Kitty’s smile wobbled, but stayed, and she curtseyed prettily to Henshaw. “A pleasure, Lieutenant Henshaw. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Izzy grinned at Henshaw, waiting for his response eagerly.
But Henshaw only bowed, the same smile on his face, and said, “And I about you, Miss Morton. Delighted.”
Izzy did her best not to frown. That was it? There wasn’t anything impolite about his answer; indeed, it was the gentlest, most pleased-sounding response she had ever heard. But to not tease her about her brother? To not boast about whatever stories she might have heard?
Grace noticed as well and gave Izzy a quick look.
How curious.
“Oh, good, you’re all gathered together,” Georgie announced as she came to them all, looking a little pale.
“Georgie? What’s wrong?” Izzy asked, looking around for Tony, who was nowhere to be seen.
Henshaw snapped out of his solitude and moved to take Georgie’s arm. “Come, Georgie, let me get you a chair.”
Georgie slapped at his arm. “Nonsense, I won’t be but a moment.”
“I thought you weren’t coming,” Izzy stated simply, smiling in polite concern.
“And I wouldn’t if certain relations had kept to our arrangement,” Georgie told her in a huff. “I wouldn’t have had to set foot in the home of the one person I tend to despise on the same level as Eliza Davies, but it can’t be helped. I shall leave the moment it will not reflect badly on me to do so.” She turned suddenly and smiled with real warmth. “Come on, dear, you’ll want to meet them.”
“I want to meet everyone, Georgie, so that doesn’t signify,” came the response. A pleasant looking young woman stepped forward, her hair the color of aged gold and neatly coiffed, her dark eyes dancing with a mischievous light that Georgie would know all too well.
Georgie rolled her eyes, then sighed. “Alice Sterling, may I present, in order of position and not rank because it’s too tiresome, Mr. Morton, Miss Morton, Lady Hetty Redgrave, my cousin Miss Lambert, Miss Morledge, and Lieutenant Henshaw.” She exhaled roughly, smiling for effect.
“Don’t forget me!” cried Charlotte as she hurried to them.
“And Miss Wright,” Georgie finished without any enthusiasm whatsoever, “who is incapable of being left out of any situation at any given place or time.”
Charlotte grinned a devious grin. “Only because I add so very much to everything.”
Lady Hetty snickered, and Kitty stared at Charlotte as though torn between fascination and amusement.
“Right, duty done.” Georgie looked at Izzy with a pleading smile. “Izzy, would you mind seeing to Alice while you’re here? Francis and Janet couldn’t come, I’m not particularly well, and all of us agreed Alice shouldn’t come with Hugh.”
Charlotte snorted without reserve, the rest of them nodding.
“So,” Georgie went on, “now that introductions have been made, might I abandon Alice to your care, dear? Just this once?”
“Delighted to be so burdensome,” Alice chimed in, not looking particularly upset by any of this.
“I’ll see to it,” Izzy assured her. “Go home.”
“Where’s Tony?” Charlotte demanded of Georgie. “Surely he…”
“He will be here as soon as he can,” Georgie overrode. “And he will take her home.”
Alice smiled, looking slightly abashed. “I’m afraid I rather insisted on not waiting for him. I didn’t want to miss a single moment of the evening. The Season hasn’t started yet, and I wanted to take advantage of that by meeting as many people as I could before then. I’m sure that will help me better succeed.”
Izzy looked between Alice and Kitty, who were approximately the same age, but could not have been more different in looks or temperament. Kitty looked terrified of Alice, and Alice seemed terrified of nothing.
Charlotte took Alice by the arm at once. “My dear girl, if it’s introductions you want, allow me to be of as much assistance as I can.” She steered her away, and they began chatting as though old friends.
The rest watched them leave, then Georgie speared them all with a hard look. “So help me, if Alice becomes Charlotte’s pet, I will loathe all of you for eternity.” She nodded, then turned and left the way she had come.
