“Yes. I’ll be reciting a poem.”
“How wonderful.”
“And you?” Mrs. Sheldon asked.
“No.” Further conversation was avoided as Cecilia introduced Mrs. Hatcliff-Lind, who would play the pianoforte.
Genie slid a glance toward Lord Satterfield, who gave her a knowing half smile as the first notes were struck. He mouthed, See, it’s fine.
She couldn’t help but grin and nearly giggled along with it. Oh, she liked him. And if she wasn’t careful, everyone would notice—if they hadn’t already. She wasn’t ready to be matched.
Except she could hear Jerome’s voice in her head: Promise me you’ll marry again, Genie. I can’t bear to think of you alone for so long.
She’d answered, Perhaps I’ll die tomorrow and you’ll recover. Then it’s you who must wed.
He’d laughed, then coughed, and she’d apologized for causing him distress. He’d waved her concern away and taken her hand. If I were to recover—and if you were taken from me—I would try to find happiness again. It wouldn’t be the same. Nothing could ever be. But I would try. I sincerely want you to do the same. Because we both know I’m not going to recover.
Though two years had passed, and Genie had shed more tears than she could ever count, the memory still pulled at her chest. The sting was less, tempered with a bittersweet joy to have had what they’d shared, even if it had been abbreviated.
No, nothing could ever be the same, nor did Genie want it to be. Still, she had ended up promising him she would try.
Stealing another quick look at Lord Satterfield, Genie wondered if she was ready. She honestly didn’t know, and furthermore, didn’t know how she would know. Perhaps that was her answer.
As soon as the performances ended, Genie hastened to her chamber, where she stayed closeted with her uncertainties until dinner.
Chapter 4
Edmund took breakfast in his room the following day. He’d stayed up rather late the night before, carousing with a few of the other gentlemen. That wasn’t how he’d envisioned his night, but when the dowager duchess had been absent from the drawing room after dinner, Edmund had altered his plans. Disappointed, he’d found consolation in brandy and cards.
She’d also been absent most of yesterday, notably after the performances in the ballroom. Edmund couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so aroused, and not just physically—all from simply sitting beside her.
Well, not just sitting beside her. They’d also talked and traded Shakespearean quotes, and Edmund was nearly completely smitten. Nearly?
There was definitely an attraction, and it seemed mutual. Was it? Was he the reason she’d taken to hiding away in her chamber? He hoped not. And yet he couldn’t ignore the thrill that shot through him to think that he was affecting her as keenly as she was affecting him.
He wanted to know for sure. But that was deuced difficult when she didn’t come downstairs.
What if she wasn’t interested in him? Or if she just wasn’t ready for romance again? Perhaps they were doomed when it came to forming a romantic attachment. Since Edmund had come to this party with the intention of finding a potential wife, he ought to consider other women.
Taking a deep breath of resignation, he made his way into the ballroom, where they were to play blind man’s buff this afternoon. Several guests were already present, gathered together in a few clusters of conversation. Unfortunately, Edmund didn’t see the dowager duchess among them.
Edmund walked toward the nearest group and was immediately intercepted by Lady Bradford as she stepped away from the others. Perhaps five years younger than Edmund, the dowager countess was a stunning blonde of petite height with incandescent pale blue eyes.
“Good afternoon, Lord Satterfield,” she said. “Are you ready for blind man’s buff?”
“I am. I haven’t played in years.”
“I have, but with my daughters.” She had three girls, and that was all Edmund knew of them.
“How old are they?” he asked.
“Twelve, ten, and seven. Let me just tell you, there is a vast divide between twelve and seven that far exceeds five years,” she said with humor. “It is nice to be away for a respite, to be honest.”
“I’m sure.” He could only imagine, of course.
Another guest joined them. Mrs. Makepeace was the youngest person at the party. At just twenty-five, she’d been married only a little over a year before losing her husband. She was taller than Lady Bradford with a slender frame and dark honey-blonde hair. “I just heard that this version of blind man’s buff is to include kissing.” She waggled her brows.
Lady Bradford grinned. “How lovely. Can you imagine that happening at any other house party?”
Mrs. Makepeace narrowed her eyes playfully. “You’d be surprised at what some people get away with.”
“Probably. It’s been some time since I attended a house party,” Lady Bradford said. “And certainly never one like this.”
“It’s rather brilliant, though, isn’t it?” Mrs. Makepeace looked around the room with glee. “It just feels more…relaxed.”
Lady Bradford nodded. “Indeed. The expectations are clear. I feel as though I can be entirely myself.”
Edmund couldn’t disagree. He also couldn’t help but think it was different for him because he was a man. He never felt as if he couldn’t be precisely who he wanted to be. “I’m glad you’re both enjoying it.”
They both swung their heads toward him, but it was Mrs. Makepeace who asked, “Are you? Enjoying the party, that is.”
At that moment, the dowager duchess walked into the ballroom. Edmund’s pulse picked up. “Immensely.”
He found it difficult to resist the urge to walk over and greet her. Instead, he feasted on her elegant gait as she moved into the ballroom. Mr. Sterling met her with a smile, and Edmund watched with blistering annoyance. No, not just annoyance—jealousy.
Lady Bradford and Mrs. Makepeace continued to speak, but Edmund only half listened. They were discussing how kissing might be inserted into blind man’s buff. Edmund was only interested insofar as he might get a chance to kiss the dowager duchess.
Eugenia.
Lady Cosford was back on the dais they’d used for their performances the day before. “I think everyone is here. If I have my counting right.” She laughed gaily. “As you know, we’re going to play blind man’s buff. Does anyone not know how to play?”
Everyone glanced about, but no one indicated in the affirmative. Edmund couldn’t help but shift his gaze to Eugenia. He was pleased to see she was doing the same with him. He smiled at her, but she only half smiled in return. He found that concerning.
“Excellent,” Lady Cosford said. “We’re going to add a little something to our game today. When the blind man finds and correctly identifies a person, they will kiss them.”
There were many verbal responses as well as a few barks of laughter.
“What if I pick Lord Audlington?” Sir Godwin asked.
Lady Cosford pivoted toward Sir Godwin. “You may kiss him however you like—there are no rules as to the type of kiss.” She gave him a saucy smile.