The Beguilement of Lady Eustacia Cavanagh (The Cavanaughs 3)

“We’ll just be on our way.”

“Such delightful news—we had to drop by and congratulate Lady Eustacia, but now we really should get on.”

Stacie could only marvel. Mary didn’t have to say or do anything more to prompt the ladies to set down their teacups and beat a path to the door.

As the last straggler bustled out into the hall, Stacie collapsed into an armchair. She looked at Mary. “I don’t know how you do that, but I want to learn.”

Mary smiled, patted her arm, and moved to sit on the chaise opposite. “You’ll learn the knack soon enough. But I should have realized how it would be and come earlier.”

“I’m grovelingly glad you came when you did,” Stacie assured her. “If it had gone on for much longer, I might have screamed.”

Hettie appeared in the drawing room doorway. “That’s the last of them gone, my lady.” She glanced at the tea trays scattered about the room. “Would you like me to bring a fresh tray?”

“Please.” Stacie gestured to the other trays. “Have Rosie help and take these trays away. I haven’t actually managed to have a cup myself yet.”

“Nor I.” Ernestine had claimed one of the other armchairs. “That was…an experience. And not an altogether pleasant one.”

“Oh?” Mary looked her question.

Ernestine waved. “Nothing truly nasty—just a great deal of over-inquisitiveness.”

Felicia and Sylvia had sunk onto the chaise alongside Mary.

Stacie regarded the three ladies. Along with Ernestine, they were her closest friends. She drew in a breath and let it out with, “There’s something I have to tell you all—to explain—but let’s wait until the tea tray arrives.”

All four regarded her sober expression, which stated very clearly that her news wasn’t something they were going to be happy to hear, then Felicia nodded and said, “While we’re waiting, I can report that Rand had quite a conversation with the master of the music school, Mr. Protheroe. There were several gentlemen present last night who invest with Rand, and as a group, they were so impressed with the quality of the young musicians’ performances that they floated the notion of starting a series of musical scholarships to be administered through the school.”

“So,” Sylvia said, with an encouraging smile, “that’s one unlooked-for benefit that has come from your very first musical evening.”

“Even Ryder, who I regret to say is not terribly musically inclined, was impressed,” Mary said.

“Kit, too,” Sylvia added. “He said to tell you that hearing the performances last night made all the evenings he spent sneaking you out of your mother’s house to attend concerts worthwhile.”

Stacie had to smile. “I’m glad he enjoyed the evening.”

“Everyone who attended enjoyed the evening,” Mary informed her. “Although your culminating announcement might have drawn attention from your principal purpose, absolutely everyone present was captivated by the music—they might be temporarily distracted, but they won’t forget the experience.”

Stacie sighed. “I hope not.” She sat up as Hettie appeared, bearing a fresh tea tray. Rosie, the younger parlormaid, slipped into the room in Hettie’s wake. After Hettie set the fresh tea tray on the low table before Stacie, the maids made short work of collecting the other trays.

When the door closed behind them, Stacie looked at the teapot, wondering where to start.

“Tea first,” Mary said, not unkindly. “Here—I’ll pour.”

Stacie sat back and let Mary do the honors.

When all five of them had teacups in their hands and had taken their first sips, Stacie began, “There’s no easy way to say this. The engagement Frederick and I announced last night is a sham—one forced on us by a totally innocent circumstance.”

“Oh!” Ernestine put her fingers to her lips. “I knew you

wouldn’t have been doing what you were doing in the parlor like that. His lordship has been so very correct in all other respects—it seemed so odd.”

“It was odd,” Stacie said. “It was an accident, but then Lady Hernshaw and Mrs. Meethe saw us, well, grappling like that, and there was nothing Frederick could do other than declare we’d become engaged.”

Mary, Felicia, and Sylvia looked puzzled.

“What exactly happened?” Mary asked. “All we heard was that Ernestine, Lady Hernshaw, Mrs. Meethe, and several other ladies walked into the parlor and surprised you and Frederick in an embrace consequent on you having accepted his suit.”

Stacie arched her brows. “How very restrained of them all. The truth was rather more gossipworthy. As you know”—she tipped her head at Mary—“I went in search of Frederick to convince him to rejoin the guests. He was in the parlor, biding his time, I assume until everyone left. He wasn’t terribly thrilled at the notion of coming back out, but then something I said struck the right note, and he came to his feet—I believe to return to the fray with me. Only I was standing too close, and I stepped back too quickly and caught my heel in my hem. I started to fall, but he caught me, but that put him off balance, and both of us fell—thanks to his efforts, we landed on the chaise, with me on top of him.”