Scales and Sensibility by Stephanie Burgis

Chapter 16

Elinor had no time to contemplate her failure. Running feet sounded in the corridor outside—servants hurrying to answer an unexpected summons. A moment later, Elinor heard the unmistakable sound of Hathergill Hall’s front doors opening and closing again.

Loud, jovial voices emanated from the front hall.

“We’re hideously early—”

“Never mind, never mind!” That was Sir John’s booming voice. “Delighted to see you, young man. Come in. And Miss Armitage, charming, charming…do you need to retire to your rooms, or d’you want to come straight in for tea?”

A woman’s rich, melodic voice said something Elinor couldn’t quite catch, even though everyone in the sitting room had gone still and silent to listen.

Sir John’s laughter was easy to hear. “A lady after my own heart!”

Oh, dear,Elinor thought.

“Come in, come in!” Sir John’s voice came closer. “I believe my daughter is just in here…”

Penelope jumped a full foot away from Benedict on the couch and set the hatpin down on the table. Millie hurried back to the couch, her face alight with excitement. With a cool nod to Elinor, Lucinda sat back down, swishing her skirts into place and covering as much of their tea-stain as possible with her large, wet reticule. Elinor sank down onto her own seat, gathering Sir Jessamyn back onto her lap. She couldn’t help glancing at Mr. Hawkins, whose face was set in rueful lines.

The first of Sir John’s invited guests had arrived…and the first of Benedict’s serious rivals for Penelope’s attention.

The door opened, and noise and colour billowed into the room. Sir John and the gentleman beside him were both laughing over something that had just been said by the lady who stood between them, wearing a bright crimson traveling gown that perfectly matched the crimson and silver scales of the dragon on her shoulder. As they stepped into the room, Sir John cut off his own laughter and cleared his throat importantly.

“My dear,” he said to Penelope, “we have the unexpected pleasure of welcoming two of our guests already! Mr. Armitage, Miss Armitage, may I present my daughter Penelope, her friends Miss Staverton and Miss Grace, and our guest Mr. Hawkins? And…”

He puffed himself up, eyes gleaming with self-importance as he turned to Elinor. “Mrs. De Lacey,” he said, “may I present our guests to you? Mr. Armitage of Stanton Court, and his charming sister, Miss Armitage.”

“Delighted,” Elinor said politely, and inclined her head in a nod, while Sir Jessamyn, stiffening, watched the new dragon warily from her lap.

Miss Armitage’s dragon, as far as Elinor could tell, hadn’t even noticed Sir Jessamyn’s existence. He—or she—was sitting perfectly still on Miss Armitage’s shoulder, with golden eyes focused on Miss Armitage’s face and every line of his body positively shouting of attentiveness and obedience.

Clearly, Miss Armitage must be either a perfect goddess of dragon-training or an absolute ogre.

All that Elinor knew of either of the Armitages was what she had read in the past year’s society columns, in combination with what her uncle had told Penelope and Lady Hathergill three weeks ago over dinner. Put together, though, it was more than enough to give Benedict cause for concern. Mr. Armitage was an acquaintance Sir John had made at an important London dinner party, and he was known to be a young man of undisputed wealth, although he and his sister had only recently come to the attention of larger society.

He had recently purchased a very fine estate, and over the past several months, he had received regular mention in the society columns as “that well-favoured young man Mr. A— who is so highly regarded nowadays.” Even if Mr. Armitage had been the ugliest man in existence, Penelope would have found everything else about him attractive—and Mr. Armitage, Elinor had to admit, was anything but ugly.

Shining blonde hair, arranged in perfect waves around his head, made him the ideal counterpart to Penelope’s golden beauty. His broad shoulders showed to advantage in his perfectly-cut black coat as he bowed…and his warm brown eyes widened with surprise as he saw Elinor’s face.

“Mrs. De Lacey! Good heavens, I had no idea you would be here.”

“Ah…” Elinor blinked, rapidly reassessing the situation. Drat. Of course, if he was well-known in Society, he would know Mrs. De Lacey, wouldn’t he? She’d been so busy worrying about fooling her own family, she had completely forgotten that she would have to fool their fashionable guests as well. She moistened her lips, trying to think quickly. “I hadn’t planned to come originally, but—”

“It must have been a very sudden decision indeed. When I mentioned this house party to you at the Rothershams’ rout—that was only four nights ago, was it not?—I could have sworn—”

“Well,” Elinor said weakly, “you made it sound so charming. How could I possibly resist?”

He raised his eyebrows skeptically, but, to Elinor’s relief, did not pursue the matter. Instead, he turned to the woman beside him…and all of Elinor’s relief melted away as she heard his next words: “Of course you know my sister already, Mrs. De Lacey.”

“Of course,” Elinor repeated, and cursed inwardly. How well did Mrs. De Lacey know his sister? Were they on first-name terms? Would she be expected to know their family history?

“Oh, Gavin, I’d be astonished if she remembers me.” Miss Armitage’s deep curtsey was a model of grace, leaving the dragon on her shoulder perfectly composed and not even forced to shift by half an inch. “We’ve only met once, and at such a crush, I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t recognize me, Mrs. De Lacey.”

“But of course I do.” This time, Elinor’s smile was perfectly genuine. She could have kissed Miss Armitage in gratitude for saving her. With automatic courtesy, she began to hold out her hand—then caught herself and snatched it back as she remembered the illusion.

