Page 67 of The Best-Kept Secrets
“I can’t guarantee I’ll be anything but rubbish as a political secretary.” Duke joined him near the bag. “But I can promise I’ll work hard.”
“I wouldn’t have extended the offer if I’d thought otherwise.” Uncle Niles dropped an arm around Duke’s shoulders. “If you discover that you don’t care to keep the position, there will be no hard feelings, I promise. And you’ll always have a place with us, no matter what you choose to pursue in the end.”
“Thank you.” Duke didn’t know what else to say. He’d stepped into Penfield that morning without a place to live where he could feel at peace. And he’d undertaken a guessing game with Eve about his future pursuits but had had no answer she could even stumble upon because he’d had no dreams beyond getting away from Writtlestone, no occupation that he felt was at all within his reach.
And now, he had both.
He just didn’t have her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eve and Nia had beguntheir first London Season already at a disadvantage nearly four years earlier. By the third ball they’d attended, Eve had been deeply discouraged. All around, people had whispered in not-quiet-enough voices about their overly plain gowns and about how obvious it was that they were out of their element. Less than a fortnight into their first foray into Society and they were already sinking.
In the midst of the cruel dismissals, word had begun circulating that Artemis Lancaster had arrived. The presence of Society’s reigning diamond guaranteed that the ball would be deemedtheSociety gathering of the night.
The Queen of Society, to Eve’s shock, made her way to where the rejected Irish sisters were huddled together. And she was wearing a gown of lovely but decidedly ordinary fabric with very little adornment.
Artemis arrived beside them. “How lovely to see you both.” She smiled at them as if they were dear friends rather than literal strangers. “I’d hoped you would be in attendance tonight.” She hooked her arms through each of theirs and began a slow circuit of the ballroom, all eyes and ears on them as they passed. “You must tell me who your modiste is. She clearly doesn’t need to hide poor craftsmanship behind gaudy adornments and ridiculously lavish fabrics.”
That comment caught quite a few peoples’ attention.
“It is not, after all, the done thing this year, to look as though one were standing in the middle of a trimmings shop during a windstorm and emerged covered in frills and frippery.”
More whispers followed that. Artemis continued leading them around the room, letting such comments reach eavesdropping ears. She had stayed with the O’Doyles all evening. And she’d favored more simple gowns throughout the remainder of that Season, which Eve had known was purely to ease the way of two poor Irish sisters who had had nothing but plain gowns.
They’d been Huntresses ever since.
Looking over the faces of her friends now, gathered in a sitting room at Fairfield, Eve couldn’t entirely keep her thoughts away from that long-ago night and the miracle Artemis had worked for her and Nia and the blessing this group continued to be in their lives.
“Rose and I have so many ideas for further increasing the appeal of Miss Martinette’s,” Artemis said. She and Rose, who was also one of them, though she didn’t spend much time among them, had secretly opened a dress shop in London. “Our goal is that within three years, our shop will be not merely a place for obtaining gowns but also a sought-after location in London for thetonto see and be seen.”
“The Almack’s of dress shops?” Ellie asked with a laugh.
“We would never sink so low as to be compared to Almack’s.” Artemis managed the response with a strong feigned haughtiness but also with the right amount of earned dismissal—Almack’s was not what it had once been—that no one in the group could help but laugh.
It had become tradition that each of the Huntresses be provided with a dress from Miss Martinette’s ahead of Christmas and a gorgeous gown at the start of each Season. Nia and Eve were so close in size that they were able to share gowns, which helped tremendously.
As Eve ran her fingers lightly over the soft, floral-print muslin of the dress she had been given, she felt such a contradiction of emotions: Gratitude that her friends knew how to support each other without making anyone feel pitied or pathetic. Sorrow that she would see so little of them in the years to come. Happy for Nia that she would havetwonew dresses with this gift. Loneliness at knowing she herself wouldn’t have need of anything new or fine or flattering. Hope that Nia would be well enough to enjoy the Season when it began again. Worry over Dr. Wilstead’s warning about the potential for damage to Nia’s heart.
“Is it not to your liking?” Lisette asked quietly as she sat beside Eve.
“’Tis inarguably beautiful,” Eve answered.
Artemis had apparently been listening even while inspecting the fit of the gown she had brought for Gillian. “You might as well confess what is on your mind, Eve. We’ve all noticed your thoughts are elsewhere. And we have our suspicions there is more to your distraction than Nia’s poor health.”
“You’ll think me ridiculous,” she said.
“When have we ever objected to ‘ridiculous’?” Gillian grinned.
Eve did need to share some of her worries. There were far too many things she was carrying alone. She’d told Duke about her changed future and the difficulties associated with it, and that had helped while he’d been willing to support her. She didn’t dare share that with anyone else, having confessed it to him entirely by accident. She’d promised her parents not to spill the secret, especially to her sister. Telling the Huntresses of it would require them to keep the truth from Nia as well. She couldn’t pass that burden on. But she’d felt so abandoned and discarded after Duke’s rejection the night before that she’d hardly slept. Having some support from the Huntresses would help her feel less alone, even if they couldn’t know everything.
“I think Duke is angry with me. Or irritated.”
“He is certainly irritated with his family,” Ellie said.
“Who of us isn’t?” Daria immediately covered her mouth with her hands. From behind them, she said, “Oh, that was terribly rude.”
“But accurate,” Artemis said.
