George examined them and asked, “You wish to speak to them?”
“I do.”
George went over to Mr. Goodwin and introduced himself to the new couple.
“Ah, one of the Graysons,” Beaumont said, “How splendid. My sister and I have just come down from London. We have established ourselves at Brookdale. And it seems we are neighbors. We were told it would be acceptable to attend this evening’s festivities even without an invitation.”
The young gentleman was most genteel, George thought.
“Do you hunt old man?” Beaumont asked.
“Only occasionally. My father, the Duke is a much more active hunter than I am.”
“One of the reasons we took Brookdale was because of the abundant game. If you ever care to join up, it would be a pleasure to have you.”
“I shall keep that in mind. However, my current task is to take you to my mother, the Duchess. She longs to make both of your acquaintance.”
“Lead on. Must carry out our duties to the hostess. And then I am itching for a dance.”
George directed the couple to his mother, who beamed when they approached.
The Duchess held out her hand, although she did not rise.
“Judith Grayson, The Duchess of Sutherland,” George introduced.
“Beaumont Goodwin, and my younger sister, Priscilla—newly of Brookdale. At your service,” Beaumont said, taking her hand and kissing it.
“Charmed,” the Duchess replied.
So far Miss Priscilla had not spoken a word—except with her eyes. She was gazing intently at George, and when he turned to her, she gave him a most delicate and delightful smile.
Beaumont at three and twenty years of age was not quite as tall as George, but he was solidly built and most handsome with black curly hair, blue eyes, and a ready smile. Miss Priscilla had dark reddish hair that was almost a dark brown, prettily put up in the current fashion with diamond pins inserted to give her an almost halo effect. She, too, had blue eyes and a most charming face with a small mouth but an expressive smile.
The Duchess had sent Flossy to retrieve her daughters and bring them over when they had finished their current dance.
“We wondered who had taken Brookdale,” Judith said, “For we heard rumors that some gentry had recently moved in.”
Beaumont nodded. “And happy to be in Dorset. My family actually has ancient connections to the area, and it seemed suitable to return.”
“And will you be here long?”
“It is uncertain. But at least for the season.
Ann and Charlotte approached, shortly followed by Betsy at a distance.
“Ah, my daughters.” She held out her hand and waved for them to approach closer, eager as she was for them to meet the Goodwins.
The Duchess took hold of Ann’s hand and pulled her closer. Mr. Beaumont Goodwin, this is my eldest, Ann—and such a sweet nature.”
Ann’s face let up at seeing the handsome Beaumont, and she curtsied and even blushed. “So charmed,” she said, taking his hand and reluctant to let go.
“And this is my middle daughter, Charlotte.” It was clear that Charlotte, too, was taken with Beaumont and put her hand to her breast and gave him her broadest smile.
“Both of these fine ladies still have some free dances if you would care to enter your name onto their cards.”
“I would be delighted to.”
And while he was entering his name on their cards, Priscilla turned to George and asked, “Mr. George, I have heard that you are a painter, is that so?”
