flirtatious manner. In any other young girl, Lady Benborough would have strongly argued for a more demure style. But she had watched Arabella carefully. The girl had quick wits and a ready tongue. She never stepped beyond what was acceptable, though she took delight in sailing close to the wind. Now, convinced that no harm would come of Arabella’s artful play, Augusta nodded benignly as that young lady strolled by, accompanied by the inevitable gaggle of besotted gentlemen.
One of their number was declaiming,
‘“My dearest flower,
More beautiful by the hour,
To you I give my heart.’”
Arabella laughed delightedly and quickly said, “My dear sir, I beg you spare my blushes! Truly, your verses do me more credit than I deserve. But surely, to do them justice, should you not set them down on parchment?” Anything was preferable to having them said aloud.
The budding poet, young Mr. Rawlson, beamed. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Miss Arabella. I’ll away and transcribe them immediately. And dedicate them to your inspiration!” With a flourishing bow, he departed precipitately, leaving behind a silence pregnant with suppressed laughter.
This was broken by a snigger from Lord Shannon. “Silly puppy!”
As Mr. Rawlson was a year or two older than Lord Shannon, who himself appeared very young despite his attempts to ape the Corinthians, this comment itself caused some good-natured laughter.
“Perhaps, Lord Shannon, you would be so good as to fetch me some refreshment?” Arabella smiled sweetly on the hapless youngster. With a mutter which all interpreted to mean he was delighted to be of service to one so fair, the young man escaped.
With a smile, Arabella turned to welcome Viscount Pilborough to her side.
Augusta’s eyelids drooped. The temperature in the room seemed to rise another degree. The murmuring voices washed over her. Her head nodded. With a start, she shook herself awake. Determined to keep her mind active for the half-hour remaining, she sought out her charges. Lizzie was chattering animatedly with a group of débutantes much her own age. The youngest Twinning was surprisingly innocent, strangely unaware of her attractiveness to the opposite sex, still little more than a schoolgirl at heart. Lady Benborough smiled. Lizzie would learn soon enough; let her enjoy her girlish gossiping while she might.
A quick survey of the room brought Caroline to light, strolling easily on the arm of the most eligible Mr. Willoughby.
“It’s so good of you to escort your sister to these parties, sir. I’m sure Miss Charlotte must be very grateful.” Caroline found conversation with the reticent Mr. Willoughby a particular strain.
A faint smile played at the corners of Mr. Willoughby’s thin lips. “Indeed, I believe she is. But really, there is very little to it. As my mother is so delicate as to find these affairs quite beyond her, it would be churlish of me indeed to deny Charlotte the chance of becoming more easy in company before she is presented.”
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