“Though they do look lovely,” he added, “and they smell a treat. But then, so do all the ones in the drawing room and these ones in here.”
“Thank you, John,” Anna said as she cleaned her pen and set it down and Elizabeth folded her embroidery and put it away. “Whoever can they be, Lizzie?”
By the time they arrived in the drawing room, three more gentlemen had arrived, one of them with his mother, another with his sister. And that was just the beginning. They kept coming for all of two hours, the fashionable visiting hours, Elizabeth explained later, and stayed for half an hour apiece. Elizabeth poured the tea when the tray was brought in and Anna concentrated upon conversing with their guests. It was surprisingly easy, since everyone seemed to be in a hearty good mood and talked easily with one another. There was a great deal of laughter. She did not count the total number of visitors, but there were surely more than twenty in all, only four of whom were ladies.
Anna received five invitations to drive in the park later in the afternoon and accepted the one that came from Mr. Fleming, since he asked first and his invitation included his brother—who had not accompanied him here—and Elizabeth. She also had three invitations to dance the opening set at Lady Hanna’s ball four days hence, which they all assumed she would attend. She had one invitation to join a theater party the following week and another to join a party at Vauxhall, also next week. She deflected all five of those invitations by declaring with a laugh that she had not yet had a chance to look through all her invitations and decide which she would accept and which dates were still open to her. Mrs. Gray’s lessons, though lighthearted and laughter filled, had been invaluable.
Written invitations really had been arriving all day, and the butler brought them into the drawing room on a silver salver after the last of the guests had left.
“Oh goodness, Lizzie,” Anna said as they sorted through them, “how very kind everyone is. I really thought that after last night I might have put myself beyond the pale.”
Elizabeth was shaking her head at her. “You really do not understand, Anna, do you?” she said. “I will not say you are the wealthiest lady in England, but I am quite sure you are among the five or so wealthiest. And you are young and newly arrived upon the social stage. And . . . you are single.”
“But just a short while ago,” Anna said, “I was an orphan and a teacher at an orphan school.”
Her answer struck them both as funny and they went off into whoops of laughter. Though Anna was not quite sure she was amused.
“We had better get ready to drive out with Mr. Fleming and his brother,” Elizabeth said. “Just do not expect it to be a quiet drive, Anna.”
* * *
Avery called at the Earl of Riverdale’s rented house in the middle of the afternoon and found that he had just returned home from escorting his mother to the library. He raised his eyebrows when Avery was admitted to the sitting room where the two of them had just settled for refreshments. He might well be surprised, Avery thought, for the two men, while not enemies, had never been friends either.
“Avery,” Mrs. Westcott said, smiling warmly as she got to her feet. “How delightful. Do come and sit down. I am just about to enjoy a cup of tea, but I expect you will have something stronger with Alex. You must have been very pleased with the ball last evening. It went very well, and Anastasia acquitted herself with admirable poise. As for what happened with Viscount Uxbury after supper, well, for my part I can only applaud her having spoken up in defense of poor Camille. I just wish I had heard her.”
“We can only hope, Mama,” the earl said, crossing to the sideboard, “that the rest of the ton agrees with you. What will you have, Netherby?”
Avery sat and conversed for a while until Mrs. Westcott had finished her tea. She got to her feet then and gathered up the three books piled beside her.
“I can see how it is,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “You came for a specific purpose, did you not, Avery? You came to speak privately with Alex and are wondering how you can hint me away. And I have been wondering how I can get away without appearing ill-mannered. I have three new library books and cannot wait to dive into them. No, no need to get up. You neither, Alex. I can hold three books in one hand and open the door with the other.”
Her son got to his feet nevertheless to open the door. He closed it quietly behind her and turned to look at Avery.
“To what do I owe this honor?” he asked.
“I need a second,” Avery said with a sigh, “and thought it might be better to keep it in the family, so to speak.”
There was a beat of silence.
“A second,” Riverdale said, moving to the fireplace and leaning one elbow upon the mantel. “As in a fight? A duel?”
“It is tiresome in the extreme,” Avery said, “but I have been called out by Uxbury for causing him public humiliation and anguish—I believe that latter was the word Jasper Walling used this morning when he presented himself at Archer House on behalf of Uxbury to invite me to name my seconds. I believe he meant a singular second even though he used the plural.”
“The devil!” Riverdale said. “Why Cousin Louise decided that it would be bad manners not to invite the man to the ball escapes my understanding. He was fortunate that either you or I did not throw him down the stairs and chuck him out the doors.”
“Quite so,” Avery agreed. “But I need a second. Will you oblige?”