A Wallflower Christmas (Wallflowers #5)(23)

“Is it really ten ladies dancing?” Lillian asked him, and Swift grinned.

“My lady, I’ve never been able to remember any part of that song.”

“You know,” Annabelle said contemplatively, “I’ve always understood why the swans are swimming and the geese are a-laying. But why in heaven’s name are the lords a-leaping?”

“They’re chasing after the ladies,” Swift said reasonably.

“Actually I believe the song was referring to Morris dancers, who used to entertain between courses at long medieval feasts,” Daisy informed them.

“And it was a leaping sort of dance?” Lillian asked, intrigued.

“Yes, with longswords, after the manner of primitive fertility rites.”

“A well-read woman is a dangerous creature,” Swift commented with a grin, leaning down to press his lips against Daisy’s dark hair.

Pleased by his obvious affection toward her sister, Lillian said feelingly, “Thank heaven you’re here, Matthew. Father’s been an absolute tyrant, and you’re the only one who can calm him down. He and Rafe are at loggerheads, as usual. And from the way they glare at each other, I’m surprised they don’t both burst into flames.”

Swift frowned. “I’m going to talk to your father about this ridiculous matchmaking business.”

“It does seem to be turning into an annual event,” Daisy said. “After putting the two of us together last year, now he wants to force Rafe to marry someone. What does Mother say about it?”

“Very little,” Lillian replied. “It’s difficult to speak when one is salivating excessively. Mother would love above all else to have an aristocratic daughter-in-law to show off.”

“What do we think of Lady Natalie?” Daisy asked.

“She’s a very nice girl,” Lillian said. “You’ll like her, Daisy. But I could cheerfully murder Father for making marriage a condition of Rafe’s involvement in Bowman’s.”

“He shouldn’t have to marry anyone,” Swift commented, a frown working across his brow. “We need someone to establish the new manufactoriesand I don’t know of anyone other than your brother who understands the business well enough to accomplish it. The devil knows I can’t do itI’ve got my hands full with Bristol.”

“Yes, well, Father’s made marrying Lady Natalie a non-negotiable requirement,” Lillian said with a scowl. “Mostly because Father lives for the chance to make any of his children do something they don’t want to do, the interfering old”

“If he’ll listen to anyone,” Daisy interrupted, “it’s Matthew.”

“I’ll go look for him now,” Matthew said. “I haven’t yet seen him.” He smiled at the group of former wallflowers and added only half in jest, “I worry about leaving the four of you together. You’re not planning any mad schemes, are you?”

“Of course not!” Daisy gave him a little push toward the ballroom entrance. “I promise we’ll be perfectly sedate. Go and find Father, and if he has burst into flames, please put him out quickly.”

“Of course.” But before he left, Matthew drew his wife aside and whispered, “Why do they have holes in their dresses?”

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation,” she whispered back, and pressed a fleeting kiss on his jaw.

Returning to the others, Daisy hugged Evie and Annabelle. “I’ve brought loads of gifts for everyone,” she said. “Bristol is a marvelous place for shopping. But it was rather difficult to find presents for the husbands. They all seem to have everything a man could want.”

“Including wonderful wives,” Annabelle said, smiling.

“Does Mr. Hunt have a toothpick case?” Daisy asked her. “I bought an engraved silver one for him. But if he already happens to own one, I do have alternate presents.”

“I don’t think he does,” Annabelle said. “I’ll ask him when he arrives.”

“He didn’t come down with you?”

Annabelle’s smile turned wistful. “No, and I hate being parted from him. But the demand for locomotive production has become so great, Mr. Hunt is always buried in work. He is interviewing people to help carry the load, but in the meantime …” She sighed and shrugged helplessly. “I expect he’ll come after the week’s end, if he can free himself.”

“What of St. Vincent?” Daisy asked Evie. “Is he here yet?”

Evie shook her head, the light sliding over her red hair and striking ruby glints. “His father is ill, and St. Vincent thought it necessary to visit him. Although the duke’s doctors said his condition wasn’t serious, at his age one never knows. St. Vincent plans to stay with him at least three or four days, and then come directly to Hampshire.” Although she tried to sound matter-of-fact, there was a shadow of melancholy in her voice. Of all the former wallflowers and their mates, Evie’s connection with St. Vincent had been the least likely, and the most difficult to fathom. They were not publicly demonstrative, but one had the sense that their private life was intimate beyond ordinary measures.

“Oh, who needs husbands?” Annabelle said brightly, sliding an arm around Evie’s shoulders. “Clearly we have more than enough to keep us very busy until they arrive.”