Izzy exhaled slowly and shook her head, glancing at Sebastian out of pure instinct.
Amazingly, he was smiling as his eyes met hers.
Then he laughed.
Then they all were laughing, and it occurred to Izzy that Sebastian was even more handsome when he laughed.
Would he never be able to steal a moment with her?
There were people absolutely everywhere in a room that was clearly not designed to hold such a number, and he could not manage to get Izzy away from the rest of them.
Nor could he venture particularly far either.
Kitty sat unattended by any new faces, which did not seem to upset her in the slightest, but it would not do her any favors, either. Staying within a new comfort, no matter how expanded by comparison to former levels, would still keep her from the potential she could have.
If only he could break her free somehow, but then he would have Kitty on his arm, and still be unable to speak with Izzy.
Henshaw seemed content to talk with the group rather than dance or socialize with anyone else, which was very like him, but Sebastian could hardly expect him to entertain the entire group of women without him.
Not that Sebastian was adding much of anything to the conversation at hand.
Charlotte and Alice Sterling were nowhere to be seen, which certainly ought to concern Tony whenever he arrived, but it was certain that so long as Alice was in the company of any one Spinster, she would be as safe as can be, no matter the circumstances. Elinor had appeared, which had the potential to irk him, but as all young men seemed to stay far from their group, she was fairly well-behaved.
None of them danced, which seemed strange. It was certainly not the reputation they deserved, having danced with every one of them at least once. But he had never fully comprehended what an influence their Chronicles had on Society, and the less-than-pleasant feelings that their name tended to evoke.
Sebastian wasn’t one for gossip, but he knew enough to know that it was mostly fabrication.
Mostly.
Elinor and Charlotte seemed to fill the mold better than the rest.
He couldn’t stop looking at Izzy this evening, much as he knew he ought to. She might not have had the obvious beauty that Grace or Charlotte, or even Alice Sterling had, let alone his sister, but she had a warm and pleasing countenance that drew one to her regardless. And she was loveliness itself, in the most natural, engaging ways. Somehow, she seemed to grow more beautiful with every glance.
If he glanced any more this evening, he might just be blinded by it.
Steady on, he scolded himself, shifting slightly where he stood. It would not do to be so overwhelmed by sudden observations of a woman he was about to do business with.
Let alone one he could count as a friend.
“What’s this? A lovely young woman on her first foray into London, and she sits here in a chair?”
Sebastian turned to see Tony approaching, grinning directly at Kitty.
“Careful, Tony,” Grace teased, smirking in response. “A number of us still consider ourselves lovely young women.”
“I don’t,” Henshaw quipped with a shrug.
Kitty bit her lip on a giggle, and Sebastian nearly sighed with relief.
Tony bowed deeply to Grace. “That is why I specified ‘in her first foray’, my dear Grace. Never fear, I will shower you with appropriate compliments later.”
“Please don’t,” she laughed with a dismissive wave.
Tony turned to Kitty, extending his hand. “If it will not trouble you, dear Kitty, will you dance with me?”
The entire group held their breath, including Sebastian.
Kitty knew Tony better than any man in the room but
himself, and that was not particularly well at all. Would it be enough?
Izzy murmured something to Kitty that Sebastian couldn’t hear, but whatever it was made Kitty smile with real warmth and place her hand in Tony’s gently.
“I’d be delighted,” his sister whispered, sounding pleased despite her abject fear.
Tony’s hand closed around hers, and he winked at her as she came with him.
Sebastian exhaled roughly, satisfaction hitting him squarely in the chest. Tony would set her at ease and have her comfortable in moments. Kitty loved to dance, but Sebastian was a poor partner for her. He’d dance with her at some point, surely, but could not bring himself to be first. Now he wouldn’t have to be.
Henshaw echoed his exhale, then moved to stand before Grace, bowing. “In lieu of eloping with me, Miss Morledge, would you favor me with this dance?”
Grace tossed her head back on a laugh. “Oh, why not?”
