Page 88 of Lord Hartwell’s Refuge

Ah, that was it. “I do not think so. Our social schedule is fairly empty this week, and we have no invitations to dine with anyone. I will make certain to inform you if anything changes.”

“Thank you.” Still Roman did not move. “If you are certain…?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am. There is nothing pressing that requires your attention here.”

He studied her another moment, evidently unconvinced, but the clock on the mantel chimed the hour. Roman swore beneath his breath, then winced. “Tamsin, my apologies, I should not⁠—”

Tamsin laughed. “I am not the least offended. This time. Now, go.”

He kissed the top of her head, wearing a rather sheepish expression, and went.

She listened to his footsteps retreat down the corridor and leaned back in her chair and sighed. Really. This was absurd. She should not smile and tell him to go, then wish to call him back the moment he closed the door.

Her mother-in-law discovered her an hour later in the morning room. Frances came armed with correspondence, which Tamsin had learned was never a promising sign. “I have had another letter from Lady Emily’s mother.”

Tamsin did her best not to wince. “Is she still worried about the breakfast?”

“The breakfast, the flowers, the weather, Lyness’s capacity to arrive at the church at the appointed hour⁠—”

“That last concern is not entirely without merit.”

Mother gave her a look over the top of the letter and Tamsin smiled innocently.

She did not yet know her brother-in-law especially well, as he spent a great deal of time at the family’s country estate or with his bride-to-be, but he frequently arrived late to dinner when he did come.

Preparations for Lyness and Emily’s wedding had begun to creep into Hartwell House in a hundred small ways. Fortunately most of them belonged to Frances, Emily, and Emily’s family. Tamsin had offered assistance where she felt it pertinent, and her mother-in-law had accepted it when useful, and refused it when not.

Which remained a novelty.

“Oh.” Frances drew another letter from beneath the first. “And this came for you.”

Tamsin recognized the hand before Frances passed it across the table. Her stepmother had written to her. She braced herself, and broke the seal.

The letter was not long. Anne wrote first of the twins, then a cold which had kept Pearl at home for three days, though Tamsin suspected from the description that her sister had suffered more from boredom than illness. Then came Daphne and concerns about the Christmas assembly. Tamsin slowed as she read that part.

Daphne was nearing eighteen now, and though the family had never intended anything so grand as a London Season for her, the assembly was important. There would be dancing. Neighbors. Friends of the family. Gentlemen of suitable age whom Anne had undoubtedly already considered with terrifying thoroughness.

But there was now an unexpected advantage to everything: Daphne had a sister who was Lady Hartwell. Tamsin read the relevant paragraph again.

Her mother-in-law was watching her, head tilted with curiosity.

Lowering the letter, Tamsin gave the tiniest of shrugs. “She wants me to help with the invitations.”

“Ah.”

A great deal was packed into that single syllable. Tamsin swallowed. “And she thinks perhaps Lady Gingell might invite Daphne to visit if I were to speak with her.”

“Possibly.”

Three syllables. Not much better. “There are several families she believes might be more inclined to call after the ball if the invitation came through me.”

The dowager baroness said nothing to that, though her eyebrows had climbed higher.

Tamsin folded the letter. None of the requests were unreasonable. Daphne was her sister. She wanted her to have a lovely evening. She wanted her surrounded by people who would be kind to her, wanted her to dance until her slippers wore thin and go to bed afterward convinced that no girl in Yorkshire had ever had such a wonderful time. Lady Gingell liked Tamsin well enough. There were others she might approach. She ought to make a list. Perhaps if she⁠—

“And do you want to?”

Tamsin looked up.