“Yes,” Edmund agreed. “But we must keep turning up the pressure.”
“I have that covered,” Jacob assured him with zeal. “I know you need to be more discreet, but I intend to spend the entire day lobbying for the Arnold girls in the billiard room here, at the Boodles’ gaming tables tonight, and at the races tomorrow. If I have my way, the society hostesses won’t be able to field a single presentable man under forty this season.”
Edmund smiled his approval of the plan, believing in its fairness and impact, and also suspecting that it relieved some of Jacob’s urges to help Kitty further without quite knowing what he could do.
When he returned home after lunch, the house was busy. His mother was just seeing someone out of the drawing room, and his sister Sophia pulled him quickly from the hallway into the study to prevent him from being seen.
“They were talking about you,” she whispered excitedly, putting a finger to her lips. “Listen.”
“Indeed, Lady Sunbury, I do very much hope that it can all be resolved quickly. It would be such a shame otherwise. But young men do have a will of their own, and the best of them are not under the thumbs of their mothers. Edmund must do as he thinks best.”
“Quite, Your Grace, I do understand. But it has made things so very awkward for us suddenly having seven fewer men, and all of them young, single men of good fortune.”
“I will certainly tell Edmund that you called.” Unity’s voice was loud and clear enough for Edmund and Sophia to recognize that she knew they were in the study. They grinned at one another. “Lord Greene has always been a close friend of his, just as Lady Templeton has always been a good friend of mine. I do understand his sympathy.”
“Yes, dear Esther… of course. You must give her my love.”
“Naturally, Lady Sunbury. I will be writing to her this very afternoon with all the news.”
There was a pause, and Edmund imagined the two ladies standing together at the drawing room door, his mother smiling sweetly but with her usual iron behind those finely drawn features. He had seen her cry at his father’s death but never before or since.
“Then, please, could you let her know that she and her family would be very welcome at our ball next month?” Lady Sunbury asked. “Since you are handling the family’s arrangements for the Season due to Lord Templeton’s illness, I will send the invitation here, if I may.”
“Certainly, that would be best. Esther will be very glad to hear from you. It means a great deal to know that her friends are thinking of her.”
After a few more pleasantries, Lady Sunbury was shown out by the butler, and Edmund and Sophia emerged from the study.
“Insufferable woman!” their mother said shortly, shaking her head at the front door. “Did you hear her? Dear Esther, my foot! She was ready to snub the poor woman without a second thought.”
“It sounds like you used up all your patience in speaking to Lady Sunbury,” Edmund observed.
“Oh no, it wasn’t just Lady Sunbury. I’ve had quite a stream of callers while you were out Edmund. All hypocrites and following the same pattern. Do not repeat any of this, Sophia, especially not to your younger sister.”
“I never would, Mother,” Sophia assured, always keen to be included in adult conversation rather than lumped together with Beatrice who was only just coming out. “Although I don’t quite understand what’s going on. Felicity Alton said that Edmund and many other young men have sent regrets for her ball, and that’s one of the biggest balls of the Season. What are you all up to?”
Unity and Edmund exchanged glances.
“I have declined several invitations this season,” Edmund admitted slowly and carefully, “because the hostesses in question have chosen to discriminate against the Arnold family, good friends we’ve always been close to. It would be wrong of me to accept their hospitality while knowing the hurt they’re inflicting on people I respect and care about.”
“So, now they’re all coming to call on Mother and she’s talking them around. That is clever, Edmund. I did think it was jolly rotten what happened to Percy and his family. It’s horrid that people want to make them even more miserable now. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“If you’re asked about me by any of your friends or their mothers,” Edmund said, “tell them exactly what we’ve told you."
“But not a word to Beatrice in the meantime,” Unity reiterated. “She’s expecting to have Edmund beside her at all these events. I do hope we can untangle this before the Season starts.”
Unity continued to field similar calls the following day, and the next, as the little campaign continued to bear its fruit of distressed society ladies suddenly lacking eligible young men for their events. Unity, Sophia and Jacob’s band of various brothers, nephews and cousins all made it known that the exclusion of the Arnold girls lay at the root of the problem.
The trickle of invitations that began to arrive for Diana and Kitty became a flood within the week. By the time the Arnold family was due to arrive at their London home in Belgravia, they were invited to more events than had ever been on Diana’s original calendar, and the young men of London’s elite suddenly found that they were available for Lady Alton’s and the Duchess of Stratton’s balls after all.
The night before the Arnolds were due to arrive in London, Unity invited Jacob to join a family dinner as a small celebration of their campaign’s success, although they had to rein in their conversation when Beatrice was present.
For Beatrice and Sophia, Jacob was only an old part of the family’s furniture. Well-loved but of no real personal interest to them. They excused themselves quickly from the table after pudding. Once the two young women were gone, Unity had Grigson, the butler, bring in some fine port, and she toasted Edmund’s and Jacob’s victory in fuller measure.
“I’m very proud of both of you for standing up for the Arnolds as you did.” She smiled as she lowered her glass. “It might spoil some of Diana’s and Kitty’s fun for the Season to know of this battle of society wills over them just yet, and I will keep it to myself. But I will tell them both later if you don’t. They should know the kind of men you are.”
“I will tell Diana.” Edmund nodded. “When she’s finally sick to the teeth of the London Season and its hostesses.”
“I’d rather that Lady Katherine didn’t know it was me,” Jacob admitted, his face slightly pink. “I don’t want her to feel under any obligation to me. I just didn’t want her to be hurt anymore. It wasn’t fair.”