A faint blush rose into Emily’s cheeks. “Mr. Boch escorted me to this ball merely as an act of charity. He is a very kind man.”

Sophie twinkled at Gabby. “What do you think? Could kindness explain why the sweetest-tongued man in all London suddenly began stammering at the mere sight of Mrs. Ewing’s smile?”

“Of course, I am not well-acquainted with Mr. Boch,” Gabby replied mischievously, “but he struck me as eminently logical before this evening….I wonder what could have turned him into such a noodlehead, if not your smile, Mrs. Ewing?”

Emily’s blush deepened. “Truly, Mr. Boch is simply a good friend. There is naught more to his escort than pure kindness.”

Gabby took pity on her. “How is Phoebe today, Mrs. Ewing?” She turned to Sophie. “Mrs. Ewing’s niece and I traveled from India on the same vessel.”

“Phoebe is most amusing,” Emily replied hurriedly, obviously grateful for the change of subject. “She has developed a veritable passion for cooking—” She stopped, remembering that a properly raised child would have nothing to do with the kitchens.

But Sophie’s face was alight with interest. “How old is your Phoebe? My very favorite place to be, as a child, was in the kitchens. I prided myself that Cook was unable to make jam without my skills as a tester.”

Gabby laughed. “I know exactly what you mean! Our cook was kind enough to make me the primary household authority on custard tartlets. I absolutely loved to spoon in the filling.”

Emily almost gaped. She herself had never been allowed anywhere near the kitchens. In fact, it was a rare day when she and Louise were allowed to leave the nursery at all. “I thought perhaps I should dissuade Phoebe,” she admitted. “Cooking is not a very ladylike activity, after all.”

“I suppose it is different when one actually has children,” Sophie said thoughtfully, “but I often promised myself as a child that I would not encourage too many of those ladylike but useless activities.”

Gabby nodded. “I had a succession of governesses as a young child, and some of them had the most arcane ideas of what a lady should do with her time!”

Just then Lady Sylvia bustled up. “Gentlemen have deserted you, have they? Thought I’d go sit with all the old biddies, Gabrielle. After all, yer escorted by two married ladies. Just look lively, gel. You don’t want anyone to think you’re napping.”

“No, of course not, Lady Sylvia,” Gabby murmured.

As Lady Sylvia trotted away, Sophie met Gabby’s eyes in perfect agreement. “All very well for her to say,” Sophie complained. “She had a nice nap at the side of the room, didn’t she?”

The gentlemen returned, plates in hand. And five minutes later, Quill walked up. To Gabby’s great pleasure, it was clear that he and Sophie’s husband, Patrick Foakes, were the best of friends.