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and the soft encouragement she provided as they greeted their guests. She was just the sort of sponsor the girl needed.

As Gage and I had arrived late, we were caught at the tail end of the receiving line, which afforded me the opportunity to observe our hosts. A cousin to the late Lady Drummond, Lady Edmonstone had been abroad with her husband when she died. But upon their return—from somewhere tropical, it appeared, from the looks of their bronzed skin—she had immediately sized up the situation and taken Imogen under her wing. Imogen had spoken highly enough of her assumed aunt, but this was the first chance I’d had to meet her.

Whatever Lady Edmonstone’s other talents might be, she had been astute enough to recognize that the fashion for pure white in debutantes’ debut gowns would never do for Imogen with her long wheat blond hair and pale coloring. The petite girl would have been washed out. Instead, she wore a ball dress of white gaze d’Inde finely painted in soft strips of color and worn over a pale pink satin slip. This enabled her to still appear chaste and demure, but not wan and sickly. Her hair was dressed high on her head in three full bows with a bandeau of large pearls draped over her forehead to match her diamond and pearl earrings, necklace, and bracelet.

Her ensemble put my gown of jonquil-colored aerophane crepe edged with sapphire blue satin entirely to shame, but that was as it should be at a lady’s debut ball. As should the sparkle of happiness and excitement that glistened in her eyes. When she caught sight of me and Gage in the receiving line, I was touched by the added radiance she seemed to bestow upon us in her smile. Having only ever seen her wide, dark eyes filled with sadness, I was slightly dazzled, and I could imagine many of the young gentlemen in attendance felt the same.

“Lady Darby,” Lady Edmonstone proclaimed warmly as she clasped my hand. “I’m so pleased you could join us.” She cast a fond glance toward her charge. “As I know is Imogen. Especially with you being so close to your confinement.”

“We’re delighted to be here. You look absolutely lovely, Miss Drummond.” My smile dimmed as I fought back a wave of sadness. “Your stepmother would have been so proud.”

“Thank you, my lady,” she replied. A look of silent commiseration passed between us, both a giving and taking of comfort, and an acknowledgment of the woman we would always miss.

Lady Edmonstone pressed the hand she clasped, drawing my attention. “I must thank you also. For everything you did for Clare. For not allowing her murderer to escape justice.” She studied my features, and I scrutinized her in return, noticing she possessed the same watery blue eyes, the same high cheekbones as her cousin. But she surprised me with her next words. “She wrote to me, you know. About you painting her portrait. About your kindness. About her admiration for you.”

I blinked back at her, mildly stunned, and uncertain how to form my response.

Fortunately, Lady Edmonstone didn’t require one. “I’m glad she had a friend like you with her at the end.” Her voice hardened. “Because, heaven knows, Drummond can’t be relied on.” Her gaze darted to Imogen and back. “But we shall not dwell on such unhappy things tonight. However, I will assure you that Eddy and I will be keeping a watchful eye over Imogen’s future. Won’t we?” she called to her husband, who stood on the other side of Imogen.

“What’s that, my dear?” Lord Edmonstone replied, his voice wobbling with two decades of age beyond his wife.

But she had already moved on, making me suspect Lady Edmonstone controlled a great deal of what went on within their household. “I’ll not have my niece married off to some lecher with deep pockets simply to please Drummond.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” I said.

“I knew you would be.” Her gaze shifted to my husband in consideration, releasing my hand and taking his. “A sturdy, honorable man like Mr. Gage, or my husband.” Her gaze flicked toward Lord Edmonstone negligibly before returning to Gage with a smile. “Yes, that’s the way to go. Even a younger son with his own means would be preferable to a man of no character. Perhaps someone like Lord Henry.” She turned to her niece, though I barely noted her next words, too distracted by the former. “I saw the way you flushed under his attention.”

I hadn’t been able to hide my reaction completely, though it seemed Gage was the only one to notice, almost certainly having felt the jolt that had traveled through my muscles. “Lord Henry Kerr?” I tried to ask as casually as possible.

“Yes. Do you know him?” Lady Edmonstone’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, but of course you do. You and Mr. Gage helped to resolve that predicament at his father’s estate some months past.”

That “predicament” had been a murder committed by Lord Henry’s own brother, but that was the least of my concerns at the moment.

“Yes, I shall have to ask after his family and how they have been getting on,” I said, sliding down the line to greet Lord Edmonstone.

“You’re thinking of how awkward it is that Lord Henry was practically Lady Drummond’s lover, and now Lady Edmonstone is considering making a match of him and Lady Drummond’s stepdaughter at her debut,” Gage leaned down to murmur as we climbed the wide marble staircase leading to the ballroom. The immense chamber was ablaze with the light of three enormous chandeliers.

That was part of my discomfort, undoubtedly, though not all. But I wasn’t going to admit that to Gage.

I turned to scan the crowd dressed in their finest silks and crispest evening attire as we entered the room. “A ball which Lord Drummond is undoubtedly attending, though he was absent from the receiving line.” I worried my lip for a moment between my teeth before adding, “I suspect I should also

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