One Final Season by Elizabeth Beacon Page A

was Izzie, who would be here very soon—how could Kate not be here to witness her little sister’s social triumphs and enjoy her lively company once more? It might hurt far too much that Edmund had decided to look elsewhere for a bride and a lover, but she was an Alstone and would not turn tail and run at the first setback put in her path by unkind fate.
    There was Eiliane to consider as well, of course, and, come to think of it, she was oddly distracted tonight and unlike her usual sharp-eyed self for some reason. Her chaperon had hardly seemed to notice Bestholme’s increasingly bizarre behaviour tonight and Kate frowned as she wondered belatedly if there was something seriously wrong with her dear friend and mentor. Then she had her two newest friends to see safely wed, of course, and Amelia Transome had gallantly deployed her most determined chatter on Kate’s behalf tonight in a selfless way that commanded equal loyalty. Even Mr Cromer had put his stalwart silence between her and Mr Bestholme as often as he could without seeming too particular himself, but nothing had put the awful man off his single-minded pursuit of her fortune.
    Kate could practically hear the ill-natured gossip breaking out all around her if she went back into the ballroom to make sure her chaperon wasn’t sickening for something. Awarding herself five minutes of peace and quiet would do no harm, she assured herself cravenly, and stole on through the half darkness of the private rooms of their host and hostess’s town house with a guilty sense of playing truant from reality and fortune hunters, as well as intruding on their privacy.

    Edmund eyed the assembled company and almost wished he’d stayed in Herefordshire this Season after all. Yet the fine hairs on the nape of his neck were prickling as if trying to warn him of some danger the rest of him was slow to pick up. Lady Tedinton, with her silly pretence that he had already been her lover and would shortly be so again, was a damnably inconvenient complication he’d certainly not bargained for and he’d had to waste far too much time tonight avoiding her very obvious lures and any hint he might be susceptible to them. He did his best not to meet her gaze as he searched the room in vain for a glimpse of Kate’s glorious red curls, but something told him he’d soon have to take the time and trouble to convince Selene Tedinton once and for all that she meant nothing to him and never would, in terms even she couldn’t misinterpret as part of the game she so loved to play.
    ‘Something’s amiss,’ Cromer informed him brusquely as he joined him with a worried frown on his face.
    ‘There’s always scheming afoot at affairs like this one,’ Edmund responded coolly, even if his friend’s unease only added to his own.
    ‘Miss Transome claims that Lady T. and Bestholme are up to something,’ Cromer said with resigned acceptance that Amelia’s sayings and doings were more important to him than he’d dreamed they could be until recently.
    ‘Any idea what?’ Edmund asked, suddenly very interested in them as well.
    ‘Don’t know. Unholy pair at the best of times. Welcome to each other, except the Tedinton woman keeps looking at Miss Alstone as if she’d like to kill her slowly, then stamp on her grave. Miss Transome’s convinced the woman’s hatching a scheme to put Miss Alstone out of the picture for good so far as you’re concerned.’
    ‘She’s mistaken her adversary then,’ Edmund said curtly.
    ‘Or her quarry.’
    ‘Yes, she couldn’t be more wrong there,’ Edmund replied softly.
    ‘Going to stand here gossiping all night, then?’ Cromer prompted.
    ‘No, I’ll deal with the harpy in my own good time, after I’ve tracked down Miss Alstone and seen her safely back to her chaperon’s side once more.’
    ‘Aye, she’s been gone too long for her own good. You go and find out where she’s up to and we’ll cover your backs as best we can.’
    ‘Thank you, the