rose pink, stood with her older sister by one of the long windows. “You look perfectly splendid,” Verity told her when she reached them.
Emma looked down at her gown. “It is pretty, isn’t it? Hilda said I looked like the top of a chocolate box.”
“I expect she’s jealous,” said Verity.
“She could never bear to wait her turn,” sighed Emma’s older sister. “And now I’ve had to confine her to her room as punishment for sneaking off. Lud knows what revenge she’s plotting. Oh. Wait here, Emma, I’m going to speak to someone.” She moved off in a rustle of cobalt silk.
“Is the rest of your family here?” Verity asked Emma. She hadn’t spotted Lord Randolph in the crowd.
“Sebastian escorted us.” Emma heaved a great sigh. “I shan’t be able to waltz,” she said. “We haven’t been to Almack’s. I don’t see why we must all wait to be approved there.”
“We don’t aspire to vouchers,” Verity replied.
“I could see if Georgina would ask for you.”
“I don’t care about going.” Verity spotted Olivia and gave a little wave. “What a beautiful dress,” she said when that young lady joined them. Olivia wore a gown of pale-blue tissue over white satin with a rather daring neckline. A sapphire ornament sparkled in her brown hair, matching a lovely bracelet. The ensemble referenced her father’s wealth without flaunting it, Verity thought.
Georgina came back with a young gentleman in tow. “Emma, this is Mr. Lionel Packenham. Mr. Packenham, may I present my sister, Lady Emma Stane?”
Verity felt a pang of envy over Georgina’s social expertise. She sometimes felt she was guiding her mother through the season rather than vice versa. Although Mr. Packenham wasn’t terribly handsome, he had an engaging smile. Emma seemed pleased, and that was the important thing.
The two went off to join the set forming in the center of the large room. Georgina was summoned by her husband to do the same.
“What a wet fish,” said Olivia.
“Olivia!”
“Packenham,” Olivia added. “Oh, Packenham. Impeccable pedigree and tub loads of money. He doesn’t require a chin.”
“Someone will hear you.”
“In this din? Never. But I must tell you my great coup.” She leaned a little closer. “I’ve gotten a copy of Herr Grossmann’s notes about Mr. Rochford.”
“Did you bribe his assistant?” Verity asked.
“You’re too clever. You’ve spoiled my story. But yes, I did. And now I know all of Mr. Rochford’s innermost secrets.”
“Really? Such as?”
Olivia made a face. “Unfortunately there wasn’t much more than what Herr Grossmann said in public. But I can pretend there were desperate revelations.”
“Mightn’t that make Mr. Rochford angry?”
“I hope so. One strong emotion leads to another.”
As Verity considered this dubious proposition, the musicians showed signs of beginning. Olivia surveyed the room. “We don’t want to be labeled wallflowers. Ah.” She summoned a tall young man with a gesture. “Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, Ronald?”
“Naturally,” he said with a bow.
“A crony of my older brother,” Olivia told Verity. “Known him since I was seven. Do you have a friend with you for Miss Sinclair, Ronald?”
Verity would have preferred to find her own partner, had she known anyone.
“All engaged for this set, I’m afraid. I hope I may snag you for the next, Miss Sinclair.”
Verity smiled and nodded. One of the few advantages of Chester was her broad acquaintance there, built up over a lifetime. She never lacked dance partners at the country assemblies. She’d resigned herself to going back to her mother when Olivia said, “Oh.” She waved, discreetly, then more broadly, attracting a good deal of amused attention before she was noticed by the young man who seemed to be her target.
With what Verity thought was reluctance, an athletic-looking fellow with dark hair and eyes came over to them.
“Have you no partner for this set, Mr. Wrentham?” Olivia said. “May I present my friend Miss Verity Sinclair?”
Mr. Wrentham was attractive, but his expression was closed. Verity felt thrust upon him as he bowed and requested the honor. She wanted to dance, however. And it wasn’t her fault that Olivia had dragged him over.
They moved onto the floor. Mr. Wrentham danced well and even smiled once or twice as they exchanged commonplaces. Half the set had passed before Verity made the connection. This was the man Miss Reynolds was mooning over, according to Olivia. She eyed him with greater interest and indulged her curiosity. “I believe I know a friend of yours,” she said.
“Indeed?”
“Miss Frances Reynolds.”
He looked down at her, true interest flickering in his brown eyes for the first