"Getting Lincolnshire's affairs in order." Wishing he could get his affairs in order, Sean sighed and rose. "Thank you. That felt good." He turned and pressed a kiss to his sister's forehead. "I'm after going up to bed."
"Good night to you, Sean. I hope tomorrow will be a better day."
"I hope so, too," he said.
But hoping, he knew, never accomplished anything. He was a doer, not a hoper…but there seemed nothing he could do these days to make things right.
FORTY
"I SAW HER here earlier," Rachael said, wandering the Teddington ballroom for the second time.
Griffin walked with her, keeping his eyes off her damned clingy dress. Or at least trying to. "I saw her here as well, I think." He wasn't exactly sure which woman was the Dowager Countess of Avonleigh. He realized she was one of the ABC sisters, but Lady C, Juliana's mother-in-law, was the only one of them he knew at all well. He'd always thought of Lady A and Lady B sort of lumped together. One was plump and one was skinny, but he wasn't sure which was which. "Has she got some meat on her bones, or is she a stick?"
"Really, Griffin. She's a perfectly lovely, kind, healthy-looking woman."
The plump one, then. The other one looked like she hadn't eaten in a week, which couldn't possibly be healthy. "Let's check the refreshment room again. And then you can check the ladies' retiring room again."
"And we should check the garden again, too." Rachael turned toward the refreshment room, then turned back. "There's Lady C. I bet she'll know where her sister went. Lady Cavanaugh!" She waved, and Lady C started walking toward them.
They met her halfway. "You look lovely tonight, dear," Lady C told her. "That's a stunning ballgown, and it matches your eyes, which are sparkling like diamonds."
"Thank you," Rachael said, her eyes sparkling even more. "I'm looking for your sister, Lady Avonleigh. Do you know where she might have gone off to?"
"I'm afraid she went home, dear."
"Oh, no. Is she unwell?"
"Not at all. But my sisters are older and don't stay out as late as they used to, especially since they began helping my son run his New Hope Institute. I expect she's sound asleep by now." Lady C put a hand on Rachael's arm. "What did you want with her? Is it something I can help you with?"
"No. I…well, I just need to talk to her. Do you think she'd mind my paying a call on her tomorrow?"
"I'm sure she wouldn't mind at all," Lady C said, looking curious but obviously much too polite to press. She pulled her reticule off her wrist and opened it, fishing out a scrap of paper and a pencil. "She lives just off Oxford Street. I'll write down her direction for you."
"I know where she lives. I was at her house for my cousin Corinna's art reception."
"How could I have forgotten that?" With a charming laugh, Lady C dropped the items back into her fancy little purse. "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you again."
"Thank you so much," Rachael said, and waited patiently while Lady C walked off. Or at least, she looked patient. No sooner had the older woman got out of earshot than she whirled to Griffin. "Lady Cavanaugh is my aunt—can you believe it? She's such a nice lady. The wait is going to kill me. Can we visit Lady Avonleigh first thing tomorrow? You'll come with me, won't you?"
"I need to take Corinna to Lady Hartley's breakfast."
"That doesn't start until half past one. The best people won't get there until three o'clock. It isn't fashionable to arrive at parties on time."
He'd never understand why a garden party that started after one o'clock was called a breakfast. He ate breakfast every morning at eight. And why the devil was it fashionable to arrive late? But maybe Corinna would be more cooperative if he allowed her to paint until three. "Very well, then. We'll go see Lady Avonleigh right after church."
"How about before church?"
"You can't wake up an old lady to give her this news, Rachael. Or interrupt her toilette. And then no doubt she'll be in church, and then she'll want luncheon." Lady A was the one who liked to eat, after all, and Lady Hartley wouldn't be serving "breakfast" until the fashionable people arrived. "I'll pick you up at one o'clock."
"Then we won't get to Lady A's until half past one. What if she's left for Lady Hartley's house already?"
"You just told me people won't arrive until three. Half past noon, then. That ought to be safe."
"I cannot wait that long."
"You've already waited twenty-four years, remember? I expect you'll survive."
"All right," Rachael muttered, sounding more than disgruntled. But her eyes were still sparkling. She looked better than she had in months, as though she were blossoming, as though a weight had lifted off her shoulders. Not that she'd looked bad before…
She licked her lips.
Good God, he would really be in trouble now.
"HOW IS IT going?" Griffin asked.
Startled, Corinna jumped, then quickly stepped from behind her easel, struggling out of the fog she'd worked in all day.
"All right," she said, though the painting was going brilliantly.
Although it was faced away from him, she raised her palette before it like a shield. She couldn't risk Griffin's seeing it before she'd changed Sean's hair and eyes—she didn't want him to know Sean was her model unless he had to know. Unless she decided she had no choice but to tell him. With any luck, Griffin might decide she could marry Sean without ever learning he'd posed nude.
"I don't want you to see it until it's finished."
He only shrugged, in any case. He'd never cared overmuch about her art. "I'm glad to hear it's going well. I want you to attend Lady Hartley's breakfast tomorrow."
"I'm not going, Griffin. I already told you that. How was the Teddington ball?"
"It went well. I lined
