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“And if she did need one, then perhaps I would be better placed to offer my services.” Mr. Taylor appeared as if conjured by magic, broad-shouldered and tall, his face somehow full of patronizing warmth as he looked down his nose at James. “Miss Reeve is my dear cousin and I owe her all the support and guidance in the world.”

Arabella supposed she should feel gratitude to anyone who delivered a set-down to James, but all she felt was annoyance. What was Mr. Taylor doing here?

Whisking Caroline away for a dance, apparently. In no time, she was on his arm and he was leading her to the floor, talking to her in earnest.

James sniffed. “Your bosom friend would be better off with me, you know.”

Unwillingly, she leaned in. “Why? What news do you have of Mr. Taylor?”

He shrugged. “What news does anyone need when one can tell everything by the cut of his coat and the style of his hair? Anyone with that low of a collar in such high society is not to be trusted.”

“Sartorial displeasure does not replace news.”

“You know, if you had more looks or fortune, the two of us could have rubbed along quite well together,” he said thoughtfully, grinning at her. “You have more spirit than one might give you credit for at first.”

Arabella grimaced. “No, we would not have. I remember your poor behavior over the years all too well.”

She was surprised that the words came to her so easily tonight. How many years had she wished for the courage to snap back at him when he was being awful to her? This suitressing business was working wonders for her.

He laughed. “Boyish high spirits, nothing more, Miss Seton. Though I confess, Caroline’s peerless beauty is what has captured my heart. Imagine a match with my fortune and her pretty face. Compelling, is it not?” He winked and left.

Arabella lost herself in thought, watching Caroline spinning around the room with Mr. Taylor.

Maeve touched her arm. “You are pining,” she pronounced.

Arabella was startled. “I beg your pardon! I am doing no such thing.”

“Are you not? Your eyes tell a different story. Has no one ever told you that it is unwise to wear one’s heart on one’s sleeve? It makes it rather difficult to hide one’s inclinations in such a situation.”

She forced herself to laugh. “Is it no wonder that I should look at the dancing with such longing—me, who hasn’t been asked a single time all night?”

“Ah, so you are pining over no one in particular, is that so?”

“Exactly so.” It was a bold-faced lie.

“I thought you weren’t interested in marrying?”

“A dance is no declaration of matrimony. And you told me that you also have no interest in men, yet I saw you twirling as merrily as anyone else earlier.”

“Very true.” She smiled. “I apologize, I did not mean to pry. Forgive me, Arabella, I am too accustomed to speaking my mind.” She paused. “Please know that you are always welcome to do the same with me. I am a true friend to any who share our persuasions, and I am an excellent confidante.”

Arabella’s gaze sharpened as the man who had tried to dance with Caroline earlier was now escorting her onto the terrace. “Thank you, but I must go,” she said to Maeve, and then pushed her way toward the terrace in unfashionable haste.

Once outside, she spotted them easily. Lord Hanbury had cornered Caroline against the balustrade, speaking to her with far too many gesticulations. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she leaned away from him.

Arabella rapped her fan on his shoulder and he sprang away from Caroline.

“I say, what is the meaning of this! Oh, Miss Seton again, is it?”

“Yes.” Lord Hanbury was a middle-aged man who frequented Inverley every summer and who purchased a painting every year for his mother, and she liked him apart from his current predilection for the woman that she wanted to become her lover. “You have my dear friend’s attention, but I am afraid I have need of her, my lord.”

“I was explaining to Miss Reeve all the charms of my estate in Suffolk. A great many sheep, you know—important to explain the provenance of such a noble creature—very possible that Miss Reeve might have a particularly vested interested now, you see—”

“Unfortunately, all I see is that I have rent my hem, and I need dear Miss Reeve to come to my aid. Please do let us be off to the retiring room.”

She grabbed Caroline’s hand, and they rushed away up the narrow stairs. Caroline burst out laughing as they entered the empty retiring room. “That was well done of you, Bell. You came to my rescue yet again.”

Pride swarmed over her. She had done it. Maybe it wasn’t so hard after all to be confident. “I took our pact in the tea shop seriously. I intend to honor it.”