Miss Armitage’s dark brows rose in surprise, but she lowered her own hand in response. She was quite dissimilar to her brother in appearance but every bit as attractive, with hair so dark that it was nearly black, deep blue eyes, and a curvaceous figure. She couldn’t have been more than Elinor’s own age—perhaps four years her brother’s junior—but she turned to Penelope with all the ease and confidence of an established matron.

“Miss Hathergill, we do so regret descending upon you like this, a full two days early. I’m afraid your mother may never forgive us! But I’m afraid we were let down by our friends in Bath, who’d offered to host us along the way. Their child had caught scarlet fever, and as we could hardly intrude upon their house at such a time—”

“Oh, no!” Penelope said. “Only imagine if you caught it?”

“Quite,” said Miss Armitage, sitting down beside Lucinda. “Only imagine! And so I’m afraid we have landed much too early on your doorstep. I do feel terribly guilty about the inconvenience we are causing you.”

She smoothed down her skirts with perfect equanimity, and the dragon on her shoulder assumed a posture of perfect alertness, like an educational statue of Obedience. It was, Elinor thought, almost unnerving. She gave Sir Jessamyn an extra scratch behind his head, just in case he needed any reassurance.

“Nonsense!” said Sir John. “We’re delighted to have you, aren’t we, Penelope?”

“Oh, yes,” Penelope said. She gazed meltingly at Mr. Armitage from under her long eyelashes. “We were just about to order more tea—would you care for some?”

“I should like it beyond anything,” said Mr. Armitage, and dropped himself neatly into the foot-wide gap on the couch between Penelope and Mr. Hawkins, forcing Benedict to move aside. “Oh, those roads! Outside London, no one even seems to know how to build them anymore. At my own estate—sorry, old man, you don’t mind me sitting here, do you?”

“Of course not.” Benedict gave him an easy smile. “You’re clearly exhausted from travel. It takes many gentlemen that way.”

“Ah…” Mr. Armitage’s teeth flashed perfectly white in his smile. “I don’t think we’ve met, but I do know your name. Hawkins, wasn’t it? You aren’t the Hawkins of Kennington Park, by any chance?”

Benedict’s smile remained, but Elinor saw the sudden tension around his eyes. “I am. Have you visited my part of the country?”

“Oh, not for some time,” said Mr. Armitage. “But I met your father once or twice. A good fellow, wasn’t he?”

“That’s what my old friend Edmund Crawford says,” agreed Sir John. “He asked—”

“There was something I heard about him just last year, though.” Mr. Armitage’s brow creased in a thoughtful frown. “What was it? Oh, yes. The rumours I heard said that before his passing, he’d been drawn into a rather regrettable—”

“How was your journey, Miss Armitage?” Elinor asked hastily.

“Oh, well, if I can forget all the many miles of my brother’s complaints about the road…” Miss Armitage rolled her eyes but aimed a fond smile at her sibling. “He is on fire to make improvements to his own estate, you see, and the first thing he wants to put money into is the road that leads to it from London.”

“Well, we can’t have people claiming it’s too difficult to get there for a weekend, can we?” Mr. Armitage turned to appeal to Penelope. “What do you say, Miss Hathergill—isn’t the best use of a good country house to hold the most popular house parties imaginable?”

Penelope’s face glowed with delight. “Oh, I should so love to attend a house party! I have never been to one, you know. But then…” She aimed a reproachful look at her father. “I have never been to London, either, if you can believe it.”

“One more month, kitten,” said Sir John. “Then you’ll be able to enjoy your Season.”

“But we’ve had the good fortune of meeting you early!” Mr. Armitage gave her a smile that could only be described, Elinor thought, as intimate. Even from four feet away, it gave her a reluctant tingle of appreciation, especially as his voice deepened. “You wouldn’t deny us that opportunity, would you, Miss Hathergill?”

Penelope’s eyelashes fluttered; her face flushed lightly pink. “Oh, well, if you put it that way…”

“Do you two live in London for most of the year, then?” Millie asked breathlessly. “It must be such a wonderful place! The balls and the theater and the—”

“—And the routs, and the Venetian breakfasts, and the opera, and the masquerades…” Mr. Armitage laughed. “Oh, yes, London is beyond anything. Don’t you agree, Hawkins?” He tossed a careless glance at Benedict over his shoulder. “But come to think of it…I’ve never seen you there. Are you one of those fellows who prefers the tedium of the countryside?”

Benedict’s laugh sounded forced. “I wouldn’t put it quite that way.”

“Oh, no,” Miss Armitage agreed, with a warm smile. “The countryside can be delightful. On a beautiful day, with the lilacs flowering and the sun shining above—”

“On the one day of the year it isn’t raining, you mean.” Her brother rolled his eyes. “Give me a ballroom crowded with five hundred people and a thousand candles, with all the ladies’ diamonds glittering like stars. Wouldn’t you agree with me, Miss Hathergill?”

“Ohh…” Penelope’s face softened into a look of true yearning. “It sounds utterly perfect.”

“It is,” he said, and looked at her with an intensity impossible to mistake. “I cannot wait until you experience it yourself.”

Millie’s long, wistful sigh filled the room.

Miss Armitage smiled indulgently and turned to ask Sir John a series of polite questions about the history of Hathergill Hall.

Gazing into Mr. Armitage’s eyes, Penelope fluttered with delight.

Lucinda’s eyes narrowed with ill-concealed envy.

Sir John beamed proudly at his daughter and her newest suitor.

Elinor couldn’t stop herself from giving Benedict Hawkins a sympathetic look, despite everything that had passed between them that day.

He wouldn’t have an easy time of his pursuit, after all.