“I had a temporary affliction of my brain,” Hallie said. “Forget it, Jason.”
He was grinning as Angela came out of the drawing room looking like a fairy queen, all in pink and white lace. “Oh my dears, both of you look splendid. Oh dear.”
“What’s wrong, Angela?” Jason asked her, taking a quick step toward her. Since he hadn’t released Hallie’s arm, he pulled her with him.
“It’s Cook.”
“What about her?”
“She’s breathing hard. I fear the worst.”
Jason spun around to see Mrs. Millsom standing not two feet from him, staring up at him. He caught her before she hit the floor.
Jason, Hallie, and Angela didn’t arrive at Lord Grimsby’s lovely old manor house, Abbott Grange, built during the early years of Queen Anne’s reign, until nine o’clock. The night was warm, little gusts of wind stirred the oak branches, and the moon nearly full.
“What a perfect night to be out and about,” Angela said, and patted Hallie’s knees. “Or inside and about, for that matter. And you will have a lovely visit with your family, Jason. How very nice of your father to lend us one of his carriages. I hear that your father has known Lord Grimsby forever.”
Hallie said, “Will your grandmother attend as well, Jason?”
“Yes, I believe so. Do you know, I’ve never seen her dance? My father told me once when she was young, she danced until the sunrise. However, since Angela will be there, who knows?”
Angela said, “Lydia told me yesterday she was coming. I told her you would dance with her, Jason. James as well.”
“If she can meander around the dance floor with her cane, we should have no problem,” Jason said.
Hallie said, “I plan to ask James if he has fond memories of the pigs.”
“He will,” Jason said. He gave Angela a grin to smite her dead.
“Poor Cook,” Angela said.
“Don’t encourage him, Angela. His head is already so big—not much heft up there to speak of, just air—it’s ready to float.”
Abbott Grange sprawled over a half acre, every window filled with light, probably a good five hundred candles lit, Hallie thought, wondering at the expense and the sheer number of fingers required to light that many tapers. There were more carriages than Hallie could count lined along the entire perimeter of the long drive. After Angela and Hallie were handed down by two liveried servants who looked to Jason as if they’d come directly from a boxing match, he thanked John Coachman, whose name was really Benjie, and slipped him a bottle of Mr. McFardle’s fine ale from his tavern in Blaystock.
“This could be in London,” Hallie said behind her hand as the three of them joined another dozen guests wending up the wide, deep stone steps past liveried servants holding flambeaux high above their heads. They were no sooner announced to the sixty or so guests in the Grimsby ballroom, than a young man’s voice said, “By all that’s wicked, isn’t it Jason?”
A lady’s voice said, “I believe it must be since the girl with him isn’t James’s wife.”
“Jason, is that really you? You’re home at last?”
“This is the young lady who—”
“Jason, you look tanned as we ever did in the summer as boys. Remember that time at Punter’s Pond?”
“She’s far too pretty to be a partner. Look at that gown.”
“My God, man, it’s been too long. Welcome home.”
Jason was laughing, shaking hands, clapping backs, a huge smile on his face, and he didn’t let go of Hallie’s hand. He introduced her and Angela to all the gentlemen and ladies who crowded around him. Hallie curtsied, nodded, pr
esented her right hand to be kissed a dozen times, and smiled. The ladies were a bit on the cool side, but as Jason had said when they’d first walked in, “They’re my friends. They’ll accept you fast enough.”
“Goodness,” Angela said from beside Hallie, fanning her face. “Our Jason certainly knows everyone. He’s very popular, Hallie. Is this ball really in honor of Lord Renfrew?”
Hallie said, “Difficult to believe. Now, a lovely get-together for his hanging, that I can believe. He’s over there, Angela, speaking with that young lady with all the black hair. Drat, he’s coming this way.”
Lord Renfrew swept down on her, ignored Jason, and took her hand in his. She gave a little tug, but he wasn’t about to let go. He gave her a man’s look that she recognized quickly enough, and asked her to waltz.