Late for the Wedding by Amanda Quick Page A

because she believed that her offspring’s looks were set off to advantage by the contrast between the two young women.
    Emeline was well-aware that her chief claim to fashion was her thick, dark hair. In other respects, she knew very well that she did not meet the demands of true connoisseurs of style. She was too tall and too slender and her personality was much too forthright. The last was no accident. She had deliberately patterned herself after her aunt. Lavinia rarely bothered to veil her intelligence, nor did she hesitate to state her opinions.
    “After all those explosive demonstrations, I believe I feel the need of some cooling ice cream,” Anthony announced, getting to his feet. “Can I persuade the two of you to join me?”
    “You will not have to ask me a second time,” Emeline assured him. “It is very warm in this hall, is it not?”
    “Ice cream sounds wonderful,” Priscilla said. “It is rather hot in here. I had not noticed until this moment.”
    Emeline laughed. “That is because you were too occupied with the wonders of Professor Kirk’s demonstrations.”
    Anthony stood back to allow Emeline and Priscilla to go ahead of him down the aisle toward the front of the hall. The crowd thickened briefly as several people left their seats at the same time and made for the doors.
    When the path cleared a moment later, Emeline caught sight of the man who lounged with negligent ease, one shoulder propped against the wall. A disturbing sensation went around her. This was not the first time Dominic Hood had materialized in the vicinity of herself and her companions in the past few days.
    “Bloody hell,” Anthony muttered behind her. “Hood is here.”
    Priscilla was the only one who was unabashedly delighted to see him. “I did not know that Mr. Hood was interested in science.”
    “What an astounding surprise,” Anthony growled.
    “Calm yourself,” Emeline said in low tones. “I do not know why it is that you and Mr. Hood have taken such a dislike to each other, but I do not want any awkward scenes today. Is that understood?”
    “What occurred yesterday at the museum was not my fault.”
    “Mr. Hood may have started things off on the wrong foot when he gave us his opinion of that statue of Hercules and the Hydra, but you, sir, made matters a good deal worse when you informed him that he knew nothing about art.”
    “I merely spoke the truth,” Anthony said, icily virtuous. “Hood has no eye for art or antiquities.”
    “That may be true, but it was very poor manners to tell him so to his face.”
    “He should have kept his remarks about the statue to himself. I wonder if he will prove to be as ignorant about science?”
    “I am serious, Anthony. There will be no scenes. Do you understand?”
    He smiled coldly in a way that was uncomfortably reminiscent of Mr. March.
    “I give you my word that I will not start a public quarrel,” he said.
    There was no time to pin him down on the details of that too-precisely phrased promise, because they had almost reached the door. Emeline busied herself tying her bonnet strings. She used the moment to study Dominic Hood more closely, wondering again what it was that had created such immediate hostility between him and Anthony.
    In her opinion, they should have been instant friends, she thought. On the surface, they appeared to have a great deal in common. Dominic was the same age as Anthony, who had turned twenty-two last month. They were also of a similar height and both were endowed with lean, athletic frames.
    They shared a sense of style too, she thought. The coat Dominic wore was remarkably similar to Anthony's, dark blue and cut to emphasize his shoulders. Their pleated trousers and patterned waistcoats were almost identical. They both had handsome fobs attached to their pocket watches and intricate knots tied in their snowy white cravats.
    It was true that Dominic appeared to possess the sort of resources that enabled him to patronize a more