Though she suspected her sister could handle herself, Violet’s eyes widened at this news.
“Have you never been, either?” he asked.
Sipping the sparkly drink, she shook her head. “Is it beautiful?”
“Whitehall is magnificent. Court itself can be amusing or boring, depending on who deigns to show up that particular day. But I was raised with the court in exile…I imagine you would find it exciting.”
She’d felt more at home among the Royal Society than she’d expected. “Maybe now that I’m eighteen, Father will take me someday.”
“I was thinking I could take you,” he said with that winning smile of his. “After we’re wed.”
He sounded terribly confident, which normally would have irked her. But today, her heart sang instead. He hadn’t given up on her, after all! Held fast by his gaze, she remembered how it had felt to dance with him in their own little wonderland, holding each other close. A rush of warmth shuddered through her.
She wanted to tell him yes. Here. Now. Her gaze went wistfully to the summerhouse again, but this was no time to sneak away, not while she was the center of attention.
Yet she was dying to tell him, and if he had whispered a private message to her, she could do the same…
She raised up on her toes. “Ford—” she began quietly.
“The pineapple!” Rowan squealed, and the moment was lost. They all turned to see a footman approaching, bearing a silver bowl filled with small cubes of yellow fruit. “I hope I like it better than the champagne,” Rowan said as the man put it down.
“Have you tried this already, your grace?” Rose asked the duke.
Trick shook his head. “Never.”
“I’ve seen pineapples before at parties, but only as a decorative centerpiece,” Ford’s sister said. “I suspect someone is making a fortune renting the things so people can impress their friends.”
Mum laughed at the idea. “Do you expect they actually spoil before anyone eats them?”
“I imagine so,” said one of those dark-haired brothers. Jason, the marquess, Violet thought as he curved his arm around the waist of the sister-in-law that had long tawny hair. “From what I understand, most of them rot on the way from the islands. But this one looks perfect.”
“I hope it is,” Father said. “I’ve heard it said that if I dry the crown for a couple of days, I may be able to plant it and grow pineapples, providing I can keep the bush warm during the winter. They’re supposed to have pink flowers that look like a pine cone.” He lifted the bowl and held a spoon out to Ford. “As our guest, will you honor us by trying it first?”
“But this is Violet’s day.” Ford took the spoon, scooped up a cube, and moved it toward her lips.
He’d fed her in the piazza at Gresham, and now, as then, it seemed an almost shocking act. Her gaze darted around to see how their families were reacting, but everyone just looked expectant. And the moment the fruit touched her tongue, she forgot to be self-conscious. Flavor burst in her mouth.
“Oh my,” she said, chewing slowly. “It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted!”
Everyone else scrambled to try it.
“Do you like it?” Violet asked Rowan.
He grinned, yellow pulp in his teeth. “It’s much better than champagne.”
“Oh, but the champagne is so light and delicious!” Lily daintily sipped from her glass. “The pineapple is sweet but…”
“Acidic?” Ford suggested.
“Well, I’m not exactly certain what that means, but it sounds about right.”
He smiled and grabbed a bottle to refill her glass. “Acids react with a base to form a salt.”
Jewel looked up to the sister-in-law with the beautiful raven hair. “Uncle Ford is smart, isn’t he, Mama?”
“I assume your Uncle Ford is very smart,” the woman said with a smile, “since I understand only half of what he says.”
Jewel’s mother. Violet committed that to memory, trying to figure out which gentleman was her husband. Probably the one who laughed now, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Colin. She remembered Ford telling her Colin played practical jokes, so of course he would be Jewel’s father. It was all coming together.
Rowan grinned at Jewel. “I’m glad Violet had such an important birthday.”
“Me, too,” Lily said, sipping more champagne.
“Me three,” Rose added, all but gulping hers.
If Violet didn’t miss her guess, her sisters were getting a bit tipsy.
Doing her best to relax, she looked around at everyone drinking champagne and chatting amiably. The sister-in-law with the straight tawny hair caught her eye and smiled. Jason’s wife, she thought happily, glad she was finally figuring out who was who. She liked them. They seemed friendly.
Then once again, Father cleared his throat. When nobody took heed, he raised Mum’s bell and gave it a shake. Violet winced, sure something else embarrassing was about to come out of his mouth.
“This is quite a momentous occasion. As the oldest, our Violet is now the first to come into her inheritance. I hope you will save it and spend wisely, my dear daughter.”
Violet sighed. She’d been right. Sometimes Father could be so—
“She can use it to buy a husband!” Rose announced with a tipsy giggle.
Violet wished the earth would open up and swallow her.
“Now, Rose,” Mum chided, reaching to brush a bit of pineapple off Father’s surcoat.
“It was but a jest!” Rose poured herself more champagne. “Can you people not abide a jest?”
But Rose was absolutely right: most young ladies would use a large inheritance to buy into a highly ranked family, and most gentlemen would be happy to accept that bargain. Looking around again, Violet no longer saw a warm, good-natured gathering; she saw an assembly of prestigious and powerful men and women.
She took a gulp of her own champagne, but she wasn’t feeling tipsy, just sick.
To think, mere minutes ago, she’d nearly told Ford yes. Now all her doubts came flooding back. She tilted her head back, letting the the bubbly drink run down her throat, wishing
