Artemis shook her head. “We can certainly outsmart her on that score. I worry far more about her treatment of Ellie. Mrs. Napper is not kind to her. And when Ellie is in company with her mother, she’s a different person: coerced into near silence, withdrawn in a way that speaks of duress.”
“Is that why she was so different during our promenade yesterday than she was at the Fancy Ball?” Charlie asked. “I found the change in her confusing.”
Artemis sighed. “The Nappers were our neighbors when I still lived in the Lancaster family home. I didn’t know Lillian and Ellie well then—I moved away when I was still quite young—but on all of my visits since, I have found myself utterly exasperated with Mrs. Napper. Parents ought not despise the person their child is, but she has always seemed to dislike Ellie, or at leastdisapproveof her.”
“That is, unfortunately, not an uncommon affliction.” Newton knew all too well how it felt to have one’s parents wish he were different than he actually was.
“Would we do best to speak on her behalf or ignore it?” Charlie asked. “I wouldn’t wish to make things worse for Miss Ellie. But listening to a lady being harangued and not stepping in goes entirely against my nature.”
Newton smiled at his friend. “You Jonquils never can resist helping someone in need.”
“A trait I inherited from my father.”
“I’ve met your mother,” Newton said. “I can say with absolute certainty that you inherited that from her as well.”
Charlie smiled fondly and, if Newton didn’t miss his mark, a little sadly. Charlie longed for his mother’s company when he was away from home, though he had been loath to admit it while they were still at school. The other boys had taken great delight in teasing him over his deep attachment to his mother during their years at Eton. However, few of them understood the enormous pain he felt at having lost his father before he’d even begun his first year there.
Artemis’s expression had also softened. She knew Charlie’s mother, after all. No one who had ever met the Dowager Countess of Lampton felt anything but deep admiration for her, and she treated everyone with sincere kindness.
Mr. Lancaster stepped into the drawing room. He bore a striking resemblance to his younger sister, both boasting golden curls and startlingly green eyes. He was also every bit as witty and quick with a jest as she was. Newton had enjoyed coming to know them both. He enjoyed their company better than his own parents’.
“Henson tells me our guests are beginning to arrive,” Mr. Lancaster said.
“Oh, how I wish I’d been present to hearhowhe told you,” Artemis said.
Mr. Lancaster laughed. “He regularly sends my Arabella into fits of laughter, though I suspect he doesn’t mean to. I’ll keep him on forever if it means seeing her so happy.”
Newton dreamed of a marriage like theirs, built on love and adoration and mutual happiness. How could his parents not want thatfor him?
Newton’s parents arrived within the next few minutes, followed by the Nappers and the Mullins. That, as it turned out, was the extent of the guest list. Mother was quite felicitous toward Artemis. Mrs. Napper worked herself into something of a frenzy attempting to show equal attention to both Charlie and Newton. The elder Miss Napper never seemed more than a few feet away from him. And Artemis did her utmost to slip free of his mother and pull him and Ellie near enough for conversation and interaction.
It was the most ridiculous dance.
Charlie, of all people, proved the most adept. After nearly an hour, he announced to the gathering “an excellent idea” for making the most of the evening. “Those of us unattached and without wisdom wrought from life experience”—he motioned subtly with his head toward the older, married set—“would feel simply awful if we disrupted the, no doubt, important conversations occurring around us. Might I suggest that Miss Lancaster, Mr. Hughes, the Misses Napper, the younger Mr. Mullins, Miss Mullins, and I form our own little party and take up a parlor game?”
An excellent idea, indeed.
Artemis wasted not a moment grasping the opportunity. “Oh, please, could we play short answer?”
Charlie shrugged, apparently not overly worried aboutwhichgame was chosen. Artemis’s suggestion was taken up by the others. Short answer was a relatively simply game but a challenging one, just the same. Each participant would, in turn, ask a question, and the person to his or her right would be required to answer it in a single syllable. No one was permitted to ask a question already posed nor choose an answer already given.
They were soon situated on one side of the drawing room, occupying chairs gathered in a circle. If not for the Mullins siblings—Tobias and Daria—they would never have managed to arrange the seven of them such that no one was seated beside the person who was being thrust upon them by well-meaning parents while still making certain Newton and Ellie sat beside one another. The arrangement would help with the impression they were trying to make, but Newton also looked forward to watching her play this fast-paced game of quick answers and witty questions. The Ellie he’d met at the Fancy Ball would have been rubbish at it. The Ellie who’d persuaded him to take part in her plot would likely triumph over them all.
“What will be the forfeit for a participant whose answer breaks the rules?” Miss Napper asked.
“Elimination,” Artemis said. “For that particular round, at least. We will narrow down the participants until we have a champion of each round. The person who is champion the most will be declared monarch of the evening.”
“Monarch?” Ellie grinned. “I hope that comes with an unhealthy degree of unmitigated power.”
“Ellie, do show some decorum,” Miss Napper said quietly but not quietly enough. The circle was small. No one was far from anyone else.
“I suggest Miss Lancaster begin,” Tobias said. “The game was her suggestion.”
Artemis accepted the invitation with an eager grace. She turned to Charlie. “Which county is your favorite?”
A difficult question to answer according to the rules. Were there any counties in the kingdom that had one-syllable names? Newton’s mind spun, trying to remember them all.
With no more than a moment’s thought, Charlie answered. “Kent.” He, then, turned to Daria. “What sort of evening are we having tonight?”
