She found herself looking into her son’s hazel eyes as he gently explained, ‘But, Mama, you already know all about them, and more, from all the letters you’ve been sent. We didn’t want to bore you.’

With the ground cut so masterfully from under her feet, she could think of nothing to say. Instead she raised her glass in mock salute. ‘I trust they will be present tonight?’

‘Most assuredly. Ferdie is to escort them there.’

‘Then you must both promise to introduce them to me and I’ll promise to be silent on the subject all the way there.’

‘And back?’ asked Fanshawe, used to the Hazelmere conversations.

She laughed. ‘All right. And back.’

‘Under those conditions, I promise,’ answered Hazelmere with a grin.

‘And I,’ echoed Fanshawe.

‘Good heavens!’ ejaculated Ferdie, surprising them all. ‘I’ll have to dash or I’ll be late. Never do to keep them waiting!’

Amid laughter, he departed for the other side of Cavendish Square, urging them to make haste if they wanted to get to Richmond first.

Arriving on the doorstep of Merion House as the Merion carriage rounded the corner, Ferdie had the forethought to ask Mellow not to announce it until the Hazelmere carriage, already standing outside Hazelmere House and clearly visible across the square, had departed. Mellow, accepting the golden douceur Ferdie slipped him, understood perfectly.

Inside the drawing-room, Ferdie caught his breath at the visions of loveliness that met his eyes. Even he had started to wonder for how much longer the Darent sisters could dazzle in elegant gowns that were quite unique.

Dorothea, standing by the marble mantel, was a stunning picture in ivory satin, overlaid with lace around the neckline and in a broad sweep down one side of the skirt. The pearls at her throat shone warmly in the firelight, and her hair appeared burnished by the flames. The simplicity of the gown was breathtaking. Thinking of the effect this creation would have on Hazelmere in his present mood, Ferdie almost felt sorry for the Marquis.

Cecily was adorned in pure white, with trimming of aquamarine ribbon set with tiny seed-pearls criss-crossed over the bodice and looped around her skirt. Again the effect was unique and quite lovely.

Lady Merion, satisfied with the effect her granddaughters’ gowns had had on Ferdie, spoke up, telling him that they were now ready to depart.

Ferdie gulped and asked innocently, ‘Oh, has Mellow announced the carriage?’

‘No, Ferdie, he hasn’t,’ said Dorothea, suddenly suspicious.

‘I don’t know what’s keeping them, then,’ muttered her ladyship. ‘We called for the carriage long ago.’

‘Er-yes.’ Ferdie decided that Lady Merion was the safest of the three to address. ‘Just came from dinner at Hazelmere House. Lady Hazelmere was there, ma’am, and sent her regards. Said she’d see you at the ball.’

At this juncture, with Ferdie fervently searching for some topic to distract his three ladies, Mellow entered and solved the problem by announcing the carriage.

Chapter Seven

After an uneventful drive, the Merion carriage joined the long queue of coaches lining up to disgorge their fair burdens on the torch-lit steps of Richmond House. There had been little conversation on the journey, and Ferdie had had time to ponder what lay between the Darent sisters and his friends.

He recalled the look in Dorothea’s eye that afternoon when he had hurried to catch up with them as they left the Park. He had been unable to interpret it at the time, imagining that the four of them had been together the whole time. But now, from what Marc and Tony themselves had said, it was clear that had not been the case. Ferdie’s mind boggled when he tried to imagine what exactly had happened between Dorothea and Marc. And this while the Misses Darent were, after a fashion, in his care! If such a thing ever got out, his carefully nurtured reputation as a trustworthy ladies’ companion would be ruined!

The carriage drew up and he helped his ladies to alight. Soon they were following the glittering line of arrivals up the grand staircase. At the top, they were greeted by the Duchess, and moved on into the ballroom as their names were proclaimed in stentorian accents by two massive footmen flanking the door.

Dorothea had only taken a few steps when she found Hazelmere at her elbow. Smiling up at him, she saw that his eyes were not laughing, but glinting at her in a way that made her heart stand still. All the other symptoms she now associated with his presence-breathlessness, confusion and a certain anticipation-immediately came to the fore. Then he smiled and the intense look dissolved into his usual warmly amused expression, dispelling her unease. His lips lightly brushed her gloved fingertips before he drew her hand through his arm.

‘Come with me, Miss Darent; there’s someone I’d like you to meet.’

‘Oh? Who, pray tell?’

‘Me.’

She chuckled. She was drawn out of the mainstream of the arriving guests, a tactic that confused the small army of gentlemen waiting patiently to greet her further along the ballroom. Hazelmere led her towards a corner, into the camouflage of earlier arrivals. He moved automatically through the crowd, not seeing them, not hearing them. His mind was awhirl with a heady sensation he had never experienced before. Whatever it was, it was exciting and uncomfortable at the same time, and its cause was the unutterably lovely creature walking so calmly beside him. The sight of her, encased in ivory, had taken his breath away. Then she had smiled at him with such open affection that he had had to fight an impulse to kiss her in the middle of the Duchess of Richmond’s ballroom.

The temptation to continue their ambling stroll into the adjoining rooms was strong. He knew Richmond House fairly well. He was sure he could find a deserted ante-room where Miss Darent and he could analyse his strange response to her presence in more depth. He sighed inwardly. Unfortunately such intimate discussions were not listed among the acceptable ways of wooing young ladies during the Season.

Reluctantly pausing, he looked down at her again, drinking in the flawless symmetry of her face, drowning in her emerald eyes. He saw them widen, first in amused enquiry and then, as he remained silent, in increasing bewilderment. ‘I’ll have you know, Miss Darent, that I’m rapidly running out of ideas of how to whisk you away before your devoted admirers surround you.’