Across the room, Simon’s eyes met Portia’s. James excused himself and went to talk to his father. After pausing to greet Lady Hammond, a friend of her mother’s, Portia joined Simon and Charlie, Annabelle and Cecily.

The girls were a breath of fresh air; they were innocents, yet entirely at home in this sphere and determined to be the life-or lives-of the party. Portia had known them for years; they greeted her with typical joy.

“Splendid! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“Oh, it’ll be wonderful-I’m sure we’ll have such fun!”

Wide eyes, bright smiles-it was impossible not to respond in kind. After the usual inquiries about families and acquaintances, the talk focused on the expected pleasures of the coming days and the amenities afforded by the Hall and its neighborhood.

“The gardens are extensive, with lots of walks. I read that in a guidebook,” Annabelle confessed.

“Oh, and there’s a lake-the book said it was not man-made but filled by a natural spring and quite deep.” Cecily grimaced. “Too deep for punting. Imagine!”

“Well,” Charlie put in, “you wouldn’t want to risk falling in. Deuced cold-I can vouch for it.”

“Good heavens!” Annabelle turned to Charlie. “Did you? Fall in, I mean?”

Portia caught the glance Charlie sent Simon, and the answering quirk of Simon’s lips; she judged it more likely Charlie had been thrown in.

Movement across the room caught her eye; Kitty entered and paused, surveying the company. Henry detached himself from a group and crossed to her side. He spoke to her quietly, head lowered, clearly a private word.

Kitty stiffened; her head rose. She threw Henry a look of dismissive affront, then replied very shortly, gave him her shoulder, and, with an expression perilously close to a truculent pout, all but flounced off to speak with Ambrose and Drusilla Calvin.