“My dear,” he said to Penelope, “we have the unexpected pleasure of welcoming two of our guests already! Mr. Armitage, Miss Armitage, may I present my daughter Penelope, her friends Miss Staverton and Miss Grace, and our guest Mr. Hawkins? And…”
He puffed himself up, eyes gleaming with self-importance as he turned to Elinor. “Mrs. De Lacey,” he said, “may I present our guests to you? Mr. Armitage of Stanton Court, and his charming sister, Miss Armitage.”
“Delighted,” Elinor said politely, and inclined her head in a nod, while Sir Jessamyn, stiffening, watched the new dragon warily from her lap.
Miss Armitage’s dragon, as far as Elinor could tell, hadn’t even noticed Sir Jessamyn’s existence. He—or she—was sitting perfectly still on Miss Armitage’s shoulder, with golden eyes focused on Miss Armitage’s face and every line of his body positively shouting of attentiveness and obedience.
Clearly, Miss Armitage must be either a perfect goddess of dragon-training or an absolute ogre.
All that Elinor knew of either of the Armitages was what she had read in the past year’s society columns, in combination with what her uncle had told Penelope and Lady Hathergill three weeks ago over dinner. Put together, though, it was more than enough to give Benedict cause for concern. Mr. Armitage was an acquaintance Sir John had made at an important London dinner party, and he was known to be a young man of undisputed wealth, although he and his sister had only recently come to the attention of larger society.
He had recently purchased a very fine estate, and over the past several months, he had received regular mention in the society columns as“that well-favoured young man Mr. A— who is so highly regarded nowadays.”Even if Mr. Armitage had been the ugliest man in existence, Penelope would have found everything else about him attractive—and Mr. Armitage, Elinor had to admit, was anything but ugly.
Shining blonde hair, arranged in perfect waves around his head, made him the ideal counterpart to Penelope’s golden beauty. His broad shoulders showed to advantage in his perfectly-cut black coat as he bowed…and his warm brown eyes widened with surprise as he saw Elinor’s face.
“Mrs. De Lacey! Good heavens, I had no idea you would be here.”
“Ah…” Elinor blinked, rapidly reassessing the situation.Drat. Of course, if he was well-known in Society, he would know Mrs. De Lacey, wouldn’t he? She’d been so busy worrying about fooling her own family, she had completely forgotten that she would have to fool their fashionable guests as well. She moistened her lips, trying to think quickly. “I hadn’t planned to come originally, but—”
“It must have been a very sudden decision indeed. When I mentioned this house party to you at the Rothershams’ rout—that was only four nights ago, was it not?—I could have sworn—”
“Well,” Elinor said weakly, “you made it sound so charming. How could I possibly resist?”
He raised his eyebrows skeptically, but, to Elinor’s relief, did not pursue the matter. Instead, he turned to the woman beside him…and all of Elinor’s relief melted away as she heard his next words: “Of course you know my sister already, Mrs. De Lacey.”
“Of course,” Elinor repeated, and cursed inwardly. How well did Mrs. De Lacey know his sister? Were they on first-name terms? Would she be expected to know their family history?
“Oh, Gavin, I’d be astonished if she remembers me.” Miss Armitage’s deep curtsey was a model of grace, leaving the dragon on her shoulder perfectly composed and not even forced to shift by half an inch. “We’ve only met once, and atsucha crush, I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t recognize me, Mrs. De Lacey.”
“But of course I do.” This time, Elinor’s smile was perfectly genuine. She could have kissed Miss Armitage in gratitude for saving her. With automatic courtesy, she began to hold out her hand—then caught herself and snatched it back as she remembered the illusion.
Miss Armitage’s dark brows rose in surprise, but she lowered her own hand in response. She was quite dissimilar to her brother in appearance but every bit as attractive, with hair so dark that it was nearly black, deep blue eyes, and a curvaceous figure. She couldn’t have been more than Elinor’s own age—perhaps four years her brother’s junior—but she turned to Penelope with all the ease and confidence of an established matron.
“Miss Hathergill, we do so regret descending upon you like this, a full two days early. I’m afraid your mother may never forgive us! But I’m afraid we were let down by our friends in Bath, who’d offered to host us along the way. Their child had caught scarlet fever, and as we could hardly intrude upon their house at such a time—”
“Oh, no!” Penelope said. “Only imagine if you caught it?”
“Quite,” said Miss Armitage, sitting down beside Lucinda. “Only imagine! And so I’m afraid we have landed much too early on your doorstep. I do feel terribly guilty about the inconvenience we are causing you.”
She smoothed down her skirts with perfect equanimity, and the dragon on her shoulder assumed a posture of perfect alertness, like an educational statue of Obedience. It was, Elinor thought, almost unnerving. She gave Sir Jessamyn an extra scratch behind his head, just in case he needed any reassurance.
“Nonsense!” said Sir John. “We’re delighted to have you, aren’t we, Penelope?”
“Oh, yes,” Penelope said. She gazed meltingly at Mr. Armitage from under her long eyelashes. “We were just about to order more tea—would you care for some?”
“I should like it beyond anything,” said Mr. Armitage, and dropped himself neatly into the foot-wide gap on the couch between Penelope and Mr. Hawkins, forcing Benedict to move aside. “Oh, those roads! Outside London, no one even seems to know how to build them anymore. At my own estate—sorry, old man, you don’t mind me sitting here, do you?”
“Of course not.” Benedict gave him an easy smile. “You’re clearly exhausted from travel. It takes many gentlemen that way.”
“Ah…” Mr. Armitage’s teeth flashed perfectly white in his smile. “I don’t think we’ve met, but I do know your name. Hawkins, wasn’t it? You aren’t the Hawkins of Kennington Park, by any chance?”
Benedict’s smile remained, but Elinor saw the sudden tension around his eyes. “I am. Have you visited my part of the country?”
“Oh, not for some time,” said Mr. Armitage. “But I met your father once or twice. A good fellow, wasn’t he?”
“That’s what my old friend Edmund Crawford says,” agreed Sir John. “He asked—”
“There was something I heard about him just last year, though.” Mr. Armitage’s brow creased in a thoughtful frown. “What was it? Oh, yes. The rumoursIheard said that before his passing, he’d been drawn into a rather regrettable—”
