“He looks like a rake.” Josie’s supposition aligned with Mary’s. “It also appears as though he and Hartford are close.” She raised an eyebrow, turning her head to look at Mary. “Do you think…” Her voice trailed off, but Mary knew what Josie meant.
If the two men were close friends, the earl might also belong to Hartford’s society. Mary groaned.
“I cannot possibly follow two rakehells all around the ballrooms of London.” She winced. “Aunt Elizabeth is keeping a closer eye on me than last year. I risked enough tonight, following Hartford.” Especially given what occurred when she did.
“My godmother did say he is not often seen at these events,” Lily said consolingly. “She was surprised to see him tonight, in fact. I will keep an eye out for him when he does appear.” She shrugged, grimacing apologetically. There was nothing to be done for it, though. With her social standing as the Duchess of Richmond’s goddaughter, eyes were constantly following her.
While Josie did not have the same issue of recognizability, she too tended to draw eyes wherever she went. She had an unconscious charisma that naturally attracted attention. If she were to start following a rake around, it would be noted.
Whereas no one noticed Mary.
Sighing, Mary watched as Hartford and Devon finally finished their argument, with Hartford the clear winner, and the pair moved to exit the ballroom together. She would just have to hope Devon kept to his usual habits and spared her the effort.
Chapter 5
Rex
Following the butler into Hood House, Rex was slightly surprised to find it fairly under siege. While he had certainly been intrigued by Miss Wilson last night, inside the ballroom, she was not the type to draw attention. Granted, he had left the ball far earlier than initially planned, but he had trouble imagining her doing something that would draw such a crowd without creating a scandal—and in the event of something scandalous, he would not have expected the ladies to be at-home.
The reason for the unexpected assemblage was discovered when he was shown into the drawing-room—Miss Wilson was not the only debutante entertaining the at-home. Two other young ladies sat on either side of her, both drawing the majority of the attention from the gathered gentlemen. Rex immediately recognized Miss Davis, his identification confirmed by the Duchess of Richmond’s presence. The Duchess sat on one of the couches, comfortably chatting with Viscountess Hood. The other young lady was not known to him, but she was quite beautiful and chatted animatedly, drawing nearly every eye in the room.
Sitting between them, Miss Wilson looked quietly happy, listening to the dark-haired beauty on her left as intently as any of the men. Compared to Miss Davis and the other debutante, there was nothing about her to draw the eye. She was beautiful in an unremarkable way—an English rose next to two flashier flowers, and while her dress was complementary to her looks, it did nothing to set her apart from the crowd.
Without last night, he would have been immediately drawn to the mystery debutante, something about her reminding him keenly of Arabella, but instead, his attention was arrested by Miss Wilson’s return to her muted disposition.
“The Marquess of Hartford,” the butler announced, his voice dryly devoid of inflection. Silence dropped over the room as if he had rung a bell, the gathered suitors’ heads popping up and around like a startled flock of birds, hearing the approach of a predator. Miss Wilson’s mouth opened in shock as she stared back at him, Miss Davis sat up straighter, and the third young lady actually gasped.
The Duchess of Richmond and Viscountess Hood were much more circumspect in their reactions, but they could not entirely conceal their shock. Still, the social niceties must be observed, and his past year of running within the boundaries of respectabletonhad born fruit—after a considering moment, both ladies smiled at him, their gazes sharpening. The wholetonknew he was on the search for a bride, and he could hardly compromise any of the debutantes here in the middle of an at-home. It was safe to allow him entrance without having to be unduly concerned about their charges’ reputations.
Likely they were wonderingwhichdebutante he was there for.
Rather than drawing all eyes to Miss Wilson, Rex smiled and bowed before turning his gaze over the room until he met Arabella’s eyes. She was in the corner with the Countess of Spencer, watching the gathering, the two of them thick as thieves. Rex nodded his head at her and made his way over to the pair as conversation sprang up again.
If anything, it was noisier, the gentlemen now vying to ensure the debutantes were focused onthem,not Rex. A frown began to form on his face when he realized the gentlemen were still only focused on the two ladies flanking Miss Wilson. Yes, they were beautiful, and Miss Davies was the goddaughter of a Duchess, but Miss Wilson was not a nonentity. The lack of competition made his own aim easier, yet… he felt mildly insulted on her behalf.
Shaking off the reaction, he focused on Arabella and the Countess, bowing before them.
“Ladies,” he murmured in greeting.
“Rex,” Arabella replied happily before gesturing to the Countess. “Have you met the Countess of Spencer?”
“We have met.” The Countess answered before he could. “Please, call me Cynthia.”
“And you may call me Rex.” He gave her another little bow of acknowledgment, pretending he could not see down the front of her dress from his current position standing over her. The gown skirted the edges of decency for day wear, and her abundant curves made the neckline even more precarious.
Both of them smiled up at him, eyes dancing with mirth, the expectant expressions on their faces vaguely unsettling. He had encountered the Countess—Cynthia—before. It was a shame she had not debuted in London. Rex would have happily courted and married her. Unfortunately, the Earl of Spencer had snapped her up before she ever made it to her debut. Unlike Arabella, who had settled somewhat with marriage, Cynthia was constantly testing the limits of polite Society. She had a reputation as an Original, although she would likely have been labeled far worse if not for her marriage to the Earl and the social power her mother-in-law wielded. Rex found her quite charming and had even extended an invitation to Spencer to jointheSociety, but the Earl had politely turned him down.
“What brings you out this afternoon?” Arabella asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. Rex had always appreciated her forthrightness.
As they were in the corner of the room, they would be harder to overhear, but Rex still lowered his voice, angling his body away from the crowd to give him what privacy he could.
“I wanted to ask about your cousin, Miss Wilson.”
“Mary?” Arabella blinked in surprise. “For you?” To his surprise, she frowned.
“What is wrong with me?” he asked, a touch irritably. After all, Arabella had consented to him courtingher.
“Nothing iswrongwith you.” Arabella gave him a look bordering on exasperation. “It is just… Mary is so quiet and unassuming. I know you were introduced last night, and while she’s a lovely girl and very sweet, I would not have expected her to catch your interest.”