of her own darling daughter,” her husband responded with a wry smile.
She looked at him sweetly and patted his cheek, oblivious to the scar that crossed his face. “You may be right.” Turning to Nivea, she explained, “I was a bit of a wild child growing up, always outside running and riding. It drove Mama crazy. Now, my two are no better.”
Thomas took her hand and squeezed. “But she loves you all, and so do I.” Despite social convention, he kept his hand wrapped around hers as they stood there.
They were a handsome couple. Both had rich chestnut hair, piercing eyes, and an athletic grace that Nivea envied. They fit in well with the Horsham family. Abby loved horses and Thomas had been friends with William since they were schoolboys. The couple had met the year Thomas had resigned from his regiment to assume his title as Earl of Devonshire, and they quickly had become inseparable.
Well used to their displays of affection, Nivea returned to her conversation with Caroline. “So, who else is here, Caro?”
“Almost everyone. Nicholas’s family and friends are here, including Lord and Lady Wilshire.” She made a face. “It’s not him I mind so much, but his wife is awful. Then there’s Briar and Joseph, William and Betsy, of course. Betsy looks quite marvelous considering she just had a babe.”
“I’m sure the joy of having the first son in a generation has made things much easier for her.”
“Yes, her da’ could never accept that he had four daughters and her ma never forgave her for being a bluestocking. Until now, that is.”
They all smiled, except for Thomas who obviously wasn’t paying any attention.
“If you don’t mind, luv, I am going to go join the men so you and your friends can talk.” Thomas gave his wife a squeeze and headed off.
“I hope Nicholas still looks at me like that after we get married,” said Caroline wistfully.
“I just hope I can get someone to look at me that way ever ,” mourned Nivea.
Abby hugged her. “Don’t worry, your time will come. Someday a fine, young gentleman will be smart enough to see your amazing qualities.”
Nivea sighed, not at all certain. Considering no one had noticed in her first five seasons, there was no reason to believe anyone would appear now.
Feeling a little uncomfortable with the conversation, she excused herself to greet her brother. William was standing near the window with his friend, Lord Duxbury. In the past, Joseph had favored the brightest of outfits, but since he had settled down with Thomas’s sister Briar, he had developed a more sedate appearance. Tonight, he was attired all in gray, but as she approached, an enormous ruby pin sparkled in his cravat. It appeared he was not completely reformed.
The two men could not have looked more different. As always, her brother appeared as though he’d just rolled out of bed. His grey houndstooth jacket was patched and baggy, his brown hair loosened from his queue, and his boots hadn’t seen a brush in over a fortnight. Nivea loved him, but was amazed how cavalier he was about fashion. How easy it was to be a man.
She returned his hug as he greeted her. “Nivvy, welcome home! I trust you survived the trip from London all right. Lord Landis was no doubt a perfect gentleman?”
He did not notice the flash of pain his teasing caused. Nivea knew she was virtually the only woman Dare would treat respectfully, and that wasn’t a compliment.
She was tempted to snap a retort, when a male voice behind her responded, “Yes Horsham, your sister was in good hands. We had a bit of an adventure, but arrived intact.”
As he joined the circle, Dare took a pinch of snuff from his jeweled box, his attention fixed on his male cohorts.
Would it kill him to acknowledge her? If she had been any other woman, he would have cast a sly glance at her, perhaps brushed a hand over her arm, letting her know he’d enjoyed the time with her. But no, he found her invisible.
Oblivious to her
Eliza March, Elizabeth Marchat