Always the Rival (Never the Bride #7) - Emily E K Murdoch Page 0,63

suppose that comes with property, land, that sort of thing…”

Priscilla smiled at the newest member of their group. Was it at the Montacute ball or Almack’s – no, it could not be Almack’s, Miss Darby had never attended.

Well, one ball or another, that was where they had met. She was a lovely girl, really, and she had become part of the loose group of friends and acquaintances that Priscilla saw throughout the Season.

Miss Worsley was offering to refresh their cups, and Priscilla leaned forward with the others to receive more of the delicious sweet tea.

She should be more grateful, really. There were plenty of people who had no one, no friends or acquaintances to confide in. Priscilla was fortunate to have three, at the very least, who would always be a pleasant distraction.

But without Charles, her closest friend…

Priscilla looked at the clock. Six minutes without thinking about Charles. She was getting worse at this, not better.

“ – and of course, now they are engaged to be married!” Miss Darby finished her monologue with a bright smile. “Another society wedding!”

Priscilla tried not to sigh as she leaned back with her now full teacup.

“I heard the gown Miss Isabella is to wear for her own wedding is most splendid,” Miss Worsley said, looking at Miss Lymington, who snorted.

“Yes, my sister’s wedding plans are of the most extravagant kind,” she said, not bothering to take the derision from her tones. “Issy always wanted the best, and now she has bagged a duke of her own, there is no stopping her!”

“I did not know your sister was marrying a duke!” Miss Darby leaned forward, evidently desperate for more details. “When did they become engaged?”

Priscilla did not need to look up to imagine the look on Miss Lymington’s face. Her younger twin sister engaged before her, and to a duke no less. It was no wonder Miss Lymington grew bored with the topic.

“Oh, they were introduced at some gathering or another,” she said airily. “The wedding is to be a very fine affair if my sister has anything to do with it.”

“The gown, I heard, is to be truly splendid,” said Miss Worsley with a mischievous smile on her face.

Priscilla matched her smile. How like Miss Worsley to poke fun at Miss Lymington.

“If it is anything like her hopes, it will be worth its weight in gold,” Miss Lymington said drily.

Miss Darby breathed out slowly. “That is incredible. Tell me, how exactly…”

Priscilla allowed her mind to wander, having no personal interest in either teasing Miss Lymginton or finding out every detail of her sister’s wedding.

Weddings. Weddings and engagements, those were the only topics her friends talked about, and all four of them unattached, although Miss Lymington’s thirty thousand pounds had certainly created much interest.

There was Miss Darby, no name or fortune, and that unfortunate habit of talking on so long and so fast that no gentleman was likely to be able to get a word in edgeways. There had been a little gossip about the Marquis of Gloucester, but nothing had happened.

Miss Worsley. That broken engaged had hung over her like a cloud, and her rebellious nature meant she was unlikely to permit a gentleman to attempt to court her.

Miss Lymington. Priscilla smiled into her teacup as she drained it. She had become so infatuated with the idea of marrying royalty, and if nobility could not be found, well, her thirty thousand pounds had given her airs she had not been bred to. It was unlikely she would find a gentleman worthy enough for her.

And then there was herself. All four of them, now Priscilla came to think about it, were unlikely to be brides any time soon.

Perhaps the only way they would experience a wedding was vicariously – through their conversation of others.

Her armchair was comfortable, and her tea sweet as she allowed the conversation to wash over her.

She would never marry. She had wanted Charles, and now she could not have him. She could not comprehend the idea of marrying another.

The very idea she could stand at the altar with another gentleman, take vows, lie in bed with him…

It was an utterly ridiculous thought.

“Miss Seton, are you quite well?”

Priscilla blinked and saw Miss Lymginton looked concerned.

“Quite well, I thank you,” Priscilla said as calmly as she could manage. “I was just wondering whether I could have another slice of your excellent cake.”

Miss Worsley shrugged. “Help yourself, you know you can. Cake has little interest for me.”

Priscilla reached for another slice and placed her