members of the family as they return to London.”
“And what did you serve?” Charlotte asked.
