When Mr. Stevens opened the door, William and another gentleman whom Amy had never met before stood on the front steps.
William’s eyes lit up, and he walked directly to her. “Good evening, Lady Amy.” He took her hand and kissed it. Good heavens, he was acting like a beau. She broke into a sweat and sneaked a glance at Aunt Margaret, who seemed just as flustered as Amy, with her escort also kissing her hand.
Well, weren’t they a couple of silly women!
Aunt Margaret took her escort’s arm and turned him toward Amy. “My dear, may I present to you Lord Pembroke. My lord, this is Lady Amy Lovell, my niece.”
He bent over Amy’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Amy. I see Lady Margaret is not the only woman in the family who inherited beauty.”
“I agree,” William quickly added.
Lord Pembroke appeared to be in his middle or late forties. He had maintained a youthful form, most likely from exercise. He had deep-blue eyes and very straight light-brown hair struck through with silver strands. But the man’s most attractive feature was a bright smile that showed handsome dimples.
Aunt Margaret flushed again, and Amy almost swallowed her tongue. In all the years she’d known her aunt, she’d never seen her react to the attentions of a man. Quite interesting. She couldn’t wait until they returned home later and she could pepper her with questions.
The women were assisted into their capes and they all left, Amy and William to his carriage and Aunt Margaret and Lord Pembroke to his vehicle.
“Pembroke?” William said as they rolled away from the house. “I didn’t know he was even in town.”
“Do you know him?”
“Yes. He’s quite well known in the business circles in London. An earl, he holds a substantial portfolio and is heavy into railroad stocks. In fact, we share a membership in the same London club.”
“You belong to a club in London?”
“Yes. Boodle’s. I maintain a membership for the times I travel to town.” He grinned. “And no, before you ask, there are no female members.”
* * *
They had been at the dance for more than an hour when Aunt Margaret walked up to Amy, determination in her step. Amy and Mr. Pipers had just returned from a very lively cotillion, and he had gone to fetch her a drink.
“What is the matter, Aunt? You look angry.”
Aunt Margaret took a deep breath. “Perhaps angry, but more anxious to pass along very important information to you.” She drew Amy aside, away from the two women with whom Amy had been speaking.
“Excuse us,” Aunt Margaret said as she took Amy’s arm. “Let’s stroll.”
They made their way to the edge of the room where chairs lined the walls, most of them occupied by older attendees and the usual group of wallflowers. Aunt Margaret looked at the line of chairs and shook her head. “This won’t work. We have to go somewhere private.”
They eventually went outside the room and down the stairs to a small alcove with a cushioned window seat. Once they settled in, Aunt Margaret took Amy’s hand. “I just overheard a very interesting conversation in the ladies’ retiring room.”
“Yes?”
“Two women were discussing Miss Hemphill. They didn’t know I was in the room, so I remained quiet so they would not discover me behind the screen.”
Amy’s heart sped up. “What did they say?”
“Our Miss Hemphill is indeed not feeling her normal self.”
She nodded. “Yes, I know that. I saw her at the sewing circle. She looks dreadful.”
“What you might not know is she is apparently ill with guilt.”
Amy drew back and regarded her aunt. “Indeed?”
“One of the women blurted out that Miss Hemphill had been bemoaning how her actions had ruined her life.”
Amy continued to watch Aunt Margaret, her eyebrows raised.