Well, this was what came of allowing Lachlan Ramsey to fuss about in her dressing closet. What didheknow about ladies’ ball gowns? Why, nothing at all. No man did.
Except…
This gown is yours. No one but you should dance in it.
His whisper, his warm breath against her ear—she’d dreamed of it, and of the softness in his eyes when they met hers in the glass.
It made her yearn for things she could never have.
“I blame those brothers of hers,” Lady Chase declared. “Scoundrels, the both of them. Oh, I imagine scoundrels do well enough in Scotland, but those brothers don’t know how to behave in proper society.”
Hyacinth sighed. She never should have let Lachlan Ramsey tempt her with the sky blue gown. If she’d sent him away as she should have, she wouldn’t be trapped in this carriage with her grandmother, and Lady Chase as bad-tempered as a bear with a thorn in its paw.
Or a bear deprived of its morning chocolate.
“Now Miss Ramsey is a sweet child, and genteel enough, but the elder brother, Hyacinth! Why, what need is there for him to be so large? And always with that frightening glower on his face! Well, well. I don’t wonder you mistook him for a murderer, dear. He has a felonious look about him.”
Lady Chase chattered on about Lachlan Ramsey’s scandalous proportions until they’d reached Grosvenor Square. Hyacinth half-expected to see Madame Bell’s carriage parked in the drive, and Madame’s assistant, Eliza, rushing about with pins in her mouth, carrying armfuls of silk, but the Grosvenor Street house was quiet.
Oddly so. An oppressive hush hung over everything, as if the house and all its inhabitants had taken a deep breath, then been frozen in place before they could release it. Finn’s carriage was in the drive, but there was no sign of him, and no servants wandering about, either.
All was still, and ominously silent.
Uneasiness shivered up Hyacinth’s spine. Something was wrong, and whatever it was, it went beyond an irate modiste, or an unflattering gown. “It’s too quiet. Come, Grandmother. Let’s see if we can’t find Iris.”
But it wasn’t Iris who was waiting for them in the entryway. It was Finn, his face so pale and drawn an involuntary cry tore from Hyacinth’s lips. “Finn? Oh, dear God, something’s happened, hasn’t it? Is it…it’s not Iris?”
He shook his head, but his lips remained white with strain. “At the moment, Iris is well.”
At the moment?
“Finn, the…the child?”
He hesitated, and Hyacinth’s stomach gave a sickening lurch.
“Iris awoke early this morning with pains. I feared…” Finn swallowed. “I feared the worst, and sent for the doctor right away. He’s been here all night. The pains have subsided, and Iris is resting.”
“Thank God,” Hyacinth whispered, reaching out to clutch her grandmother’s hand.
“The doctor believes Iris is perfectly well for the moment, but he can’t assure us this, ah…” Finn flushed a little. “This irritation of the abdomen won’t happen again. He advises rest and uninterrupted quiet until Iris is brought to bed.”
“Yes, yes, of course, she must rest,” Hyacinth said. “We must do just what the doctor says.”
“I want to take Iris back to Huntington Lodge at once.” Finn’s troubled gaze met Hyacinth’s. “There’s certain to be a good deal of disruption here with Isla’s season, and London is loud and dirty. Iris will be much better off in Buckinghamshire.”
Hyacinth’s manic butterflies were back, but this time their wings felt like tiny whips cracking against her ribs. “But it can’t be safe for her to travel, can it?”
“The doctor thinks she’s safe enough if we take the trip slowly, with plenty of stops for rest. But if we’re to go, we must go at once. The risk increases as the child grows. If we don’t go soon, we won’t be able to go at all.”
“Then you must go.” Hyacinth attempted a reassuring smile. “Iris says you were born at Huntington Lodge, and your father before you. She’s told me over and over again she wishes to continue that tradition with your child.”
“Yes, she’s said the same to me, many times, and yet now she’s refusing to leave.”
“What?” Lady Chase’s shrill voice echoed in the empty entryway. “Why should she refuse?”
Finn let out a short bark of laughter, but there was an edge of panic in it. “Because she’s the most stubborn, willful woman in England.”
“It’s the Ramseys, isn’t it?” Hyacinth pressed her palm to her forehead. “If you leave London, it puts an end to Isla’s season. She can’t go forward without a single member of the family here to support her, not after that scandal.”
