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Authors: Karen Hawkins
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manipulated.”
“That quite upsets our plans.”
Margaret frowned. “Our plans don’t call for us to manipulate anyone. We’re merely giving two people a chance to meet and, if so inclined, fall in love.”
“Oh. Quite right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I do hope he overcomes it; I cannot imagine that Miss Balfour would enjoy a stubborn man.” Margaret looked around the room, her irritation seeping away as she watched the couples twirl about her dance floor. “For an opening dance, we’ve an excellent turnout.” She sighed. “I wished to introduce our potential couple while no one was about. Now Miss Balfour will meet her earl for the first time here in the ballroom, in front of the other guests.”
“At least they’ll both be dressed in their finest.”
“That’s true. I’ve no doubt Huntley will outshine every man present.”
“And Miss Balfour will outshine every woman. Oh, Margaret, it will be so romantic!”
“Excessively so.” Margaret eyed the refreshment table. “MacDougal, put out more cake and sliced ham. I won’t have it said that I scrimp on refreshments.”
“Yes, yer grace.” The butler stepped to one side to murmur orders to a waiting footman, then returned to his post just as a murmur arose at the door.
“It’s about time,” the duchess said.
The earl stood in the doorway as a footman announced him and his companion.
“Who is that with him?” Lady Charlotte asked.
“That’s Miss Emma Gordon. She’s a friend of Huntley’s. She was bosom bows with his wife before she died.”
“Oh dear, you don’t think—”
“No, no. Huntley says she is like a sister, and I believe that says it all.”
“Ah. So Miss Balfour need not worry.”
“Hardly. She has the advantage of looks and youth, for she’s at least ten years younger than Miss Gordon.” The duchess glanced around the room. “Where is she?”
“She’s speaking with Lady MacKenna by the punch bowl.”
“Good. Wave her over, will you? Huntley’s on his way to us now.”
Across the ballroom, Lady MacKenna squinted toward the door. “Pardon me, Miss Balfour, but it looks as if Lady Charlotte is signaling for you to join her.”
Lily instantly knew why. Her heart thudding sickly, she looked for the closest exit. But, no. I can’t run. Think about Papa. She collected herself as well as she could, made her excuses to Lady MacKenna, then walked toward Lady Charlotte and the duchess, refusing to look at the small group gathered there. Just stay calm.
As she walked past a mirror, she swiftly glanced at her gown and hair. She’d made her gown, a deceptively simple affair of white lace over a deep blue silk undergown. The gown sported delicate cap sleeves and gathered beneath her breasts with a wide, white silk ribbon. The neckline was scooped and unadorned, and she wore only a simple pair of sapphire earrings that had once belonged to her mother.
She smoothed her skirt with one hand, her dance card swinging at the wrist of her elbow-length glove. The duchess let no detail go unnoticed, and the card was folded like a fan with a gold cord looped about one end. Perhaps Huntley will ask me to dance. I’m sure the duchess would tell me that he is a superb dancer. She can find no fault in the man.
No man could be all of the things the duchess seemed to think him—handsome, wealthy, and pleasant. Still, if the earl were simply wealthy and pleasant, Lily would be be well pleased. She reached Lady Charlotte and dipped a curtsy. “Lady Charlotte, you wished to speak wi—”
“There you are!” Her grace tucked an arm though Lily’s and turned her toward a tall gentleman and a fashionably dressed woman. “Miss Balfour, this is Geoffrey MacKinton, the dashing Earl of Huntley.”
Lily curtsied. “How do you do?”
The duchess beamed. “Huntley, this is my goddaughter, the lovely Miss Lily Balfour.”
Lily’s hand was instantly enveloped in a warm clasp, and she found herself looking up into
“That quite upsets our plans.”
Margaret frowned. “Our plans don’t call for us to manipulate anyone. We’re merely giving two people a chance to meet and, if so inclined, fall in love.”
“Oh. Quite right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I do hope he overcomes it; I cannot imagine that Miss Balfour would enjoy a stubborn man.” Margaret looked around the room, her irritation seeping away as she watched the couples twirl about her dance floor. “For an opening dance, we’ve an excellent turnout.” She sighed. “I wished to introduce our potential couple while no one was about. Now Miss Balfour will meet her earl for the first time here in the ballroom, in front of the other guests.”
“At least they’ll both be dressed in their finest.”
“That’s true. I’ve no doubt Huntley will outshine every man present.”
“And Miss Balfour will outshine every woman. Oh, Margaret, it will be so romantic!”
“Excessively so.” Margaret eyed the refreshment table. “MacDougal, put out more cake and sliced ham. I won’t have it said that I scrimp on refreshments.”
“Yes, yer grace.” The butler stepped to one side to murmur orders to a waiting footman, then returned to his post just as a murmur arose at the door.
“It’s about time,” the duchess said.
The earl stood in the doorway as a footman announced him and his companion.
“Who is that with him?” Lady Charlotte asked.
“That’s Miss Emma Gordon. She’s a friend of Huntley’s. She was bosom bows with his wife before she died.”
“Oh dear, you don’t think—”
“No, no. Huntley says she is like a sister, and I believe that says it all.”
“Ah. So Miss Balfour need not worry.”
“Hardly. She has the advantage of looks and youth, for she’s at least ten years younger than Miss Gordon.” The duchess glanced around the room. “Where is she?”
“She’s speaking with Lady MacKenna by the punch bowl.”
“Good. Wave her over, will you? Huntley’s on his way to us now.”
Across the ballroom, Lady MacKenna squinted toward the door. “Pardon me, Miss Balfour, but it looks as if Lady Charlotte is signaling for you to join her.”
Lily instantly knew why. Her heart thudding sickly, she looked for the closest exit. But, no. I can’t run. Think about Papa. She collected herself as well as she could, made her excuses to Lady MacKenna, then walked toward Lady Charlotte and the duchess, refusing to look at the small group gathered there. Just stay calm.
As she walked past a mirror, she swiftly glanced at her gown and hair. She’d made her gown, a deceptively simple affair of white lace over a deep blue silk undergown. The gown sported delicate cap sleeves and gathered beneath her breasts with a wide, white silk ribbon. The neckline was scooped and unadorned, and she wore only a simple pair of sapphire earrings that had once belonged to her mother.
She smoothed her skirt with one hand, her dance card swinging at the wrist of her elbow-length glove. The duchess let no detail go unnoticed, and the card was folded like a fan with a gold cord looped about one end. Perhaps Huntley will ask me to dance. I’m sure the duchess would tell me that he is a superb dancer. She can find no fault in the man.
No man could be all of the things the duchess seemed to think him—handsome, wealthy, and pleasant. Still, if the earl were simply wealthy and pleasant, Lily would be be well pleased. She reached Lady Charlotte and dipped a curtsy. “Lady Charlotte, you wished to speak wi—”
“There you are!” Her grace tucked an arm though Lily’s and turned her toward a tall gentleman and a fashionably dressed woman. “Miss Balfour, this is Geoffrey MacKinton, the dashing Earl of Huntley.”
Lily curtsied. “How do you do?”
The duchess beamed. “Huntley, this is my goddaughter, the lovely Miss Lily Balfour.”
Lily’s hand was instantly enveloped in a warm clasp, and she found herself looking up into
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