Page 78 of My Best Friend's Earl
Circling back to the game room, Oliver dodged a flowerswinging free from its moorings. The Forsyths clearly underwent some expense for the decor this evening. Garlands and ribbons draped off everything.
Would this be his last annual Forsyth soiree? If Constance married him, would they live quietly away from society, or would they face the lions together? He rather hoped they’d stare down the ton, if only to see Constance work her charm on everyone, then watch them fall under her thrall. Like it or not, by this time next year, the best of them would adore her too.
Imagining her by his side next year, flashing that dimple at people she counted as friends, made him smile to himself.
London nobility didn’t stand a chance against that dimple.
Mr. Wellsley entered the room and hurried over when he spotted Oliver. “Southwyn? Didn’t expect you to be here. Is everything, uh, going well this evening?” Wellsley wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Oliver nearly laughed. England’s army had not lost a master of espionage when it failed to snatch Franklin Wellsley into its ranks.
“I’m trying to find her. She’s with her cousin, the Duchess of Holland. Since the Hollands are attending tonight, here I am. Hopefully, they’ll help me track her down before eleven, and all will be well.”
“They’ll be here. Althea thought we needed someone high-ranking to witness everything and dispel any doubters. Who better than a duke? She sent a message telling them when and where to meet.” Worry pinched his face. “But if you’re here now, who’s going to beyou know where,you know when, withyou know what?”
“My coachman returned home and will be in place with the right equipage at the agreed-upon time.” Anticipatingthe next question, Oliver hastened to add, “When Dorian arrives and I find out where Constance is, I’ll take a hack. All will be well. You focus on your part.”
Over Wellsley’s shoulder, Oliver spied Lord Bixby arriving with his sisters. Catching his eye, Oliver gave Bixby a nod, which the man returned with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask “are you certain?” Oliver nodded once more. Yes. He was sure.
Bixby and his sisters melted into the crowd. Before Oliver could look away from where they’d stood, another party entered the room. Constance stood in the doorway, flanked by her cousins and Dorian, who’d positioned themselves like her royal guard. Air rushed from his lungs. She was just so… everything. She was everything.
Everything exceptsupposed to be here. “At least this simplifies the schedule.”
Wellsley followed his gaze.
“Good, His Grace is here with… oh. Miss Martin? Now? When you haven’t—”
“Quite. The woman between Constance and Her Grace is their cousin, Miss Hattie McCrae. Remember that name and face. They’re inseparable. If they’ve accepted Althea into their pack as an honorary cousin, you do not want to cross Miss McCrae.”
“That’s good, right? That Althea has such close friends?”
“It’s wonderful, unless you land on the wrong side of them. Those women would kill for each other.”
Wellsley nodded seriously, and Oliver suspected if there’d been paper at hand, he’d be taking earnest notes. “Since you’re all here, will you be in the library?”
“Assuming I’m not busy pleading my case with Constance, yes. I’ll play my part.”
“Plead your case? Do you think you’ll need to beg?”
Oliver grunted. “Perhaps. When I visited Martin House, there’d been some kind of uproar earlier. Her father wished me luck. Said I should be prepared to either grovel or run. You might witness the wrath of the cousins firsthand.”
Wellsley winced in sympathy. “What did you do, Southwyn?”
“Damned if I know.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Remember: girls before earls
Hattie’s face had gone pale the instant their carriage arrived at the Forsyths’, and the pinched lines around her mouth deepened with each passing moment. Crowded inside the house with a swarm of guests, her wide eyes looked haunted. “How does one become used to this?”
Caro placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Believe it or not, you will grow more comfortable the more you’re out in society.”
Constance stood on her tiptoes, attempting to see over the shoulders of everyone in front of her. After taking several minutes alone in a quiet room at Caro’s house, she was feeling more like herself. A lifetime of experience taught her that she could stumble over that tipping point into fully overwhelmed again if she wasn’t careful tonight.
“Pretend you belong, and most won’t question you,” Caro told Hattie.
“If anyone does question us, we will smile and apologize for forgetting their name, then say we enjoyed meeting them last month,” Connie said.
“Thank God I’ll never need to do this again,” Hattie muttered. “Repeated exposure will not be necessary.”
