Frances took a sip of wine and eyed Lady Julianna from behind her glass. The blonde was here at the house party with her mother and younger sister, who’d just made her debut this Season and had yet to secure an engagement. Lady Julianna was everything Frances was not. Regal. Poised. Charming. Gorgeous. How she managed to always keep a serene and inviting look on her face, Frances would never know. No doubt about it, Lady Julianna was a diamond of the first water. Surely her dowry was indecent. And Frances was entirely certain that Lady Julianna never did anything inappropriate such as bringing up politics to potential suitors. No wonder the Marquess of Murdoch had come calling.
When Lady Julianna suddenly turned and met Frances’s gaze, Frances nearly dropped her wine glass. She quickly looked away. Perfect. Now she’d been caught staring at Lady Julianna Montgomery. What more rude behavior could she display this evening? She glanced at the clock that rested on the mantelpiece in the center of the long room. That clock had to be the slowest contraption in history. She sighed under her breath. She’d be forced to sit here for at least two more hours, if not three. These sorts of formal affairs were ever so lengthy and tedious. Especially when the talk was as trivial as it was at present. Mama was chatting with the woman on the other side of her about Sir Reginald’s imminent arrival. Frances was already bored, and the knight hadn’t even arrived yet.
The only thing that was keeping the evening from being completely wasted was the fact that the extremely handsome footman who’d helped with the trunks and asked for her name this morning was serving the table. She’d been unable to keep her gaze from him all evening. Was it her imagination or had he just glanced at her? Lucas was his name. Mr. Lucas. He’d been awfully kind to her. He’d even tried to give her back her coin. She’d never known a servant to do such a thing. She’d also never known a servant to be as handsome and well-built as he was. In addition to being tall, his broad shoulders filled out the black jacket he was wearing perfectly, not to mention his—Good heavens, her cheeks were heating. Mama would have a conniption if she knew the impure thoughts Frances was having about a footman. She hid her smile behind her napkin and tried not to glance at Mr. Lucas. Much.
Moments later, Sir Reginald came hurrying into the dining room. “I’m awfully sorry to be late, my lady,” he said to their hostess, “but I received a letter from the Prince Regent, and well, one does not wait to read a letter from Georgie.” He pretended as if he only meant Lady Clayton to hear, but his words had been loud enough to reach the entire dining room.
Frances couldn’t help it. She glanced at Mr. Lucas. Had he just rolled his eyes? That was interesting. She took another sip from her wine glass to keep from smiling again.
Sir Reginald soon located the empty chair to Frances’s right and proceeded to seat himself. He was just about to open his mouth to speak when Mama leaned across Frances to say, “My dear Sir Reginald, you must tell us what the Prince Regent said in his letter.”
Frances didn’t miss that Mama had also emphasized the words Prince Regent and nearly toppled out of her chair in her attempt to garner Sir Reginald’s attention.
A self-satisfied smirk popped to the knight’s thin lips as Mr. Lucas settled a napkin on his lap. Sir Reginald didn’t spare the footman so much as a glance, Frances noted with some distaste.
Sir Reginald cleared his throat. “Why, he asked how I’m getting on at the house party and wanted to know if I’d like to come to dinner at Carlton House upon my return,” Sir Reginald announced, his voice raised again for the entire table to hear.
“Did you hear that, Frances?” Mama asked nodding more. “Sir Reginald has been invited to Carlton House.”
Frances did her best to smile and nod also, but she was certain both looked pained and awkward. Why did they keep emphasizing the words Prince Regent and Carlton House? Frances had never given a fig about the prince and wasn’t about to start now. The man was almost always on the wrong side of every political issue she’d ever taken an interest in.
“I intend to write back and invite him here, with Lady Clayton’s blessing, of course.” Sir Reginald smiled and nodded toward Lady Clayton who raised her wine glass and inclined her head and said, “Of course, Sir Reginald. Of course.”
Mama nearly squealed. She pressed one hand to her chest. “The Regent! Coming here! Why, just think of it, Frances.”
A great deal of talking and excitement bubbled throughout the room at the news that the Prince Regent would be invited to join them. Frances glanced at Mr. Lucas who had pursed his lips and raised his brows in the semblance of being mock-excited about the news too. She smothered her laugh behind her napkin again just before Sir Reginald turned to her and said, “My dear Miss Wharton, it’s lovely to see you again. I still recall our fascinating discussion of whist the last time we spoke.”
“I recall it, too,” Frances managed to croak, while Mama smiled approvingly. Frances glanced at Mr. Lucas when she said it and was convinced she saw the hint of a smile hovering at his firm lips. Goodness, that man was handsome. Was it hot in the dining room of a sudden?
“Yes,” Mama added, “Frances has mentioned your fascinating conversation about whist