The two of them moved off to join the dance, and Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat. If he asked Izzy to dance…
He glanced at her, and she glanced at him, then they both glanced away.
They couldn’t dance and discuss their project. It was too secret, too private a conversation to have among other dancers.
To dance with Izzy, or to talk with Izzy… or to stand here trying to decide what to do with Izzy.
Then suddenly, Izzy got up from her seat and started moving away from the group. He watched her for a moment, then looked at the others, none of whom were paying any attention to him.
What had he missed? Had he been so distracted in his thoughts that he had somehow not seen a signal she had given him? Was she running an errand for someone?
Lady Hetty suddenly speared him with a knowing look, then tilted her head pointedly in Izzy’s direction.
Of all the potential allies in the world, he hadn’t expected that one. He inclined his head in gratitude, then strode as nonchalantly as he could after Izzy.
He saw her destination straight away and moved quickly to intercept her.
“Izzy,” he murmured near her ear.
She jumped and whirled to face him, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh!” She exhaled in a rush of air, smiling up at him. “Oh, Sebastian, you startled me so.”
“Apologies,” he said with a quick smile. “I only wanted to take the opportunity while I could. I thought we could discuss our venture while away from the others.”
Izzy looked over at the others, then up at him. “Oh, I would love to. But I’m to fetch a drink for Lady Hetty.”
Now Sebastian grinned outright. “Well, she is the one who indicated I should follow you, so I do believe we have a few moments to spare.”
“Did she, indeed?” Izzy narrowed her eyes in the direction of Lady Hetty, then smirked up at Sebastian. “Very well. Come over here.”
She hurried away from the punch to a column of the room, sliding behind it. He followed and found that there was space enough for a discussion, and due to the lack of visibility of the dance from it, space enough for privacy.
“What did you think of the drawings I sent over?” he asked, allowing the excitement and nerves he had felt for days to be expressed.
Izzy’s eyes lit up, and she beamed at him. “They were perfect! It was as if you already knew the stories and the style I wanted! They were realistic while still holding the charm of childhood imaginations, and I can easily see how they can be adapted to story specifics.” Her smile turned distinctly impish. “The lark with the bonnet was adorable.”
Sebastian grinned without reserve, pleased beyond measure that she thought so. “That was my favorite as well. I don’t know if you have a lark in a story yet, but may I suggest Lucinda Lark in the very near future?”
“I think we can arrange a story for her,” Izzy told him, the corners of her eyes crinkling in a rather charming way.
“So, now what?” Sebastian asked, folding his arms and leaning against the column. “Where do we go from here?”
Izzy blew out a breath in thought, making a bit of hair at her brow dance. “I think we had better take your concept art and go to Cousin Frank. He will need to approve it, and I would hate for you to put in so much effort before we know if it works.”
He shrugged at that. “I wouldn’t mind working up a series of drawings for a particular story. In fact, I’d love it. And it might help your cousin to see how it would play out together. It could give us a better chance. Send one to me as soon as you can, and I’ll see what comes to mind.” A sudden smile curved Izzy’s lips, and he stared at it in wonder for a moment. “What?”
She wet her lips carefully, then looked up at him almost sheepishly. “Us. You said us. I’m not used to having someone else along with me in all this.” Her cheeks colored, but she kept his gaze. “I like it.”
There was nothing he could think of to say to that. He liked it too. He liked it a great deal. He felt himself smiling, couldn’t bring himself to look away from her, and if her breathing, and his, were anything to go by, there was nothing resembling politeness in her statement.
Or his feelings.
Suddenly, he was looking at her lips again, neither too full nor too thin, and now slightly parted. He had the sudden urge to touch them, to stroke that fuller bottom lip with the edge of his thumb, to even press his own lips to them for a taste.
He blinked and inhaled roughly, dragging his gaze back to her eyes, which did not seem as safe as they had before.
Had he leaned closer to her? When? How?
A loud laugh broke whatever spell Sebastian had suddenly come under, and he straightened with a jerk, clearing his throat quickly as he moved to look for the source of the laughter.
