A BALL REVEALS ALL
Nine o’clock in the evening, Weatherstone Manor
Breathless, the Comber twins entered the vestibule of Weatherstone Manor at a near run. “They’re probably already here,” Anthony murmured, worry in his voice. “Cursing our tardiness.”
“Danielle doesn’t curse,” Andrew remarked, even though he had heard her use a choice term or two in their two decades of knowing one another. “And the Norwick coach hasn’t yet arrived.”
“How can you be sure?” Anthony asked as he handed his greatcoat to a footman.
“I looked,” Andrew replied. Despite the chill in the air, he had left Aimsley House without a coat. “Come. There’s a receiving line,” he said as he led the way through the hall to where Lord and Lady Weatherstone were standing together, greeting their early guests. Beyond them were the wide stairs leading down to the ballroom, potted palms posted on either side. Fresh pineapples had been mounted atop the stair railings.
“Mother raved about the decor over breakfast this morning,” Andrew commented as he joined the receiving line.
“How did she already know of it?”
“Apparently most of the ladies of thetonwere invited here for tea whilst they were at the garden party Saturday,” Andrew explained. “Daphne had our father all to herself for quite awhile,” he added with a smirk.
One of Anthony’s brows quirked. “Oh, is that why he wasn’t at breakfast this morning?”
“I think she talked his ear off, asking so many questions and such. Mother said he was quite vexed,” Andrew commented.
“Hmm.” Anthony took Lady Weatherstone’s hand in his and kissed the back of it. “You look especially lovely this evening, my lady. You will save a dance for me?”
Agnes Peele, Countess of Weatherstone, scoffed. “Oh, Breckinridge, save your dances for the younger ladies, and do let me be the first to wish you well.”
Anthony gave a start. “You already know Lady Dahlia has accepted my marriage proposal?”
“Young man, it’s my business to know these things. But if you really must know my source, you need look no further than your mother. Lady Aimsley sent word this morning. Something about hoping you wouldn’t change your mind.”
“Change my mind?” Anthony whispered. “I wouldn’t. I haven’t,” he insisted. His brows lifted. “Has Lady Dahlia?”
Lady Weatherstone’s attention flitted to her husband. “Not that I’m aware,” she replied.
“That’s a relief,” he whispered. “Thank you, my lady.” Anthony went on to Lord Weatherstone and inhaled to tell him his news.
“Well, if it isn’t one of the lucky young men who are about to be caught in the parson’s mousetrap,” William, Earl of Weatherstone, said jovially. “Where is your lady?”
“Here, my lord,” Dahlia said as she hurried up to join Anthony. She curtsied to the countess and gave the earl her gloved hand.
“Best wishes to you both.” Weatherstone’s gaze fell on the two people next in line—Andrew and Danielle. “To all of you,” he amended. “Do be sure to tell my butler so he can announce you.” He waved toward the stairs, where Gilbert was posted as if on guard. “I do feel great pride in my ball being the harbinger of good news.”
“Yes, sir,” Anthony replied before he bowed, and the four continued to the top of the stairs.
Andrew turned his gaze on Danielle, his brow furrowing when he noticed her gown wasn’t quite as Anthony had described.
“What is it?” Danielle asked, noting his curious expression.
“You look lovely in that gown,” he whispered.
“It’s my sister’s. She insisted I wear it, and she’s wearing mine,” Danielle explained.
“Oh, so that’s what a gold sarcenet overskirt looks like,” he murmured, glancing over to where Dahlia stood facing Anthony. The two were staring at one another, Anthony holding onto one of Dahlia’s gloved hands. “Sort of like a golden bird cage.”
Danielle grinned. “And you wore a waistcoat to match it,” she said, pretending sadness. “I really wish I had put up more of a fuss when she asked me to exchange gowns with her,” she added.
“I could switch my waistcoat with Anthony before we go down,” he offered, about to head toward the other couple.
“Don’t,” Danielle whispered. “There’s really no need for your waistcoat to match my gown,” she added as she watched her sister interact with the viscount, her expression showing concern.
