She leaned back against him. “I can say with certainty that at least two of the gentlemen who are bound to be in attendance tonight would have insisted only four Seasons ago that a wonderful evening in my company was an impossibility.”
Gillian had told him a little more of her experience of being attacked and mocked and mistreated by thetonduring her first year in London. His heart had broken even as his anger had flared.
“Tell me their names, and I will make certain they depart thiscrushdecidedly the worse for wear.”
She reached a hand up and rested it lovingly against his cheek, still watching him in the mirror. “I think you like me, Scott Sarvol.”
“Iloveyou, Gillian Sarvol.” He turned his head and kissed her palm, then the inside of her wrist, then bent to sprinkle kisses all the way to her elbow.
“If you keep that up, we’ll be late.” It was a warning, but he did not for a moment think it was a complaint.
“I don’t mind, if you don’t.” He kissed her neck.
“Believe me, you do not want to miss the Huntresses’ debut arrival for the Season. Artemis is a strategic genius, and that is on full display each year at the Debenham ball.”
“Do you promise to remind me when we get home where we left off?” he whispered in her ear.
“I solemnly vow.”
A mere moment later, the Kielder carriage, having been commandeered by Artemis for the evening, arrived, and Scott accompanied his wife to their first Society event as a married couple.
As they waited their turn to alight from the carriage at the fine London home of Lord and Lady Debenham, Scott looked to Charlie. “What is our role in the strategic arrival tonight?”
It was, in actuality, Charlie’s first time participating as well, but he knew the role. “They are the Huntresses, and we are the whippers-in.”
“Ah.” Though Scott had not been raised in England and, thus, had never personally participated in a fox hunt, he knew theterm. A whipper-in functioned as an assistant and a support to a hunter. In this case, to a huntress.He bowed to the ladies. “It will be my honor.”
The other Huntresses were in the vestibule, awaiting their arrival, all but Lisette, who was not expected from France for weeks yet, perhaps not at all. Even Daria was in London for the social whirl, something Gillian had been unsure would happen.
Newton Hughes, who was married to Ellie—the Huntress that Scott had not yet met—was there. Being the only one of the three gentlemen who had made this debut before, he took charge of his fellow whippers-in. “We walk arm in arm with our wives, but allow Artemis to set the pace and the tone,” Newton said.
“And that tone will, without question, be ‘Here we are; the Season can begin,’” Charlie said.
Scott let himself thoroughly enjoy the moment. “Rather remarkable, these ladies. Aren’t they?”
“Entirely remarkable.” Newton moved to his wife’s side.
Charlie did the same.
Gillian slipped her arm through Scott’s the moment he arrived beside her.
“I am prepared to be amazed,” Scott said.
“That is a very good thing, because we are inarguably amazing.”
Daria took her place beside and trailing Gillian the slightest bit. With Artemis at their head, the Huntresses formed a V and moved with confident stride into the ballroom.
All heads turned. Most conversations stopped. Through it all, the Huntresses glided with confidence and poise. No one seeing them would guess at their struggles, at the difficulties Scott learned more of all the time.
Artemis had taught them not to merely survive but to seize the narrative and claim the place they deserved to have. She had fought for them and protected them while they’d foundtheir footing and built their own foundations. And they were, as Gillian had said, inarguably amazing.
They’d not been present long when a waltz was struck up. The dance was still not widely accepted at Society gatherings, but it was not considered scandalous in the way it had been when it had first arrived in England some few years earlier.
For Scott’s part, it would always be his favorite. It was the first dance he’d had with Gillian. And it had led to the first time he’d held her. He would always consider it their dance.
He dipped a bow to her. “Would you dance with me, my dear?”
“You do remember my warning that waltzes undertaken at a ball cannot end in an embrace the way they tend to do in gazebos?”