Strangling Rosalind.
“I confess, Lady Andromeda, I was quite shocked to learn you would be attending with Lady Theodosia.” Beatrice glanced at Theo, who was discreetly squinting, fingers trailing across the stone wall as she moved forward. “Is your sister well? She seems a bit...out of sorts.”
“Perhaps unsteady from being in a coach for so long.” Theo had already tripped over a table leg. Her vision was much more impaired without her spectacles than Romy had been led to believe. “It was very kind of Lady Molsin to include us along with Lady Richardson. She and Miss Richardson are cousins of ours.”
“Lady Molsin is kindness itself,” Beatrice replied with a small hint of steel, her annoyance at not being consulted on the guest list apparent. “She only neglected to inform my mother and me.”
“We were a last-minute addition.”
“Apparently.”
Romy glanced out over the rolling waves of flowers, broken up by only a narrow gravel path which disappeared into the gardens. Now that the required pleasantries were over, she and Beatrice had little to say to one another, each searching for an excuse to end this awkward but necessary greeting.
“Does Granby have an orchard?” she said to Beatrice, searching for something to say. Romy could just make out what appeared to be apple trees at the edge of the immense lawn.
“I’ve no idea.” Beatrice drummed her fingers against her skirts, lips pursed, the thin veneer of politeness beginning to fray about the edges.
I should tell her I designed her ballgown. Just to give her fits.
A smile broke across Beatrice’s lips, turning her from merely beautiful to absolutely stunning as she waved excitedly at someone behind Romy.
“Rebecca.” She brushed past Romy without a second thought, obviously relieved at having been rescued from conversing with Romy further now that she’d done her duty. “How good of you to come.” Beatrice took her friend’s hands with affection.
The new Lady Carstairs greeted Beatrice warmly, spinning about to show off her plum-colored ensemble before her joy halted upon noticing Romy. Brow wrinkling in consternation, she nonetheless bobbed politely. “Lady Andromeda. What a pleasure to find you here.”
“Isn’t it?” Just imagining the tedious conversation she’d be forced into with Lady Carstairs was enough to send Romy sprinting across the lawn.
“A late addition to the house party,” Beatrice said. “Lady Richardson begged an invitation for Lady Andromeda and her sister.” A gloved hand waved in the direction of Theo, who winced as she stubbed her toe. “Lady Theodosia.”
Begged an invitation?She opened her mouth to object.
Rebecca observed Theo. “I thought Lady Theodosia wore spectacles.”
“Broken,” Romy bit out. “During the journey here. Very unfortunate.” The last thing Theo would appreciate was these two nitwits gossiping about her vanity.
“Rebecca,” Beatrice cooed to her friend. “My gown, the one I told you about, was finished just in time. You’ll have to come to my room later to see it. Madame Dupree has outdone herself. I confess, she is a marvel. There are even tiny clips for my hair to match the dress.”
Rebecca clapped her hands. “How splendid.”
“The clips resemble small suns,” Beatrice continued. “I shalloutshineevery woman in the room.”
“As you should,” Rebecca giggled, Beatrice’s pun more than her tiny brain could comprehend. “Granby won’t be able to take his eyes from you.”
Had she known the gown was going to Beatrice, Romy would have created tiny snakes instead of suns. A small snort left her thinking of Beatrice as Medusa.
Beatrice and Rebecca shot her twin looks of annoyance before proceeding to ignore Romy completely and exclude her from their conversation.
With a sigh, Romy cast a glance in the direction of the gardens, meaning to excuse herself for a stroll when she caught sight of Cousin Winnie beckoning to her with a wave. She stood next to an older woman who was busy directing one of the servants. Lady Molsin.
“Excuse me. My cousin bids me to join her.”
Neither Beatrice nor Rebecca bothered to acknowledge her departure.
Head shaking at their rudeness, Romy hurried to Cousin Winnie’s side, discreetly observing their hostess. Delicate and fine boned, with refined patrician features and ash-blonde hair, Lady Molsin bore little resemblance to her nephew. Powder blue eyes sparkled with warmth at Romy’s approach, her hand reaching out in welcome.
“Penelope,” Cousin Winnie said, “may I present my dear cousin’s daughter, Lady Andromeda Barrington. Andromeda, dear, this is our hostess, Lady Molsin.”
Lady Molsin took Romy’s hand. “Lady Andromeda. A pleasure. I regret I could not greet you upon your arrival. I’m afraid the other guests were demanding their luncheon, and I dared not leave the staff without direction. I hope Owens took good care of you?”
