“I will make some suggestions as well.” Walter sat down beside Thomas. “No offense intended, brother.”
“Of course not.” Thomas threw up his hands in apparent defeat, looking more disgruntled than ever. “How could I possibly take offense?” Mary and Arabella started giggling, and Aunt Elizabeth pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.
“We will go over your suggestions at dinner,” Aunt Elizabeth said, smiling fondly at her sons. “We must be off. Mary needs some dresses to suit her new coloring.”
Both Thomas and Walter’s gazes turned to her, and they frowned simultaneously. Even in her own family’s household, Mary was so good at fading into the background, her cousins had apparently not noticed her hair.
“What new coloring?” Thomas asked, speaking over top of Walter.
“Why is your hair blonde?” Walter’s gaze cut away from her to censor his older brother. “She had red hair last year.”
“She did?” Thomas squinted at her as if trying to picture it.
If only Mrs. Biggins were there to see how little Mary’s hair had to do with her lack of offers last Season. Then again, she might argue Mary’s first cousins were hardly examples of the kind of gentlemen who might have taken notice of her hair color.
“Why does everyone care so much about my hair?” she muttered irritably.
“Nothing much new has happened otherwise,” Arabella said with a shrug, getting to her feet. “Without Gabrielle and Beatrice here for us to fuss over, you are going to hold all of our interest.”
Blinking in surprise, Mary was taken aback. She had never been the center ofanyone’sinterest, except perhaps Mrs. Biggins. Even last year, Aunt Elizabeth’s attention had been split between steering Gabrielle in her first Season as Felix’s wife, looking for a suitable bride for Thomas, and sponsoring Mary. It had been split further when Uncle Henry’s health had declined.
“Oh.” Mary did not know what else to say to that.
Walter grinned, lifting his coffee cup to toast her.
“Enjoy, cuz,” he said. “My mother’s exclusive attention is a thing to behold.”
Aunt Elizabeth shot him a look. “And when Mary is settled, I will be happy to give your future all the attention it needs, dear.”
“No need.” Unperturbed, Walter shook his head. “I am perfectly content with my life as it is. I have no intention of marrying any time soon, if ever. You will have to look to Thomas and Felix to provide you with grandchildren.”
“We shall see,” Aunt Elizabeth said, turning away. “Come, Mary, Arabella. Bruton street awaits.”
Inwardly sighing, Mary trotted obediently after her. Part of her wanted to bask in the idea of having her Aunt’s unreserved attention. Even though Aunt Elizabeth was not her mother, she acted more so than Mary’s own mother did. At any other time, Mary would have been delighted, but how the devil was she supposed to question Arabella about Hartford with Aunt Elizabeth hovering around?
Rex
The opening of the Season proper was upon him. Rex moved through the ballroom like the predator he was. The Duke and Duchess of Richmond’s ball was always a crush, but Rex’s reputation was well known, and he was tall enough and his, he had little trouble cutting a path through the throng. Thetonopened up around him and closed behind him, like a school of fish around a shark, eyeing him warily to see if he might take a bite.
They were all safe enough for tonight.
Especially the wide-eyed simpering misses on the petticoat line.
Their protective mamas watched him warily, clearly wondering whether a chance at his title and fortune was worth risking their daughter’s reputation for. After all, if he married the chit, the gamble would have paid off, but if he did not…
Rex had no desire to leave any young lady’s reputation in tatters, so he avoided them altogether. He would do what he had done the year before—stay on the sideline, observing, and making his choice. Once he knew which lady he wanted to pursue, he would approach her guardian and court her. It had almost worked with Arabella.
It should have worked with Arabella.
As if summoned by his thoughts of her, his former quarry appeared in front of him on the arm of her husband. Another young lady hung on Hood’s arm, petite and pretty, but Rex paid her no heed—his focus was on the woman who had almost been his wife.
Stalking up to the trio, he glared down at her, ignoring her husband’s fierce glower.
“Are you happy?” he asked, knowing he sounded uncharacteristically petulant, and Arabella would be highly amused by it. “Here I am again, a second year, running around the ballrooms, all because you had to go and drop this poor gentleman into the parson’s trap.”
The blonde on Hood’s arm giggled, but Arabella laughed outright as Hood’s mouth opened and closed rather like a fish.
“Perhaps you would have better luck finding your own bride if you left mine alone,” Hood retorted, but the comment was made without the heat it would have held prior to his marriage to Arabella. Unlike last year, the couple seemed to have settled into their relationship nicely. Thanks to his time with both Society and the Society, Rex had a finely-honed instinct when a pair was secure with their partner. He was happy for Arabella and wished her well, but he was still struck by a strong pang of envy for Hood’s good luck. It made him want to get under the other man’s skin.