A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,38
looked briefly at Harry. “I’ll do that.”
Harry’s father was going to be furious. But if this was a legitimate endeavor that was about to be further legitimized by a group of Society ladies, what could he do? It seemed Harry was going to have to talk to his father about this—but not tonight.
Turning his head, Harry smiled at his mother. “Perhaps I’ll come along.”
Mother’s brow creased, and she blinked in surprise. “Will you?”
“Probably, to make sure it’s not a fraud,” Rachel said.
Harry slid a look toward Lady Gresham, who seemed to be taking care not to make eye contact with him. It would become apparent the moment he—and Lady Gresham—went to Winter’s that they’d been before, because the Winters would surely say something about them having already paid a visit.
Which meant he ought to just admit it right now, but then he’d have to explain why he’d gone there. Not to mention his sister would take great delight in the fact that he’d gone with Lady Gresham.
No, he wasn’t sharing that now, and maybe not ever. He’d talk to Lady Gresham about them both not joining this excursion. What a bloody tangle it was to keep secrets, especially in this family.
Rachel abruptly turned to Lady Gresham. “Excuse me, I’ve just remembered I wanted to tell Miss Whitford something.”
“And I need to speak with Delia,” Harry’s mother said.
They both extricated themselves and went to the settee. Harry stared after them, nonplussed by their lack of subtlety.
“Your family is very…large,” Lady Gresham noted.
He turned to her. “I thought you were going to say obvious.”
She laughed softly, the light of amusement dancing in her eyes. “You seemed surprised when we arrived. The countess didn’t tell you we’d been invited?”
“No.”
“Would you not have come?”
His family probably thought so, and if they’d invited any other woman, he would not have. “My attendance would not have changed.”
She just barely nodded, and the light from the chandelier above caught on the jeweled comb tucked into her honey-brown hair. “That’s…nice.”
Looking about, Harry saw his sisters pairing off with their husbands, while his father offered his arm to Miss Whitford. Mother left the library first, leading the procession, which meant Harry was to escort Lady Gresham. That was, of course, not an accident.
Resigning himself to his family’s manipulations, he offered Lady Gresham his arm. “May I escort you to dinner?”
The barest smile flitted across her lips. “It seems you must.”
Harry would be annoyed with his family’s efforts if he didn’t like Lady Gresham so much. And what did that say?
“Where might I find the retiring room?” Beatrix asked as the ladies gathered upstairs in the drawing room after dinner.
“Go on upstairs and turn to the right,” Lady Aylesbury said. “Follow the short corridor, and my personal dressing chamber is just through the door on the left.”
Well, that was too perfect. Selina gave Beatrix a stare that—she hoped—clearly conveyed Don’t steal anything else!
With the barest inclination of her head, Beatrix departed the drawing room with Lady Aylesbury’s emerald necklace tucked safely into a hidden pocket in her gown. Beatrix had continued to express remorse for stealing the jewelry, which always happened after she stole something. She promised she would work harder to rein her bad habit under control.
Besides, if she took something else, Selina wasn’t certain she could garner another invitation to the Aylesburys’ in order to return it. Selina had facilitated that by sending a thank-you for the invitation to the soiree, stating what a wonderful time they’d had, especially Beatrix. Selina had also noted how lovely it had been to be so welcomed by their family and that she and Beatrix looked forward to seeing them again soon.
The invitation to dinner tonight had arrived a few hours later.
As if Lady Aylesbury were a party to Selina’s thoughts, she said, “I’m so pleased you and your sister could come tonight.”
Selina took a vacant chair. “We were elated to be invited, thank you.”
“Of course!” Lady Aylesbury glanced at her daughters, who sat lined up on a settee. “Lady Gresham sent the most charming missive complimenting our family.” She looked back to Selina. “It’s always good to hear that we haven’t driven people away. We can be rather, ah, raucous.”
“Harry and North can be raucous,” Rachel said. “We’re far too refined for that.” She winked at her sisters, who smiled in return.
Selina tried to imagine Mr. Sheffield as raucous and found she couldn’t. “You’re referring to when they were younger, I presume?”
Imogen laughed. “Goodness, no. They are incredibly competitive. You should