But hopefully they could steal time in a corner.

The moment her grandfather walked over to join one of his friends, Yasmin was surrounded by a flock of suitors.

“A new style,” the Honorable Algernon Dunlap said, trying to look knowledgeable about women’s fashion. Despite his mother’s fierce disapproval, he continued to trail after Yasmin, rattling off ill-conceived compliments. “The collar flatters your swanlike neck.”

Lord Hulsey elbowed him to the side. “Lady Yasmin, may I have the first waltz?” He didn’t notice her gown.

Yasmin smiled and held out her dance card, which was pounced on by two gentlemen and ended up losing its little attached pencil.

“They’re all talking about her,” Lydia hissed at Giles sometime later.

“Who?” Giles asked. Usually he would have spent some time inconspicuously watching his fiancée, but this evening he was focused on saving his sister’s betrothal. Lord Pettigrew was slow to anger, but after being forced to notice Lydia’s discourteousness to Yasmin, he had become visibly guarded.

Giles was grimly determined to make sure the wedding went through, because not only would a broken engagement be crushing for his sister, but in the event that it was cancelled, she and Yasmin would have to live together.

By dint of carefully steering Lydia away from dangerous topics of conversation, Giles felt the breach was almost healed. His sister wasn’t a terrible person. She was impulsive and quick-tempered, but she had a genuine affection for Lord Pettigrew. Perhaps even more important for the success of that particular marriage, she loved dogs. Several days in the country, spending virtually all their time in the stables with the new puppies, had gone a long way toward settling Lord Pettigrew’s nerves.

“You know who,” Lydia said crossly. “Lady Yasmin, of course. Did you see what she’s wearing?”

“I wasn’t aware she had arrived.”

Lydia gave him a sharp look. “She’s mocking all of us. Wearing the most absurd gown. Her sleeves resemble bulbous purple caterpillars.”

The wallflower wardrobe was making its debut, apparently. “How can that reflect on you?” Giles inquired.

“No one wears sleeves in this weather! We dress to entice,” Lydia said with the long-suffering sigh of a younger sister. “The truth is that Lady Yasmin could wear a grain sack, and men would all ask her to dance before any of us.”

“You have made an excellent match,” he pointed out. “You have no need for other admirers, Lydia.”

“It’s just the principle of the thing,” Lydia grumbled.

“The principle of what?” Lord Pettigrew said, appearing at their shoulders.

“I was saying that Lady Yasmin put on that wretched purple gown in order to make fun of the rest of us,” Lydia said. She put a hand on her fiancé’s arm. “I am so glad that you have never succumbed to her charms, Lord Pettigrew. I cannot bear the fact her grandfather thrust her upon us, with all her bedraggled charms.”

Her fiancé’s brows puckered. “I say, Lydia, that seems quite harsh. As I told you, my mother thinks quite well of Lady Yasmin. Did you know that she—”