Page 72 of The Recluse of Wolfeton House (Ladies of Devon 4)

It made Hattie wish she had one of Cook’s delicious berry pies to accidentally press against Mrs. Carter’s pristine pale blue gown.

“Good evening, Miss Green, Mrs. Green,” Mr. Warren said, dipping in a bow as the women greeted him. “I had no idea Devon boasted such fantastic company.”

“Does this mean you will grace us with your presence more often?” Mr. Carter asked.

Mr. Warren shot Hattie a look. “I’m not sure yet.” Clearing his throat, he smiled. “Miss Green, may I claim you for the next set?”

“I would be delighted.”

Lucy squeezed her arm tightly, and Hattie wanted to pry the woman’s fingers loose, but she couldn’t stomach the thought of embarrassing her sister-in-law in front of her wretched friends. If one could even call such a dismissing minx a friend. In Hattie’s experience, friends were meant to uplift, support, and protect. This woman seemed more inclined to compare, degrade, and criticize.

“Will you fetch me something to drink?” Caroline drawled to her husband. “I’m absolutely parched.”

“Of course.” He left to do so, Warren just behind him, and Caroline’s gaze flitted over the group. “I’m not sure what Mr. Warren could possibly mean. All I’ve encountered in Devon are countrified gentry who think they’re better than they are. Gallivanting about the countryside like unkempt farmhands, even. They wouldn’t last two minutes in a London drawing room.”

Hattie gritted her teeth, forcing her mouth closed so she wouldn’t speak her unkempt, countrified mind.

“Perhaps in Melbury,” Lucy said diplomatically, taking Hattie by surprise. “But I have met many fine people in Graton.”

Caroline’s eyes sharpened. Had she been made aware of the childish rivalry between the towns?

“Hattie!” a sweet voice called, buoying her up with its familiarity. Giulia crossed toward her, Nick on her arm, and released her husband in order to pull Hattie into an embrace. She turned her grin on Lucy and took her by the hands. “How good to see you again, Mrs. Green. You look absolutely stunning tonight.”

Lucy’s cheeks pinked, and it was altogether superior to the way Caroline had brought roses to her cheeks. This time the color was born of pleasure and kindness.

“You look lovely as well, Mrs. Pepper.”

“I thank you.” Giulia turned her grin on Hattie. “Nick has promised to dance with me all night, even if it makes us look quite horrid to these Melbury folk. I think it’s wicked of him, but I can’t quite refuse the treat.”

Nick stepped forward. “I would love to claim a dance from both of you, if you have space.”

“Are you quite certain you’re free to do that?” Hattie asked.

Nick shot his wife an indulgent smile. “I’d love to shock the people here, but I don’t truly wish to embarrass my wife.”

Of course not. He was a gentleman of the highest order.

A gentle throat clearing caught their attention, and they all turned toward Caroline, who stood against the wall with a plainly irritated expression.

“Oh, forgive me,” Lucy said, appearing slightly flustered. “Mr. Pepper, Mrs. Pepper, allow me to introduce an old school friend of mine, Mrs. Caroline Carter. She and her husband live just south of Melbury.”

Greetings were exchanged, and the Peppers subdued their jests.

“Amelia is not feeling well so they were forced to remain home, and she was sorry to miss it,” Giulia said softly, so they weren’t overheard.

Hattie scrunched her nose. “I’m only sorry she isn’t feeling well. How is little Olivia?”

“Perfect, as always. Now I am quite ready to dance until the sun comes up. I hope you brought your most comfortable pair of dancing slippers.”

Hattie nodded absently, looking over the growing crowd. She recognized most people, but none of them wore the half-day’s shadow of a beard to cover their perfect cleft chin or wore dark hair just slightly too long over an open-necked shirt. She shook her head. She was clearly looking for Bentley, and he was absolutely not here.

The music began, and Mr. Warren approached her to claim his dance. His hand slid over hers as they moved into position, and she spent the next quarter-hour essentially wrapped in his arms in various motions of the dance. They stepped apart and came back together, his eyes fastened on her deliberately. But the one thing she felt through the duration of the dance was that this man, this red-haired, kind, handsome gentleman, did not ignite even a spark of heat within her chest. Absent was the feeling of warmth and anticipation she felt when Bentley was nearby, the feeling of wholeness she had in his arms.

Maybe…well, she did not wish to sound mad, but what if she was missing those feelings because she had yet to embrace this man? Certainly if his arms were wrapped around her, she would feel something.

She needed to get him alone.

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