“Well, they were.” She crossed her arms and flounced back into the cushions. “It has been months of darkness, and while I’m thrilled that my sense of smell has improved, I’m rather frustrated that my equally improved sense of hearing has had to put up with Winnie’s incessant breathing.”
“Mean.” With no cushion to toss—he’d had them removed last night—she shoved Jac with a foot.
For a moment, he took solace in the idea that they would soon both grow up and get married and the house would be quiet. Solace quickly turned to sadness. They would both grow up and get married, and then his house would be quiet.
He jerked his head toward the door. “Get your things quickly, or I will shop on my own and make do without your advice.”
Winnie raced from the room.
“What advice do you need, brother?” Jac asked, taking his hands. “I can help from here, surely. You do not need to take her shopping.”
“I have four hours to inject more color into my wardrobe.”Eleanor had noticed when he’d added a yellow handkerchief to his attire weeks back. It had made her smile. She’d said nothing about it since, but that was to be expected. One hardly compliments an opponent in the middle of battle.
“You want more than the yellow handkerchief that I’ve yet to see? Oooh. Do say you will buy more jackets. Peacock green looks so dashing and it would contrast nicely with your eyes.”
He shuddered. “Not a jacket. And not peacock green.” He might be more than a duke, but he was not a dandy. Besides, Eleanor had kissed him last night, and that small pop of yellow was all he’d been wearing.
“A waistcoat, perhaps?”
That was more like it. “A waistcoat or a necktie. Something that is modest. Something that a woman might find—”
“Miss Wright?” Jac interjected. Her entire countenance brightened. She squeezed his hand more than was warranted, and he grunted. “Hassheinspired this daring change? Are you seeing her this afternoon? Do you have an assignation planned?”
He grinned and then tempered it. She was overly enthusiastic already. “It is not an assignation,” he said with what seriousness he could muster. “It is perfectly proper. She will be at Lady Anne’s garden party, as will I.” He would spend the time showing her that she could enjoy his company as much as she enjoyed the Captain’s.
“Lady Anne invited you? I thought she was terrified of you.”
That gave him pause. All season, he’d accompanied Winnie. She had taken care of their invitations and their schedule, presenting him with an itinerary to approve at the beginning of each week. Lady Anne’s garden party had not been on that week’s list. “Do we need an invitation?”
Jac shrugged. “I suppose not. No one will turn you away, regardless of whether they want you there or not.”
At last, the two-faced nature of thetonwas working in his favor.
He kissed her forehead. “I will take you shopping the minute your bandages are removed. I promise.”
“Miss Wright, are you listening?” Lady Wharton had been leaning heavily on Eleanor’s arm as they crossed the manicured lawn. She pinched it, and Eleanor’s scattered attention returned to what she was supposed to be doing.
“Apologies, Your Ladyship.” Her mind had not accompanied her body out of the flat. It had stayed right there, in the spot where she’d kissed him. At least, she thought she’d kissed him. Last night had been rather a haze and determining truth from dream from imagination was proving difficult.
They were not far from the set of chairs that had been set up under a marquee. Cashmere rugs had been artfully thrown over wicker baskets. Tables of lemonade and sweet treats dotted the perimeter and beyond. Footmen carrying steaming pots of tea trailed like ants from the house to the garden.
“I asked if you had any insider information about the next Elizabeth Lewis book. It has been six years since her last.”
Eleanor shook her head. “I have not heard anything about it. I’m not sure if she is writing or if she used the proceeds of her first book to live a life of luxury in the south of France.”
Lady Whartonhmphed. “That would be selfish of her if she did so. I am waiting for the next one.”
“You and me both.” As she helped Lady Wharton navigatethe stone path, she scanned the lawn. A plethora of games had been set up. Sir Melton had already been finagled into bowls, but there was no one else she recognized. The closest refreshment tent was bustling, but none of the men helping themselves to food or drink were tall and dark and hewn from marble.
Peter had said he would meet her here,to be friendly. The peonies on her coffee table were evidence that his presence last night had not been a vivid dream brought on by the gin and the elderflower cordial that had sat in Eleanor’s pantry for far too long. Thus, it stood to reason that the memory of promising to meet her was likewise true.
“MissWright?” Her heart had done jumping jacks all morning. This time, Lady Wharton’s pinch would leave a bruise.
“Apologies, Your Ladyship. What were you saying?”
“I was asking why the Duke of Strafford is loitering near our chairs.”
Her eyes flew to the marquee, where Peter stood, casually talking to theton’s grande dames. He bore that good-humored grin she’d seen during their first encounter and rarely since. His demeanor was softer than it had been since their waltz.
