A lopsided smile lifted Livy’s lips. “If it is the gentleman we have spoken of before, that is well within your rights. Showing your hand of cards more openly isn’t scheming if that is what you are afraid of.”
Yes, but her list of ways to disable Algenon’s careful defenseswascalculated. Especially since she’d recently added getting him alone to the list. How would she explain that one if anyone got their hands on the blue paper she had folded in her pocket?
“As long as you remember he has a choice in all of this, and you are not forcing a proposal out of him, I think it is a grand thing. A little urging could be just what Al needs.”
Javenia wrinkled her nose. She’d never liked Algenon’s nickname. Maybe because Eddie had given it to him. She chewed on the corner of her lip, staring absently at the yellow wallpaper with cream roses just past Livy’s head.
“Did you come by yourself?”
Livy narrowed her gaze in confusion. “Not exactly. Eddie continued on to Blackthorn to see Al before he left.”
So he’d be back soon to collect Livy. What would he say to Algenon? Would he encourage him in her direction or, like years ago, use her as fodder for his jokes? She clenched her teeth. They were not the same people they were at fifteen, she reminded herself. She knew she needed to let what had happened go, but it still poked at the sore parts of her heart.
“Javenia, are you well? You are not usually so disjointed.”
She shook her head. “Forgive me, Livy. I’d not meant to be so insipid in my conversation. I fear the knowledge that I’m to spend months without you or Melior’s levelheaded company is wearing on me. Susannah is all fine and good, but she’s not as experienced with Society’s taciturn and vindictive nature. I’ll be lost without Melior’s intelligence and your wisdom.”
“Nonsense. You will do just fine. You managed multiple seasons before either Melior or I entered Society.”
Except she hadn’t. Her disastrous first and second seasons were proof of that. How much did Livy know? She knew a lot about everyone, but unless Algenon had broken his promise, not another soul knewhow awfulit had been… unless of course, Duncan had opened his lying mouth.
No, he wouldn’t have. Algenon had made certain of that.
A mischievous smile lit Livy’s face, pulling Javenia from her dark thoughts. “Besides, without Nate and Eddie in the way, you will only have John to compete with for Al’s attention.”
Javenia smirked. “Limiting my competition. I like how you think. But might I remind you they are all married and do not look good in a skirt?”
Livy’s laughter again filled the room.
Javenia smiled, then sobered. “I will still have to compete with all the pretty fresh faces. They are bound to distract him with all their lovely gowns and fancy hair.”
“I have watched Al for three seasons. He might pay attention to fashion, but there is only one woman that truly catches his fancy.”
The directness of both Livy’s gaze and words burrowed deep in Javenia’s soul. Livy was the most observant person she’d ever met. If she said Algenon only had eyes for her, then it had to be true.
“Thank you, Livy.”
Livy reached out a hand to her and Javenia took it. “But it would not hurt to have dresses made by the best designers. You know how much Al loves a fine gown.”
Javenia laughed. It was already on her list.
Algenon let out a sigh of relief when he stepped out of the carriage in London. The four-story townhouse rose above him—his prison for the next nine months, with only a small reprieve at Christmastide. How he hated Town.
No one would know it, but only two things gave him reprieve from the monotonous rounds of balls and parties: Observing Parliament, and the opportunity to study the new materials and fashions of London. What had started as a way to defy his father had become a puzzle to solve. Each season he tried to predict the next year’s trends, but every year Society surprised him with its ridiculousness.
This year, towering cravats and scandalously thin dresses seemed to be à la mode, if the couples walking down the street were any sign. He tore his gaze away from a frightfully see-through white dress and directed his attention back to the steps, holding his arm out to Phillipa.
She leaned in and lowered her voice. “I can see right through to her petticoats. And why a spencer in this cold?”
His thoughts exactly. The wind caught hold of the young woman’s gown and pulled it flush against her body. Algenon averted his gaze, pulling Phillipa up the steps and out of the frigid air. The lengths women would go to catch a man’s attention still astounded him.
Not that he could blame the poor souls. Having twelve sisters had taught him how frightfully unfair life was for the fairer sex. There were only two socially acceptable paths for a young lady:marry well or become independently wealthy. Since the second depended completely on fate, most young women had to apply their efforts toward the first option.
He sighed as the butler took his greatcoat.
Phillipa nodded as if he’d spoken his relief aloud. “I heartily agree, it’s nice to be out of the carriage.” Her gaze strayed up the stairs to the disappearing form of their father and stepmother.
The atmosphere had been unusually tense, with conversation rather stilted as they swayed back and forth in the carriage. At first, he’d assumed his stepmother’s downcast spirit must be dampening his father’s mood, but when he snapped at Phillipa for asking too many questions, Algenon realized something was off. His father rarely ever raised his voice to the women in their family.
