Miss Compton pursed her lips. Swishing her skirts, she resumed her original position. The seamstresses crawled quickly to keep up. “Do you sing, Miss Flite?”

“I don’t possess that gift, no.” Effie sat down on a tufted pink velvet chair beside Miss Whitbread’s sofa. “I prefer athletic endeavors.”

“Riding?” Miss Whitbread asked.

“Target practice,” Effie said, taking a sip of her drink.

She was only half in jest. The Academy had focused little effort on equestrienne activities. Horses were exceedingly expensive. Whereas archery, knife-throwing, and fencing required only the use of non-sentient implements that could be shared by all.

“The gentlemen sometimes enjoy target-shooting at Rawdon Court,” Miss Compton said. “We ladies never participate. It is unbecoming to be always competing.”

Effie refrained from pointing out that they were surely competing now. “How do you occupy your time instead?”

“With music and flower arranging,” Miss Compton replied. “Rawdon is at its most beautiful in the spring.”

“This house is quite lovely, too,” Effie said. “I’m given to understand it has an extensive library.”

“Does it?” Miss Whitbread asked with a dubious expression. “I never noticed.”

“My father has a complete set of thirteenth-century books.” Miss Compton adjusted the fluttering lace trimming on her neckline. “He collects old texts. It is his prevailing passion.”

“I should like to see them, given the opportunity. Perhaps after dinner?” Effie raised her glass to her lips with studied casualness. “Unless it would disturb Lord Compton’s work.”

“Why should it?” Miss Compton asked.

“I recall he was conducting charitable business there during the ball last week,” Effie said. It had been something to do with Gabriel. Lord Compton had mentioned it when Effie had been introduced to him. “I daresay there are many such demands on his time.”

Miss Compton brushed the concern aside. “Papa never conducts important business in his library. That’s only where he receives the begging public. Clergymen, social reformers, and the like, who come to plead for his aid. It’s his study where he deals with affairs of true consequence.”

Effie gave her an alert look.

“But not tonight,” Miss Compton went on. “Mama has absolutely forbidden him from slipping away from the party since I will be singing.”

Effie mentally abandoned her plans to investigate the desk in the library. The monstrous piece of furniture could wait for another day. Tonight, she would search Lord Compton’s study instead. Wherever that was.

“If you wish to see the library, I will show it to you when the ladies retire after dinner,” Miss Compton offered with the grandiosity of a medieval princess bestowing her largesse on a ragged serf. “But we cannot linger. I must have time to prepare for my solo.”

“Thank you,” Effie said. “I shall look forward to it.”