Chapter 4
Alice’s hand shook as she adjusted a hairpin that was pinching near the nape of her neck.
It was an annoying side effect of her nearly ever-present nerves, but she’d managed to live with it well enough.
Much as she despised the way she trembled at the thought of socializing, she was twenty and seven years old, and perfectly capable of pushing through her inadequacies.
Her maid walked from the armoire with Alice’s gown and helped her into it.
“Are you looking forward to the increased company, Mercy?” Alice asked as her maid did up the back.
“Oh yes, ma’am. I can hardly wait until they’ve all arrived. It will be a great party.” Mercy’s slim fingers nimbly did up the back of the dress.
Alice’s maid was quite her opposite in that regard. Mercy loved meeting and mingling with new people. Her hands were not shaking in the least at the idea of so many new servants to get to know.
“I only wish today’s guests had brought attendants, but I am certain the others will.”
Alice looked at Mercy’s reflection behind her own in the mirror. “The Ainsleys did not bring anyone?”
“No, ma’am. Not tha’ I’m complainin’, of course. The lieutenants have their valets.”
Alice shook her head. “Of course you aren’t. I was just surprised. Well, as you said, I am sure the others will bring their maids and manservants, and I hope you shall enjoy yourself these next weeks.”
Mercy’s toothy grin spread as she dipped a curtsy. “You too, a’course, ma’am.” She paused, cocking her head as she looked over Alice. “I do wish you’d chosen the blue, though.”
Alice’s smile was tense. “Thank you, Mercy.” And then, not giving herself another moment to ruminate in her anxiety, Alice propelled her feet from the room.
She would be about fifteen minutes early for the meal, which was good.
It would give her time to double check that all was on time and in order.
It would be. But it made Alice feel better to check it again, and reminded the staff that she was overseeing everything adequately.
However, when she pulled open the door to the drawing room, she found she was not the earliest of the party. She halted, rocking back a bit on her heels. “Miss Ainsley, I presume?”
The young lady, a couple years her junior, though not a debutante by any means, came to her feet. “Yes.”
Alice put on her hostessing face, hiding her hands behind her. “I am terribly sorry I was not at home to greet you when you arrived. I am Mrs. Seymour. Thank you for accepting my invitation to join us this summer.”
The woman hesitated for the briefest of moments before she answered. “Thank you for extending it.”
Miss Ainsley had light blonde hair that was swept up in a simple chignon.
Her dress was in good repair, though perhaps a year or two out of fashion.
The siblings had come recommended as a late addition to the party, and hearing of their lack of servants, she could see why.
Alice had a small penchant for, as her late husband would put it, finding strays.
Now, since George had passed, she’d given herself a piece of these parties—made a sliver of them her own—by largely inviting good candidates for matchmaking.
People who might otherwise not have the chance to show their best in the whirl of the London Season.
While George had filled their rooms with the highest and best he could invite, she invited those who reminded her of herself before that night at the masquerade—in need of a bit of a leg up.
Perhaps the leg up needed in the Ainsleys’ case was that neither had a great deal of funds to attract a spouse.
It was so frustrating how menial Society could be.
Lacking in dowry or outward charm, and you were ignored, or worse, ostracized.
Alice would need to ensure that Miss Ainsley became acquainted with some of her wealthier party attendees.
There was also the added benefit that when Alice put on her matchmaking hat, her nerves subsided. Focusing on someone other than herself seemed to do that.
“Please, sit.” Alice gestured to the woman’s seat, and Miss Ainsley lowered herself back into it. Likewise, Alice perched on the edge of the sofa across from her, hands itching to move so she patted her dress down and tucked them into her skirt folds. “Do you enjoy traveling?”
The woman’s eyes lit. “Indeed I do, though this is the furthest I’ve gone.”
Alice nodded. “You and your brother reside in London year-round?”
“Yes, for the last several years at least. Or my brother does—I enjoy visiting friends when I can.” Something in the way Miss Ainsley’s mouth moved reminded Alice of the woman’s brother.
“Do you prefer town to country?” That was important to know who the young lady might get on well with.
Miss Ainsley pulled her lips to the side in thought then shook her head. “No, I think I prefer the country. Though London does hold a certain appeal.”
