Page 6 of The Best of Friends
“In our defense, it was raining, and there was to be pork pie for supper that night.”
“In our further defense,” Toss added, “Eton during exam week was probably not the best place to attempt our dissolute life.”
“Could you perhaps attempt it when you’ve returned to your family’s country estate?”
“Rosamond would likely insist on joining me,” Toss said. “And that would land me in her governess’s black books, and I am terrified of that woman.”
“Seems to me you’re in a quandary, my friend. You’ll have to listen to Laurence the Lout next Season regardless of his pudding-headedness.”
“That’s a problem for next Season. This year, I believe I will fill my time specifically with things that my brother will never permit once he is dictating my comings and goings.”
“Within reason,” Charlie said in a perfect imitation of Laurence.
Toss laughed, deeply and fully. “I hope you’ll have a few suggestions as the Season goes on.”
Charlie grinned once more. “What are friends for?”
Chapter Three
Early in the Season everyyear, Lord and Lady Debenham hosted a ball that fell somewhere between a chaotic crush and a fashionably attired horde. The Huntresses never missed it.
It was at this annual gathering that they made what Artemis termed their “strategic entrance” into the social whirl. They always stepped into the ballroom with Artemis at their head, walking with the poise and confidence their fearless leader had taken great pains to teach them.
From that moment on each year, Society was their oyster, or so Daria had been told. She wasn’t entirely certain what that metaphor meant, but she suspected it indicated that thetondecided each year to welcome the Huntresses in large part because they’d made such an unshakable impression.
The annual arrival always made Daria a little nervous, but it was also a highlight for her. She never felt more valued and important than she did during that walk through the tall doors of the stately London ballroom.
This year felt different. Perhaps it was that she knew it would be her last. Perhaps it was that three of their band were now married and the dynamic among them all had changed. Likely, it was a little bit of both.
Daria was not the first of the Huntresses to arrive, which was just as well. She’d not have entirely known what to do otherwise. Her parents abandoned her in the entryway, as they always did. Tobias left her reluctantly, likely only willing to do so because Eve and Nia O’Doyle, two of the Huntresses, reassured him they would look after her.
“Does it not seem odd to you, Eve, that we’ve known Daria as long as we have, yet we’re not overly well acquainted with her brother?” Nia tapped her lip, her expression one of overdone pondering.
“Seems Miss Daria doesn’t wish any of us to whisk him away and claim him for our own.”
There was no mistaking their Irish heritage during the most mundane of conversations, but when the two of them were teasing, which happened quite often, the flavor of their homeland filled every syllable.
“My parents are insisting I make certain Tobias is made more a part of our group,” Daria said. “Tobias tricked them into it.”
“He’s a crafty sort, then, is he?” Eve asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“I like him better already,” Nia added.
Society struggled to tell the sisters apart. When Daria had first met the sisters, she had wondered if that bothered them. She’d quickly discovered that they not only seemed to be accepting of the situation, but they also seemed to perpetuate it. They fashioned their hair the same and shared gowns, though the latter was a financial necessity, from what Daria understood. And they often undertook conversations this way, with the two seeming to have precisely the same thoughts at precisely the same time and, thus, finishing the thought the other one began. Coming to know them these past years, Daria had reached the firm conclusion that she would have liked to have had a sister.
“We are well met!” Ellie Hughes, another of their band, rushed to greet them after she, too, arrived in the Debenhams’ entryway. She and her husband, Newton, had arrived with his parents, a very formidable and important couple in Society.
Newton offered the present Huntresses a bow and kind words of greeting, and the Huntresses each embraced Ellie. They nearly always greeted each other this way.
“We missed you at the house party,” Daria said. “It simply wasn’t the same without you.”
“Hold the next one in London, and I will make certain to be there.” Ellie was one of the most genuinely content people Daria had ever met. Life had not been easy for this member of the Huntresses’ band—it hadn’t been for any of them, really—but Ellie had navigated her difficult upbringing and claimed a future with Newton that clearly pleased her quite perfectly.
“That gown is gorgeous on you, Ellie,” Nia said.
“From Miss Martinette’s?” Eve made the observation as if it were a guess, though all the Huntresses knew a Miss Martinette’s gown when they saw one.
Ellie swished the dress skirt a little. “Isn’t it lovely? I’d not have believed only two years ago that a gown existed that looked good on me. My mother quite insisted such a thing was impossible.”
