“He was looking positively horrified,” came the reply.
“Wouldn’t you be if you were him?”
“Who knows what she said to him? She always has a way of broaching the most inappropriate subjects. She can be so awkward.”
Ugh. Jenny knew that voice—Marie was not a fan of hers and vice versa.
Jenny turned away. She had heard enough. While they never said her name, she would have to be an imbecile not to know they were talking about her.
She stepped closer to Frances, whose attention was still fixed on the dance floor.
“I think it is that bad, Frances. If I’m not insulting the men who dance with me, I’m giving the women plenty to gossip about.”
Jenny looked over to Frances, hoping to find solace and comfort. Instead, she found her sister-in-law standing on her tiptoes, trying to see over the dancing couples.
“Frances? Are you listening?”
“Hmm, what?” Frances huffed out a flustered laugh. “I’m sorry, Jenny. Yes, I heard. I’m sorry, it’s just…” She began to wring her hands—her tell that she was nervous.
“You miss the baby, don’t you?” Jenny smiled.
As much as she needed reassurance, she couldn’t deny the hold that tiny baby had on her entire family.
Frances flushed. “I do. I’m sorry. I’m not used to being away from him for this long. We rarely attend these events anymore, much to the chagrin of your brother.” She winked.
“Ha! I’m sure,” Jenny countered.
“But the Countess specifically asked for our attendance at her ball. She said it would be highly improper for us not to attend and give honor to her matchmaking skills.”
Jenny cocked her head in confusion. “Matchmaking skills?”
Frances flicked her hand. “Oh, were you not aware? Since it was at her dinner party that I first met your brother and it was apparently that evening that sealed our fate. It was her idea that we sit male-female-male-female, therefore she is solely responsible for him sitting next to me.” She rolled her eyes. “If that was the case, I should have sent her my laundering bill for the stain that the drink he spilled on me left.”
Jenny laughed. That sounded exactly like something Lady Staunton would claim. “Go. Find Thomas and get back to that handsome baby boy. I’m sure enough people have seen you and Thomas tonight to be in awe of the Countess’s matchmaking prowess.”
“Are you sure? You still seem upset, I can…” Frances’s eyes found Thomas, and she smiled, once again losing her train of thought.
“You can…?” Jenny prompted.
“What?”
Jenny rolled her eyes and pushed Frances towards her husband. “Go. Give my nephew a big kiss for me.”
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Frances didn’t even let Jenny answer as she continued. “I will tell Lady Staunton—she will see to you.” She hadn’t averted her gaze from Thomas even while talking to Jenny.
Jenny shook her head. “I promise. It’s been a long night, I think I’ll take a break outside and cool off and let my feet rest before I venture back onto the dance floor and risk more injury.”
She winked at Frances as she gave her one more playful shove towards Thomas, who was looking just as anxious to leave as his wife was.
She watched them leave and couldn’t help but feel bereft. Smoothing down her dress, she eyed the shortest path to the terrace, and then made for the door. Luckily, she happened to look up and see that Marie and her minions had moved to the terrace.
No, thank you.
Jenny quickly scanned the ballroom for another escape route. She found a door that led to a well-lit hallway. Feeling some sense of security with the lights, she tried her luck with the first door on her left and sighed in relief when it opened.
The room was dark, with only the faint moonlight filtering through a grand window in the middle of the wall. Shadows danced along the bookcases that lined the rest of the walls.
A library. The perfect room for solitude.