The supper had been served rather late—the prawns were exquisite, so he’d taken a few for Hecate—but none of the guests seemed at all inclined to go home to their beds. Some of the more sedate among the company had adjourned to the card room, while the younger people had all rushed back to the ballroom for more dancing and flirting.
Did all balls drag on as interminably as this one? Why wouldn’t everyone just go home, for God’s sake?
But he seemed to be the only person in the ballroom who wished the festivities to be over. He’d hardly seen Ryan and Etienne at all during the past few days of furious fete preparations, and wanted nothing more at the moment than to see their flushed, sleeping faces.
And then there was Helena.
He’d embarked on this evening wishing for her, had spent every moment since the first dance thinking of her, and it seemed he was to end the evening just as he’d begun it—pining for her like a besotted schoolboy. The idea of going to his bed tonight without seeing her was unbearable, but unless he intended to storm her bedchamber, there wasn’t much…
He could storm her bedchamber, couldn’t he? Or perhaps notstormit, but at least knock, and if shedidcome to the door in her nightdress, well, so be it. He’d bid her goodnight—a chaste goodnight, that is, and she—
“All right there, Hawke? You look a bit flushed.”
“I’m very well, indeed, er…” Adrian squinted at the dark-haired man who’d approached him. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place—
“Miles Winthrop, Lord Cross. Good God, Hawke, has it been so long you no longer recognize me?”
“Cross?” Adrian stared at the man, incredulous. He’d seen Cross a time or two at the beginning of the season, so it hadn’t been long at all, but Cross looked like an entirely different man tonight. He’d always been a brusque sort of fellow, rather dark and cynical, but now he wore a wide smile that took at least a dozen years off his face. “Cross, by God. How do you do? You look very well.”
“I suppose I must, given that shocked look on your face. May I present Lady Cross?” Cross gestured proudly to the tall, slender lady on his arm. “My wife, the Countess of Cross. This is Lord Hawke, Juliet.”
“Lady Cross. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lady Cross was a stunning, dark-haired creature, and strangely familiar, somehow, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on—
“Lord Hawke, at last,” Lady Cross said as Adrian bowed over her hand. “I’ve heard a great deal aboutyou.”
“Everyone here has heard a great deal about me, I’m afraid.” Adrian gave her a wry smile. “I don’t believe any of the St. Mary’s Ladies’ Benevolent Society fetes have ever attractedquiteso many guests in the past. It looks as if all of Oxfordshire is here, and all of them gawking shamelessly at me.”
Lady Cross laughed. “Indeed, but shame on you, my lord, for implying I listen to gossip. Having been the subject of it often enough myself, I assure you that I don’t. No, I know of you from my sister, of course.”
“Your sister?” Who the devil was her sister?
He must not have hidden his bafflement as well as he hoped, because Lady Cross’s brow furrowed. “Why yes, of course. Your governess, Lord Hawke? Helena Templeton is my sister.”
“Helena!” My God, hemusthave misheard her, mustn’t he?
Except…a dozen small hints and offhand comments started to come back to him then. Cross’s recent marriage, and Helena’s weekly visits to Steeple Cross…
God above, how could he have been so dense? Helena’s sister wasn’t the housekeeper or Lady Cross’s lady’s maid, she was the Countess of Cross herself! “I, er…forgive me, my lady, I wasn’t aware—”
“Oh, dear. I see Helena hasn’t been quite as forthcoming as she should have been. I daresay you thought I was the housekeeper, or some such thing, didn’t you?”
“The housekeeper!” Lord Cross laughed. “No, indeed. You’d make a perfectly wretched housekeeper, Juliet. You’re far too accustomed to having everything your own way.”
“Nonsense, my lord. I’m the most accommodating person imaginable.”
Lord Cross snorted, and his wife tapped his arm smartly with her fan, smiling up at him. “Hush, you awful man.”
Adrian watched them tease each other, amused and mystified at once. Despite their sparring, anyone could see they were utterly besotted with each other. Lord Cross had, by all appearances, found himself the perfect lady.
“I do beg your pardon for taking you so off guard, my lord. I’m afraid Helena can be quite reticent when she wishes to be.” Lady Cross hesitated. “I daresay you’ve heard of the Templeton sisters, Lord Hawke?”
The Templeton sisters…
Juliet Templeton! That was the name that had been eluding him since that day he’d fished Helena out of the tree and she’d told him her name. There was another sister too, wasn’t there? Emily, or…no, it was Emmeline. Emmeline Templeton. Yes, he’d heardthatname before, and hadn’t Lady Cross just made a comment about being the object oftongossip?
“My God, I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner. You’re the matchmaking sisters!” That was why Lady Cross looked so familiar to him! She resembled her sister Helena, though Lady Cross had dark blue eyes, rather than Helena’s blue-gray.
“Oh, dear.” Lady Cross turned to her husband. “He’s found us out.”
