implored.
“Whom shall we invite to join us?” asked Caroline. Her eyes scanned the room, but he sensed she was having no luck in spotting her quarry, whoever he might be. She had danced a good bit with young Ledbetter all evening, something he must nip in the bud.
“Oh, I suppose I can round up our usual crowd, Benjamin Watkins, Wesley Ames, Thomas and Robert, although to be sure I can never quite tell those two apart....” This did not receive the expected wicked laugh from Caroline. The chit was preoccupied, indeed. The question was, with what—or whom? “And Julian, of course.” Now that got her attention, he noted with approval. Good. So Julian had caught her eye again. The hundred-pound winnings almost made a weight in his pocket.
“Well, I suppose it might be pleasant at that,” she responded, turning her attention to him at last.
“You must invite some of the ladies to join us. Say an hour or two after noon? Won’t do to try to start too early. We shall barely get enough sleep as it is. Well, I shall pop off and speak to the gentlemen. We’ll call for you and your cousin at the appointed hour.” Now that brought a scowl to her lovely face. Interesting. So the cousin from the country was proving something of a thorn in the flesh. It might prove an entertaining sidelight to watch that byplay at tomorrow’s picnic. Perhaps he could throw a little oil on the fire. This Season was shaping up nicely, indeed.
* * * *
“Julian, you simply must join us,” Edgar importuned, having run his friend to ground in the card room, where Julian had sought refuge from the relentless Caroline Quinn.
“I’ve got business and correspondence to tend to, Edgar,” Julian replied, absently throwing down a card from his whist hand. “I don’t have time to cavort about on ant hills.”
“Actually, dear boy, we need your carriage. Fine pair of bays, you have there. Don’t you wish to give them a bit of a run?”
Julian sighed. Edgar had been pleading with him for at least the last ten minutes and showed no sign of weakening. “Can’t you hire a carriage? I really have no wish to spend tomorrow afternoon exchanging idle remarks with the same people I’m exchanging idle remarks with tonight and the same people I’ll be exchanging idle remarks with tomorrow night at Mrs. Danbury’s musicale. Actually, I’m sick of this nonsense already, and I’ve been here a bare fortnight. How do you stand all this banality year in and year out?”
Across the whist table, Wesley rolled his eyes. Mr. Middleton, a newcomer, looked vaguely offended, and Sir Henry snored into his prodigious mustache. He had to be awakened each time it was his turn to play a card.
“I’d take offense, dear boy, but I’m sure you’re just annoyed because you have such a bad hand.” He paused to allow Julian to throw him an exasperated look over his shoulder. “Look here, Caroline Quinn is gathering up the demoiselles to grace our picnic. And if their conversation bores you silly, why you can entertain yourself watching Caroline make the country cousin’s life miserable. I do believe things are fraying there quite satisfactorily.”
“The cousin will come as well?” Julian asked, very deliberately keeping his tone disinterested. Edgar was like a rat terrier when it came to sniffing around other people’s business.
“Why, of course she will. P’raps we could ferret out what happened this evening. Mama Quinn bounced the cousin out of here several hours ago, most unceremoniously. Quite the delicious mystery, eh?” Edgar smirked.
“Not at all. I happened to be there when Mrs. Q. made her excuses. The Headache, Quite Severe. Miss Quinn kindly offered to see to her comfort, that’s all.”
“Ah, quite the little spinster-companion she’s turning out to be. No competition for our Perennial Toast, is she?”
Julian made no reply, merely threw down another card, barely noticing which one. The hand really was an abomination.
“You’ll
“Whom shall we invite to join us?” asked Caroline. Her eyes scanned the room, but he sensed she was having no luck in spotting her quarry, whoever he might be. She had danced a good bit with young Ledbetter all evening, something he must nip in the bud.
“Oh, I suppose I can round up our usual crowd, Benjamin Watkins, Wesley Ames, Thomas and Robert, although to be sure I can never quite tell those two apart....” This did not receive the expected wicked laugh from Caroline. The chit was preoccupied, indeed. The question was, with what—or whom? “And Julian, of course.” Now that got her attention, he noted with approval. Good. So Julian had caught her eye again. The hundred-pound winnings almost made a weight in his pocket.
“Well, I suppose it might be pleasant at that,” she responded, turning her attention to him at last.
“You must invite some of the ladies to join us. Say an hour or two after noon? Won’t do to try to start too early. We shall barely get enough sleep as it is. Well, I shall pop off and speak to the gentlemen. We’ll call for you and your cousin at the appointed hour.” Now that brought a scowl to her lovely face. Interesting. So the cousin from the country was proving something of a thorn in the flesh. It might prove an entertaining sidelight to watch that byplay at tomorrow’s picnic. Perhaps he could throw a little oil on the fire. This Season was shaping up nicely, indeed.
* * * *
“Julian, you simply must join us,” Edgar importuned, having run his friend to ground in the card room, where Julian had sought refuge from the relentless Caroline Quinn.
“I’ve got business and correspondence to tend to, Edgar,” Julian replied, absently throwing down a card from his whist hand. “I don’t have time to cavort about on ant hills.”
“Actually, dear boy, we need your carriage. Fine pair of bays, you have there. Don’t you wish to give them a bit of a run?”
Julian sighed. Edgar had been pleading with him for at least the last ten minutes and showed no sign of weakening. “Can’t you hire a carriage? I really have no wish to spend tomorrow afternoon exchanging idle remarks with the same people I’m exchanging idle remarks with tonight and the same people I’ll be exchanging idle remarks with tomorrow night at Mrs. Danbury’s musicale. Actually, I’m sick of this nonsense already, and I’ve been here a bare fortnight. How do you stand all this banality year in and year out?”
Across the whist table, Wesley rolled his eyes. Mr. Middleton, a newcomer, looked vaguely offended, and Sir Henry snored into his prodigious mustache. He had to be awakened each time it was his turn to play a card.
“I’d take offense, dear boy, but I’m sure you’re just annoyed because you have such a bad hand.” He paused to allow Julian to throw him an exasperated look over his shoulder. “Look here, Caroline Quinn is gathering up the demoiselles to grace our picnic. And if their conversation bores you silly, why you can entertain yourself watching Caroline make the country cousin’s life miserable. I do believe things are fraying there quite satisfactorily.”
“The cousin will come as well?” Julian asked, very deliberately keeping his tone disinterested. Edgar was like a rat terrier when it came to sniffing around other people’s business.
“Why, of course she will. P’raps we could ferret out what happened this evening. Mama Quinn bounced the cousin out of here several hours ago, most unceremoniously. Quite the delicious mystery, eh?” Edgar smirked.
“Not at all. I happened to be there when Mrs. Q. made her excuses. The Headache, Quite Severe. Miss Quinn kindly offered to see to her comfort, that’s all.”
“Ah, quite the little spinster-companion she’s turning out to be. No competition for our Perennial Toast, is she?”
Julian made no reply, merely threw down another card, barely noticing which one. The hand really was an abomination.
“You’ll
Similar Books
