The Lady By His Side(11)

Antonia, who was currently surrounded by young ladies, three of whom were throwing intrigued glances his way.

He looked at the front door, confirming no more guests had arrived. On impulse, he turned to Cecilia. “Are we the last?”

She scanned the heads, then nodded. “I believe you are.”

“In that case”—he wasn’t sure inviting Cecilia’s assistance in even a minor way was wise, but when it came to the other gentlemen present, he needed her insights rather than Antonia’s—“perhaps you might introduce me to the gentlemen. I don’t see any I know.”

Cecilia beamed and linked her arm with his. “Of course.”

He endured more than ten minutes of her leaning a little too heavily on his arm, of her pressing a little too definitely against his side. But she did as he’d asked and introduced him to all the men there.

Being the last to arrive was helpful; he was able to put all the men in context—who was a friend of whom.

Ennis’s younger brother, Connell Boyne, was about Sebastian’s age and had arrived from Ireland over a week ago. Sebastian was given to understand that Connell acted as his brother’s agent on the Ennis estate outside Tulla; he was left to infer that Connell’s presence in Kent was in relation to the management of said estate.

There were three other bachelors present, all about thirty years old—a Mr. Henry Filbury, a Mr. Patrick Wilson, and a Mr. Baylor Worthington. Filbury and Wilson were Anglo-Irish, family friends of the Boynes and particular friends of Connell’s, while Worthington was an Englishman, a friend of Connell’s who lived in London.

Two old friends of Ennis’s—a Mr. Samuel Parrish and a Mr. Harold McGibbin—were there with their wives. Both men were of an age with Ennis—somewhere around forty years old. The pair appeared to be well-to-do landowners and were Anglo-Irish; by way of a holiday designed to appease their wives, the foursome were making a tour of various spas in southern England. Ennis had invited them to stay as part of their holiday.

Lord Ennis himself wasn’t in the hall. Sebastian waited for Cecilia to mention her husband. Had something occurred to send Ennis running? Or…? He longed to ask Cecilia or one of the other men, but didn’t wish in any way to signal that he had an interest in Ennis.

Indeed, if any there knew of his affair with Cecilia, him asking after Ennis would be the last thing they would expect him to do.

Eventually, Cecilia towed him to make his bow to the older ladies—Mrs. Parrish and Mrs. McGibbin. Both were thoroughly delighted to make the acquaintance of an English marquess, who, moreover, was a duke’s son. To Sebastian’s relief, both ladies kept their avid curiosity in check, yet he still felt distinctly hounded, a sensation that only grew when Cecilia drew him across the hall to meet the younger ladies.

Miss Melinda Boyne, a cousin of Ennis’s, was a mousy young woman who had been invited to make up the numbers; she blushed furiously as she thanked Sebastian for coming and thus giving her a chance to have a short holiday from Southampton, where she lived with her aging mother.

Miss Amelie Bilhurst was an English miss with bouncing golden curls; she was a cousin of Mrs. Parrish and was making the tour of the spas with the older couple. Sebastian suspected the Parrishes viewed Miss Bilhurst as a fetcher-and-carrier, but she smiled a great deal and seemed genuinely delighted with her lot.

Finally, Cecilia introduced him to Antonia’s coterie of friends—the Honorable Miss Melissa Wainwright, the Honorable Miss Claire Savage, both daughters of viscounts, and Mrs. Georgia Featherstonehaugh, a somewhat dashing young matron who was transparently attached to her husband, the Honorable Hadley Featherstonehaugh, grandson of the Earl of Titchworth. The latter greeted Sebastian with patent relief.

Although he gave no sign of it, Sebastian was very aware of the assessing glances Miss Wainwright and Miss Savage directed his way; it seemed Antonia had established his role as unwelcome-escort-foisted-upon-her-by-her-overprotective-father only too well.

Then Cecilia was called away to deal with some query from the housekeeper; as her arm slid from his, and she moved away, he very nearly exhaled in relief. Cecilia had placed herself next to Antonia; now she’d vacated the space, he shifted closer to his supposed charge.

She threw him a quick glance, but said nothing—nor did she edge away.

“They’re fussing about rooms,” Miss Wainwright said. “I hope they sort things out soon—I’d like to unpack before tea.”

“I just want a cup of tea,” Georgia Featherstonehaugh said. “We left London in our carriage before six this morning.” She turned an inquiring gaze on Antonia and Sebastian. “How did you two get here?”