Tangled Reins. Stephanie Laurens
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been exposed to such gentlemen before. Intrigued, she had folded her hands in her lap and calmly stated, ‘My dear, if you have visions of becoming an ape-leader, I fear you’ll be disappointed.’
The green eyes had lifted to hers in genuine surprise. ‘Whatever do you mean, ma’am? I know I’m too old for the marriage mart and I hardly have the requisite looks for an acknowledged beauty. But I don’t repine, I assure you.’
She had snorted her disbelief. ‘You’re two and twenty, girl—hardly at your last prayers! And if you think to be left on the shelf, well! All I can say is, you’ve another think coming.’
But her stubborn granddaughter had only smiled.
Now, as she saw the small but growing knot of young men around her elder granddaughter, a grin of unholy amusement lit her faded blue eyes. How long would it take for Dorothea to wake up and realise that she was likely to be pursued, if anything, with even more dedication than the vivacious Cecily?
The next morning brought the first of the invitations to the larger gatherings. Initially these arrived in a trickle, but by the end of the week, as Lady Merion’s granddaughters became more widely known, the gilt-edged cards left at Merion House assumed the proportions of a flood. As Dorothea and Cecily were only too glad to share the limelight with their less well-endowed sisters, even the most jealous mother saw little reason to exclude them from her guest lists. Moreover, if the Darent sisters were to attend some rival party then half the eligible males would likely be there too.
Lady Merion insisted that they attend as many of the smaller parties held in these first weeks as possible. She was too experienced to discount the considerable advantage social confidence could give. So Dorothea and Cecily obediently promenaded every afternoon and were to be found at a soirée or party or musical evening every night, polishing their social skills and attracting no little interest. Within a short time, both had collected a circle of ardent admirers. While this was no more than her ladyship had expected, the band around Dorothea gave her endless amusement. In general not much older than Dorothea herself, these lovesick swains were continually vying one with the other for their goddess’s attention, striking Byronesque poses at every turn. It was really too funny for words. Still, thought the very experienced Lady Merion, it was serving its turn. Dorothea was being bored witless, all her social ingenuity being required to keep her temper with her artless lovers. A very good thing indeed if her wilful granddaughter could be brought to an appreciative, not to say receptive, frame of mind before being exposed to the infinitely more subtle persuasions of Hazelmere and his set. Luckily these highly eligible but far more dangerous gentlemen were rarely if ever sighted at the preliminary gatherings.
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