before she exited the coach at her townhouse in Royal Crescent. “And thank you for the escort home, Mr. Russell.” Lydia waved goodbye from the top step of the elegant home her father had recently purchased as their new residence.
Portia had convinced their father that Bath was the best place to find a husband, and so he had quickly purchased a home on the most fashionable street in Bath, the illustrious Royal Crescent. Lydia did enjoy living in the most elegant part of the city, but Bath was not as popular as it had once been. It seemed most of the younger crowd frequented other places, such as London or seaside resorts like Brighton. However, a wealth of older families still resided in Bath, and Portia was insistent she would find a handsome young man with a title and money here. Lydia knew that to find all three qualities of looks, good fortune, and a title wasn’t easy, but she could not convince her sister otherwise.
As she entered their townhouse, their butler, Mr. Annis, met her at the door.
“Did you have a good evening, Miss Hunt?”
“I did.” She’d certainly had fun with Lysandra, even if she hadn’t been asked to dance as much as she would have liked.
Annis smiled warmly at her. “I’m glad to hear it. Mrs. Kloester has a glass of milk and a few biscuits for you in your room. We anticipated your arrival after Miss Portia arrived home.”
“Thank you, Annis. Was Portia still upset? I hope she and Mrs. Wilcox did not quarrel too much during the ride home.”
“Er, no. Quite the opposite, really. Miss Portia seemed rather pleased about something. She went to bed humming.”
“Humming?” Lydia sensed impending doom, though she could not guess as to what form it would take. Her sister was up to something.
“If you need anything at all, I shall be awake another hour,” the butler said.
“No, go on to bed, Annis.” She started toward the stairs, then paused. “Annis? Is my father home, or did he go to his club this evening?”
“He’s home, Miss Hunt. In his study, I believe.”
Lydia changed course and headed for her father’s study. The door was ajar, but she knocked anyway.
“Papa?”
“Yes, my child?”
Lydia nudged the door open and slipped inside. Jackson Hunt was reading a book in one hand and holding a glass of scotch in the other. Her father was tall and fit and still quite attractive for a man in his early fifties. He had a ready wit and indulgent kindness that people often mistook for weakness, but he was in fact a shrewd businessman. With a tidy fortune and a country estate in Surrey, the Hunt family was well off enough that most society doors opened to them. Especially the homes where unmarried young men had caught a glimpse of Portia.
“How are you, my dear?” Jackson set his book aside and gestured to a chair across from his desk.
“Fine, Papa.” She seated herself and tried to plan her next words as best she could.
“Yes?”
“I am worried about Portia.”
“Oh? What’s the little bit gone and done now?” He gave a smile he only reserved for Portia, and it pricked at Lydia’s heart like a thorn. He had no special smiles like that reserved for her.
“She’s taken a fancy to a Scotsman. He was in questionable company tonight at the assembly rooms, and Lysandra Russell warned Portia not to take an interest in him. I am worried she is going to do something reckless in order to obtain a marriage to this gentleman.”
Jackson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “What kind of reckless?”
“Well, to start with, she walked up to this gentleman and introduced herself, rather than having the master of ceremonies introduce her. You know how strict the protocol is for the assembly rooms. She was lucky not to be cast out and banned from returning.”
Lydia had always thought the position of master of ceremonies was silly, but it was derived from the royal courts and was designed to supervise public behavior and help maintain a level of decorum and manners at social functions. If one displeased or upset the master of ceremonies, one would likely be disgraced.
Jackson chuckled at Lydia’s mention of Portia’s outburst. “Well, at least she goes after what she desires. It reminds me of myself. I was about your age when I first saw your mother. There was nothing that could keep me away from her.”
Lydia knew then that her request for Portia to be checked would