“By midnight of the Christmas Ball, in fact.”
Antoinette looked surprised. “How did you know?”
“You told me. But I still have not seen evidence that they are madly in love.”
“He's already had two clandestine meetings with her in the shrubbery."
The sisters threw open the door to the billiards room, causing their respective husbands to look up, Quamby asking, “And what were you doing in the shrubbery that you observed this, dearest wife? Or were you spying from the yellow drawing room? One never can tell with you." He removed his strawberry-red wig to give his bald scalp a judicious scratch while waiting for a response.
Naturally, Antoinette wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. "Not the yellow drawing room, for one can only see the drive and the comings and goings of our guests. However, I saw it from the blue drawing room on the western side, of course, which affords a marvelous view of the woods as well as the folly. Well, of the path leading to the folly. Unfortunately, one cannot quite see through the windows to the bed in there that we exchanged for the chaise longue."
"At your insistence, my dear. I'm sure you've enjoyed many lazy afternoon rests after the exertion of the fifty-yard walk from the lake."
"It can be tiring," Antoinette agreed. "And the quiet darkness amidst such charming surroundings is the perfect antidote to an afternoon's boredom."
Fanny exchanged an amused look with her husband. Antoinette and Quamby rubbed along quite well together and seemed to enjoy alluding to their extramarital dalliances in code in front of others. Fanny suspected it was a trait that was ingrained in her sister, always the extrovert. Briefly, she wondered if Antoinette had ever been in love. She seemed to live for brief, passionate flings, her heart never broken for more than twenty-four tragic hours following the demise of each love affair.
For Antoinette, it was clearly the thrill of the chase—or setting up the amours of some other worthy pair—that sustained her.
"And so the notorious matchmakers are in fact doing a public good at last," Fenton observed, beckoning Fanny to his side and handing her the billiard cue.
"Our instincts are acute," Antoinette said as Fanny lined up the shot before drawing back the cue and striking the ball with a neat and decisive thwack. With beautiful precision, the red knocked the side of the table, changed direction, and rolled neatly and obediently into the pocket to the sound of admiring applause from the others.
"As acute as Fanny's abilities to make things happen just as we direct," Antoinette said, pressing her lips together at her sister’s sharp look.
A sharp look which did not miss the fact that Antoinette was clearly concocting more than she was prepared to reveal.
So, when the gentlemen were once again absorbed in their game and having ensured there were no eavesdropping guests in their vicinity, Fanny drew her sister to the curtained alcove and demanded that Antoinette reveal her cards.
“Really Fanny, you take these things far too seriously.” Antoinette sounded cross as she gazed out over the sloping lawn to the lake at the bottom of the garden.
"And when you’re looking so very pleased with yourself, I can’t help but think you are not taking things seriously enough," Fanny replied. "Out with it! What ingenious plan have you been concocting?"
Antoinette didn’t need much persuading. She was always very amenable to telling her sister and husband how acute her perceptions were, and as a result, how clever she was at orchestrating the most wonderful of outcomes.
"First of all, I think I know just how to make Sebastian and Arabella’s dreams come true. And, secondly, I'm thinking how handsome Signor Boticelli is and that he and I ought to have a little additional dancing practise so we can demonstrate to our guests during the Christmas Ball how the waltz really should performed.”
“Weren’t you going to give Venetia a little nudge in his direction?” Fanny asked. “I thought you were going to take pity on the mousey little companion.”
“Clearly she is not interested in men, otherwise she’d not bury herself beneath that dreadful cap and look the other way anytime someone glanced at her.” Antoinette patted her décolletage. "I’m going to suggest this plan today to our very handsome dancing tutor. I trust he’ll have time to give me a few private dancing lessons."
“You can’t possibly include him on the guest list, Antoinette. And what about Venetia? What is to become of her?" Fanny felt a mixture of amusement and faint alarm. Antoinette could be so single-minded in her attempts at seduction, but what if Signor Boticelli had his sights set on someone else?
Like the mousy companion. Only this morning Fanny had spoken kindly to the girl to elicit her feelings on whether she was disinclined to subject herself to the dancing lessons after being so roundly criticized on her lack of grace, if Antoinette’s opinion on the matter were to be believed.
Instead of relief that she may be granted a reprieve, the girl had burst out with a most uncharacteristic, "I enjoy the dancing lessons more than I can say!"
And if that were the case, then Signor Boticelli could be the only reason.
"Do take care not to break hearts," she cautioned her sister, but Antoinette just tossed her head. "I think Signor Boticelli is very capable of holding onto his and having what fun is to be had under our roof."
"I was more worried about Venetia."
Antoinette's brow furrowed. "But she's just the companion. Oh yes, I know we had plans for her, but if she can’t take the trouble to wear something more becoming than the drab gowns she favors, or look pleased at what I'd gone to such pains to devise, then she should have no expectations of improving her lot. Why, I put Signor right under her nose, and if she does nothing to engage him, it's hardly my fault, is it?"
"I do hear you, sister, but I fear she is what might be termed a young lady of quiet passions. I doubt she meets many gentlemen. What if she is falling in love with Signor Boticelli? I saw them gazing into each other’s eyes when I put my head around the door earlier."
"What has love got to do with this?" Antoinette stopped and stared at Fanny as if she genuinely did not know. "If Signor wants to marry Lady Indigo’s little companion, that's one thing. If he and I spend a little time together in gainful instruction, that's something entirely different."
"I just don't want to see hearts broken."
"Well, you won't!" Antoinette huffed, turning her back on her sister, before swinging around to look once more through the window and pointing with sudden energy. "If you’re so concerned, why don’t you go outside and reassure yourself with a conversation with Venetia, who I see pushing Lady Indigo by the lake right now." She turned and began to walk toward the passage. "And with Sebastian who is lurking by the trees near the walkway,” she added over her shoulder. “I'm sure he's hoping for an assignation with Arabella whom I also saw taking a turn by the lake. You're the cunning one when it comes to asking the right questions, Fanny. If you're so worried about broken hearts, why don’t you reassure yourself—and me, of course—that Arabella and Sebastian really are star-crossed lovers, and that Venetia has, in fact, no interest in her handsome dancing tutor.” She huffed out a breath, adding balefully, “To insinuate that I have any motive other than to selflessly procure the happiness of everyone within my orbit, is to do me a great unkindness!"