Izzy sighed beside him, the sound a resigned one. “It’s Annabelle.”
He glanced down at her quickly. “Who is?”
She indicated their host and hostess currently strolling about the room. They were a captivating couple who had clearly spared no expense for their gathering or their ensembles. They were all smiles, seemed to know everyone in the room, and were apparently delighted by the sight of them all.
“I’ve met her once,” Sebastian murmured to Izzy, “and that was apparently enough to garner an invitation for Kitty and myself this evening.”
Izzy nodded, pursing her lips in a strained way. “Annabelle has always loved people. And the attention from them. She dearly loves playing hostess.”
There was a tense note in Izzy’s voice, and Sebastian turned fully to look at her. “What is the story there, Izzy? Why do Charlotte and Georgie hate her?”
“It’s nothing, really,” Izzy assured him, though she would not meet his eyes.
“Why don’t I believe that?” He moved back behind the pillar and pulled her with him. “Come on, Izzy. Out with it.”
“It won’t serve,” she whispered, ducking her chin.
He reached out and lifted her chin with his fingers, waiting for her eyes to clash with his. “I don’t care,” he told her with the utmost gentleness. “Please, tell me.”
She hesitated, her eyes searching his, then she closed her eyes and nodded. She moved slightly, her position now squarely behind the pillar, out of sight of anyone but him.
“Annabelle and I were friends in our younger years,” Izzy murmured, her eyes somewhere on his waistcoat. “She married Mr. Stafford fairly young and told a small group of us that she wanted us all to dress similarly for her wedding, despite not being attendants. A way to honor her friends, and have them honor her, as it were.”
It wasn’t a common request of friends of the bride, but Sebastian supposed that was neither here nor there. He leaned in to listen a little more closely, Izzy’s voice nearly lost amidst the general murmuring and the music.
“I went to Annabelle after and inquired as to the color or style she wished for us, and she was kind enough to tell me.” Izzy swallowed harshly, her eyes shifting towards the dancing. “But when the day of the wedding came, I arrived to find the other girls
not only wearing gowns different than what I had been told, but all were bridesmaids. No one else was wearing anything like what I was. None of the guests knew that I should have been among them, and none of the others had any idea of my torment.”
Sebastian watched Izzy as her cheeks flushed, then slowly returned to their normal shade. There was pain still in her words, and clearly in the memory, but he couldn’t hear a single bitter note in it. And she was here, attending this woman’s party, apparently without any concern at all.
“I was mortified,” Izzy whispered, shaking her head. “I was hurt and confused, and I couldn’t say or do anything about it. I endured the wedding celebration for as short a time as would be considered polite, and then I returned home. I never wore that dress again.” She looked up at him, smiling with some sadness. “So. That’s the story. It was all very silly and inconsequential, and really a selfish thing for me to be so concerned with.”
“And yet it still pains you,” he pointed out.
She shrugged a shoulder lightly. “Embarrasses me, rather. As I said, it was selfish and conceited of me to be so concerned about myself in that situation, and on her wedding day.”
It was absolutely nothing of the kind, and it irked him that she would write herself off so easily.
“Are you still friends with them?” he asked. “The girls that were all together in this.”
She seemed surprised by his query. “Of course. Though, admittedly, not as close as we were.”
“Of course?” he repeated incredulously. “What does that even mean, Izzy? You shouldn’t be friends with people who can barely remember your existence.”
Izzy’s brows rose, though her expression showed no hint of naiveté. “If I did that, I would have very few friends.”
“Then so be it!” Sebastian cried in as low a voice as he could, given the crowd of the event. He leaned closer and hissed, “You deserve to have real friends, Izzy, not the ones who have to force themselves to recollect you.”
“No one intends to neglect me,” she insisted, averting her eyes. “They just… can’t seem to remember me. They forget to remember me.”
Spinster and Spice (The Spinster Chronicles, Book 3) Page 16