“Don’t be anxious.” Amelia squeezed Louise’s hand. “Just enjoy the rest—you and the others have earned it.”
Hudson, the butler, swung open the door and the jingle of harness reached them. Louise glanced outside. “Excellent—the carriage is here.” Turning back to her brood, she swept them with a mother’s eye. “Now be good and take care—in whatever manner those injunctions apply.” Turning to Arthur, she smiled into his blue eyes, then let him twine her arm with his.
“Come along,” Arthur said, then dramatically lowered his voice. “I think it’s safe to leave them to it.”
Louise laughed and allowed him to lead her down the steps.
The rest of the family followed them outside, gathering on the narrow porch to wave them away.
Once the carriage had turned the corner, Simon and Portia took their leave, Henrietta and James returned to the library and their delicate task, and Amanda, Amelia, and Mary retreated to the front hall to decide on their social arrangements.
“I can’t go with you tonight.” Amanda grimaced. “A rather dull dinner with some relatives of Martin’s—it’s been organized forever. But if you want to take a turn in the Park this afternoon, I could pick you up at four o’clock.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, all right. It looks like it’s going to be a splendid day. But”—she looked hopefully at Amelia—“what about the Castlemaine House ball this evening?”
Geraldine Carmody had been standing beside Mary in Randolph’s circle last night, and had moved on with Mary when she’d quit the group; Geraldine had mentioned that she’d heard Randolph and his friends say that they would be attending Lady Castlemaine’s event.
“Oh, I can chaperon you for that,” Amelia said. “Portia, too. We’ll both be attending.”
“Excellent!” Mary beamed. She and Amelia agreed that it would be best for her to take the family’s town carriage to the ball and meet Amelia and Portia, both of whom would be traveling to the event in their own carriages, in the Castlemaine House foyer.
“Just in case,” Amelia said, pulling on her gloves. She and Portia had small children, so emergency summonses were always a possibility.
With all arranged to their mutual satisfaction, the twins departed to walk to their own homes, leaving Mary somewhat at a loss. She debated joining Henrietta and James for all of two seconds, but decided it was best to leave them to work through the hurdles by themselves—if she joined in, she would take over. She usually did.
And others usually let her.
Because it was easier that way.
She was very good at organizing, especially anything to do with people, but Henrietta needed the experience of dealing with James’s family more than Mary did.
Feeling rather virtuous for turning her back on the chance to interrupt and take charge—the activity would at least have kept her occupied—she drifted down the corridor to the back parlor. Walking in, she shut the door, then continued her idle drift to stand before the windows.
Crossing her arms, she looked out over the rear garden and waited for the wispy thought that had been nagging at her all morning to grow more solid.
Eventually, it did.
“Ah.” It was, she had to admit, a pertinent point. “Why on earth was Ryder there?” At the Felsham ball last night, and at the Cornwallis soiree the previous evening.
A few more minutes’ consideration and the most likely explanation coalesced in her mind. “He must be looking for his next conquest.” His next short-term lover; according to all reports, Ryder was not one for lengthy liaisons. Apparently he grew bored rapidly, much to the dismay of the ladies involved.
From all she’d gathered about gentlemen like him—wolves of the ton such as her brother and cousins prior to their marriages, or in Ryder’s case, a lion of the ton, but the same framework applied—their preferred source of paramours was the bored matrons of the ton, women of their own class who understood society’s restrictions and the rules pertaining to such illicit affairs.
“I suppose he has to find them somewhere, and there was certainly a good selection of bored matrons at those events, but there shouldn’t be quite the same crowd at Lady Castlemaine’s tonight—that will be more a matchmakers’ gathering—so with any luck, Ryder won’t be there, and I’ll be able to get a clear tilt at Randolph.” Without the distraction of his overpowering older brother. “Half brother. Regardless of what Ryder thinks, Randolph’s nothing like him.”
Encouraged by her deductions, she reviewed the possible opportunities the Castlemaine House event might offer in terms of getting Randolph alone.
“We’ll be somewhere over there.” Pausing on the steps leading down to Lady Castlemaine’s ballroom, Portia waved toward the far end of the room, then glanced back at Mary, on the step behind her. “Come and find us if you need us.”
Already engaged in quartering the room, Mary merely hmmed.
Beside Portia, Amelia flicked open her fan and plied it vigorously. “Yes, indeed! That’s where we’ll be. It’s already so stuffy, but at least the windows at that end are open.” She, too, glanced back at Mary. “You know the ropes. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t have done at your age, and we’ll come and find you when we’re ready to leave.”
Having located Randolph, once again standing in a circle composed of his male friends and several young ladies, Mary nodded. “Yes. All right.”
She followed Amelia and Portia down the steps, then turned in the opposite direction and plunged into the crowd. Nearing Randolph’s group, she paused and looked around. Spotting another young lady eyeing the same group, she smiled and glided over, introduced herself, and after a short exchange sufficient to establish their common backgrounds and their common cause, she and the young lady—a Miss Melchett—linked arms and strolled over to join the conversation.
By exploiting the angle of their approach, Mary ensured that, as the circle obligingly expanded to accommodate them, she fetched up by Randolph’s side.