Alice thought through her guests. Lord Danbury and Lord Jennings had lovely estates. The Warren brothers as well. And Mr. Cardon lived on the other side of the island. The grounds were not large, but the house was beautiful and well maintained.
Miss Ainsley was lightly tapping her fingers on her leg. Had Alice been lost in thought for too long? She hurried to continue the conversation.
“You and your brother are among the first to arrive, but the remainder of our guests should be here between tomorrow and the next day. I hope you do not mind the diminished society tonight.”
There seemed to be a bit of relaxation to Miss Ainsley’s shoulders. “Not at all. I generally prefer smaller parties as it is.” Her eyes grew. “I apologize, I am sure whatever size of party you have planned will be just perfect.”
Alice smiled. “Do not worry, we are of the same mind.”
The woman’s brows lifted.
It was hard to maintain eye contact and speak without tumbling over her words, so Alice focused instead on her guest’s nose.
“I know, it seems silly that someone who dislikes large parties throws them every year. But my late husband adored these sorts of events, and I have simply taken up the torch.” Plus, there was the constant pressure from her staff and the island’s inhabitants to host every year.
“You are very young to be a widow,” Miss Ainsley remarked.
“Indeed. We were married only two years. He died in the war.”
“I am terribly sorry to hear that.”
Alice clasped her hands in her lap. True to form, they had stopped shaking now that the conversation was underway. “Thank you.”
There was a lapse of silence before Miss Ainsley said, “Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Seymour. Thank you for the invitation. I understand you’ve met my brother already?”
Alice nodded. “We happened upon one another on the road.” She forced her eyes to meet the young lady’s. The woman was not a dragon. She could—and would—look her in the eyes respectfully, as a hostess ought.
A mischievous glint appeared in those eyes. “Did he tell you why he was on the road and not in the carriage?”
“Actually, I do not believe he did.”
The young lady’s lips twisted. “You ought to ask him.” Most of her initial hesitation appeared to have diminished, and thank goodness. Alice was not bungling her hostess duties just yet.
The man in question appeared in the doorway at that moment. Seeing him caused Alice’s cheeks to warm, though she was entirely unsure why. Perhaps because the man had become intimately acquainted with her ankle that morning. She glanced at Miss Ainsley, who nodded with a smile.
Hoping she was not walking into a trap, Alice came to her feet.
“Good evening, Sir Henry. I was just speaking with your sister.”
He shot a look at Miss Ainsley as he crossed to them, then cupped his hand around his mouth as he faux-whispered to Alice, “The look on her face has me a bit terrified. Do I want to know what you were discussing?”
Alice sent another glance to Miss Ainsley, who was watching their interaction curiously. “She was just telling me I ought to ask you why you were walking along the road instead of riding in the carriage.”
The man’s eyes cut to his sister, a bit of confusion clouding their depths, but then a chagrined look overtook his face.
Alice was filled with immediate regret. She had not wanted to embarrass him. Was this a mean-spirited prank between brother and sister?
“To own the truth, boat rides do not agree with me. I was too sick to ride with Julia.”
“Oh. Oh dear, I am so sorry.”
“Do not be. It is not your fault.”
“Well, I am grateful for it,” she said, turning back to Miss Ainsley. “Your brother saved me from rather a tight spot.”
She glanced back at Sir Henry and found him smiling down on her. Standing as they were, Alice could see he had several inches on her height, but she herself was rather petite so he was not overly tall. “I am a paragon of heroism,” he remarked.
Miss Ainsley’s head swung between the two of them, and Alice stepped back, not wanting to exclude her. The door opened, and her husband’s friends entered.
Lieutenant Shelbourne and Lieutenant Carruthers were pictorial opposites.
Shelbourne had his dark hair, short stature, and wide shoulders, where Carruthers was light, tall, and thin.
Their personalities similarly differed. Shelbourne was indolent while Carruthers was sharp and attentive.
They were in conversation as they entered, but paused a few steps into the room.
Shelbourne’s eyes found Alice first, and he gave her a lazy smile.
Carruthers looked to Miss Ainsley, gaze curious as it swept over her.
Surprisingly, Miss Ainsley matched his gaze.