“They discussed it,” Lord Aldric said, “and came to the consensus that having all our wives here might be painful for Digby with his grief so raw yet.”
The dowager’s expression turned utterly empathetic. “I suspect that was wise.”
In the next moment, the gentlemen spotted Artemis and rose.
The dowager waved her over. “Artemis, do come make the acquaintance of my dear friends.” This was, without question, the lightest the dowager had appeared since Artemis and Charlie had arrived. The kind lady motioned to the most substantially built of them all. “Lord Aldric Benick.” To the bespectacled one, “Mr. Kester Barrington.” To the more sedate one with kind eyes, “Mr. Henri Fortier.” To the one who Artemis suspected would have preferred be left in a quiet corner, “Mr. Niles Greenberry.” Then she turned to the gentleman Artemis was both eager and nervous to meet. “Mr. Digby Layton.”
They all sketched quick and proper bows.
“Gents,” the dowager said, “this is my newest daughter-in-law, Artemis Jonquil. Until a few weeks ago, she was Artemis Lancaster.”
Understanding washed over their expressions.
“Sister of the Duchess of Kielder,” Lord Aldric said. “Our paths have crossed on a few occasions, but I am pleased to make your more particular acquaintance.”
Artemis dipped her head. Her eyes, of their own accord, shifted back to Mr. Layton. He was a pattern card of gentlemanly fashion. And she knew he had already taken an assessment of her attire and fashion choices. She knew because she did the same thing when she met people. It wasn’t an evaluation in order to dismiss or belittle them but rather her mind evaluating which aspects of clothing were suited to which people, which didn’t work as well, which were surprising, and which were expected. Her mind couldn’t help it. She was always learning, always exploring. She hadn’t the least doubt he did the same.
“I have heard report of you, Mrs. Jonquil,” Mr. Layton said.
“You have?” Her voice quavered a little. Bless her, she was nearly shaking. No one who knew her would guess she was ever anything but entirely confident. She worked hard to make them think that. Even the Huntresses were presented with her most confident facade.
“My associates in London tell me you have cut quite a dash in Society,” Mr. Layton said. “Your eye for fashion is widely spoken of.”
She swallowed. “As is yours, sir.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment.
“Do you realize,” she continued, “the drapers still speak of the run on diagonally printed patterns you caused in 1813 when you staunchly refused to allow your tailor to fashion a waistcoat for you with roller-printed fabric of any other variety?”
He tugged at his cuffs. “Why make do when one can make waves?”
Oh, she liked him already. But she could see the others were not nearly as keen on the topic at hand. She would not burden them with it, especially since she had interrupted whatever they were discussing before her arrival. “I would enjoy hearing your thoughts on current fashions,” she said to Mr. Layton, feigning a degree of confidence she did not entirely feel, “when you have a free moment.”
“I would enjoy that as well,” he said.
She dipped a curtsy and slipped quickly from the terrace back through the ballroom doors. Rose had already left. Artemis would give her a full report when next she saw her. At the moment, though, she wanted nothing so much as to skip about gleefully.
Digby Layton, a legend of fashion, had heard of her, and what he’d heard had impressed him. She could have shouted and cried with joy all at the same time.
With effort, she kept herself to some degree of decorum as she rushed from the ballroom, intent on tucking herself away for a bit in her bedchamber. The sting of rejection she’d endured with her sister-in-law had eased with the ready acceptance of a gentleman she’d long wished to meet.
Oh, how she had needed that.
She crossed paths with Charlie in the corridor of the family wing.
He eyed her with a touch of confusion. “Ought I to be afraid at such a broad grin as that?” Enough teasing sat in his tone to take the edge off.
“I’ve just met Mr. Digby Layton.” She took his hands and bounced a bit, her excitement overcoming her dignity. “He’s as delightful as I’d hoped.”
He laughed a little. “I’ve not seen you this giddy in... well, ever.”
She sighed and didn’t bother hiding her grin. “I haven’t been this happy in ages.”
She spun about as she made her way into the bedchamber. What had been a miserable day had turned into a ray of absolute sunshine.
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlie couldn’t shake from hismind the image of Artemis so delightedly excited when he’d seen her in the corridor the afternoon before. Her entire demeanor had been light and natural and genuine. Her voice had rung with very real pleasure and excitement.
