Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What do you think we can expect of this unique occasion?” Lady Harcourt whispered to Lady Marchant as they walked into Arrowfell House arm-in-arm, just within Elspeth’s earshot.
“Disaster. Most certainly,” Lady Marchant responded, fluttering her ornate feather fan. “I can already tell it is going to be insufferably hot in here.”
“I can assure ye both that we have ice sculptures positioned throughout the party and excellent air circulation,” Elspeth said with a deep curtsey. “Ye will be perfectly comfortable at Arrowfell. Welcome, Lady Harcourt, Lady Marchant.”
“Oh,” Lady Harcourt said with a sharp inhale. “That is most accommodating of you, Lady Inverhall. Thank you for having us. I trust we will have a most diverting evening!”
“The pleasure is mine,” Elspeth returned with a genuine smile. “Mine and the lads’, of course. I cannae wait for ye to learn about the children of St. Jude’s Orphanage. They will be most grateful for yer support this evenin’.”
“I am sure of it, Lady Inverhall.” Lady Marchant nodded. “Poor souls. You, though, I must say, well, you look lovely. Have you done something different with your appearance? You look radiant.”
“Thank ye,” Elspeth said, motioning for them to enter. “It must be the dress. I had it designed especially for the occasion. Now, the footmen will see ye escorted to the party and that you receive chilled champagne.”
“How lovely,” the ladies said in unison as they walked in, wide smiles on their faces.
Elspeth crossed to the large, gilded mirror in the foyer.
She looked at herself for a moment, turning this way and that.
She had a gown made by a new, young dressmaker in the city, and in her favorite hue.
It was a green to rival the hills of Inverhall, the sparkle in her eyes.
It fit her perfectly at the bodice, flowing out into swathes of lush, organza at her heels.
She had her hair pulled up in an elegant, braided crown, with baby’s breath laced throughout it.
Lady Marchant is right. I do look lovely.
Soon, the rest of the ton descended upon Arrowfell House, like a flock of expectant vultures in a rush to see the latest spectacle. Their collective curiosity was a palpable thing that made sweat bead on her brow.
She knew well enough that they had come not to give to charity, but to witness a scene. She could only imagine the grand disaster they were sure would befall the Duke of Arrowfell and the untouched widow.
However, she was determined to prove them wrong and had gone to great lengths to ensure that everything went according to plan.
Everythin’ must go accordin’ to plan.
“Well, let us see what fresh hell will happen here,” Lord Arondon said, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing tray. “Most informal, the way they have arranged the tables in here. I also heard there will be children in attendance. Most unusual.”
“Yes, there will be!” Lady Featherstone affirmed with a shrill laugh. “Lady Inverhall is a creative lassie!”
“Indeed, I am,” Elspeth agreed, slowly approaching the pair with a wide smile. “I thought it important that me guests learn firsthand who they are supportin’ this evenin’. I hope it is one ye willnae forget.”
“I am quite certain it will be unforgettable,” Lady Featherstone said with a small laugh. “Oh my, I am already too far gone. This champagne is exquisite! You are a vision, dearie.”
“Thank ye.” Elspeth bobbed a small curtsey before waltzing away to greet the rest of her guests.
The air was thick with gossip and the scent of expensive perfume, but she was determined to remain composed.
She would not let the whispers deter her.
She would keep her shoulders back and her chin held high, just as the Dowager Duchess had taught her.
She would not have her focus averted from her goal to secure donations for St. Jude’s.
The children!
No sooner had she wondered where the boys were and whether they were ready to make their grand entrance, than John bolted across the room like a shot.
His shirt was untucked, and he was hiking up his pants as he did a sort of jig across the floor.
His hair stuck up in the air as if a lightning bolt had struck it.
“Aye, there is nothin’ to see here!” Elspeth said to the crowd, whose eyes had started to follow him as he exited the grand room. “The lads will be makin’ their entrance shortly!”
She headed in John’s direction, her strides elegant but purposeful. Suddenly, a tiny terrier that belonged to the Dowager Duchess of Dartmoor slipped out of its leash and dashed through the crowd. A trail of irritated guests jumped out of its way as it barked loudly.
Elspeth changed course and followed it, realizing the pooch—Fluffy, she decided to name it—was running toward a tray of canapes.
She hurried to intercept it when a footman, flustered by the chaos, tripped over his feet.
He sent a tray of blood red punch into the air, the liquid cascading down the front of the ever-so-proper Lord Arrondon’s immaculate white waistcoat.
“What in the devil is going on here?!” Lord Arrondon howled, throwing his arms up in the air. His nose scrunched up, and his curled mustache looked like it might take flight.
A wave of hushed whispers rose as the rest of the children materialized from behind the curtains that framed the large windows on the east side of the room.
They began their mischief slowly, a pair of them engaging in a spirited, shrieking game of tag between the legs of Society’s most prominent figures.
Another pair did a strange dance in front of a cheese platter, tossing bits into their mouths like circus clowns.
Young Hugo just walked around and smiled at everyone, for which Elspeth was grateful. He could melt even the coldest of hearts.
“I must say, Lady Invehall,” Lady Featherstone commented, “these are some of the most spirited young boys I have ever seen! A bit wild, but I admire their spunk.”
“They truly are remarkable,” Elspeth agreed. “They have brought much joy to me life.”
“I am so sorry for Fluffy’s intrusion,” the Dowager Duchess of Dartmoor said as she approached them. “She has a fondness for canapes. I spoil her so. I hope I did not ruin your evening, Lady Inverhall.”
“Nae at all,” Elspeth assured, bending down to pet the creature she somehow knew was Fluffy.
Perhaps I am a witch, after all. I have not only predicted the young terrier’s name, but somehow also turned a disaster into something special.
It was then that she felt something shift. At which exact moment, she did not know. But it was certain. The chaos, rather than ushering ruin, broke the stiff, formal atmosphere. She heard laughter, genuine and free, ring out around them.
The joy was as infectious as a plague, a pleasant warmth filling the room.
“My dear, what a most delightful mess that was!” Lady Ashworth exclaimed as she approached the group, fluttering her fan.
“I have not seen such genuine excitement in a decade! Even Lord Arrondon is perfectly happy now, enjoying some refreshment with Lady Paddelfoot of all people! Word has it that she may wed the wealthy old codger!”
Elspeth smiled, happiness seeping through her anxiety. “Lady Ashworth, ye are incorrigible! But aye, I do apologize for the unexpected entertainment.”
“Nonsense! One would think it was almost a play, a performance!” Lady Ashworth waved a dismissive hand. “It shows a host with a pulse! And you, my dear, are a marvel. How do you manage to look so serene amidst the chaos? That dress is most lovely on you.”
“Practice,” Elspeth replied, thinking back to the days of mud-soaked gatherings at Inverhall. “I think it is time for dinner! I will ring for the first course if ye would all please make yer way to yer seats. Ye will find a nametag at each place, written by one of the fine lads at St. Jude’s.”
“I love the thoughtful touches you have added to the occasion,” Lady Featherstone said. “Splendid, Lady Inverhall.”