“I find it difficult to distinguish between a violin and a viola,” Lady Danbury said. “Don’t you?”

“No,” Honoria replied, feeling a bit braver now that she was getting warmed up, “but that might be because I actually play the violin.”

Well, she thought as an addendum, “play” might be too ambitious a verb. But this she kept to herself.

Lady Danbury gave her cane a thump. “I didn’t recognize the gel at the piano.”

“That is Miss Wynter, the governess for the younger Pleinsworth girls. My cousin Sarah took ill and needed a replacement.” Honoria frowned. “I thought there was to be an announcement.”

“There may have been. I’m sure I wasn’t listening.”

It was on the tip of Honoria’s tongue to say that she hoped Lady Danbury hadn’t been listening to anything that night, but she swallowed the retort. She had a cheerful façade to maintain, and she fully blamed Marcus—and, to a lesser extent, Felicity Featherington—for making her so irritable.

“Who are you looking at?” Lady Danbury asked slyly.

Honoria was very quick to answer, “No one.”

“Then who are you looking for?”

Good heavens, the woman was like a barnacle. “Again, no one, ma’am,” Honoria said, she hoped sweetly.

“Hmmmph. He’s my nephew, you know.”

Honoria tried not to be alarmed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Chatteris. My great-great-nephew, if one must put a fine point on it, but all those greats do make one feel ancient.”

Honoria looked at Marcus, then back at Lady Danbury. “Mar—I mean, Lord Chatteris is your nephew?”

“Not that he visits as often as he should.”

“Well, he doesn’t like London,” Honoria murmured without thinking.

Lady Danbury let out a sly chuckle. “You know that, do you?”

Honoria hated that her cheeks were growing warm. “I have known him nearly all my life.”

“Yes, yes,” Lady Danbury said, rather dismissively, “so I’ve heard. I—” Something seemed to catch her attention, and then she leaned in with a terrifying look in her eye. “I’m going to do you a very big favor.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” Honoria said weakly, because surely nothing good could come of that expression on Lady Danbury’s face.

“Pfft. Leave it all to me. I have an excellent record with this sort of thing.” She paused. “Well, one for one, anyway, but I’m optimistic for the future.”

“What?” Honoria asked desperately.

Lady Danbury ignored her. “Mr. Bridgerton! Mr. Bridgerton!” she called enthusiastically. She waved her hand, but unfortunately that particular appendage was attached to her cane, and Honoria had to weave and bob to the right to avoid getting her ear lopped off.