With the exception of that unhelpful insight, Beth thoroughly enjoyed her morning chatting with Greer. The younger girl wasn't loud or overbearing, but she was also far from shy and retiring. An excellent balance for a new friend. A new friend Beth would be seeing within the next hour at the ball. The Thorne ball.
Her stomach flipped nervously.
Pressing a gloved hand to her abdomen, Beth assessed her reflection and tried to ignore the significance of the party she was preparing for. Her gown was a shade shy of crimson, with tight sleeves that sat just off the shoulder yet met at the centre of her chest for suitably conservative decolletage. Her gloves, like the ribbon that was laced through her hair, were white. Beth's eyebrow quirked slightly, almost impressed with herself. Almost.
There was a knock at the door, and her lady's maid popped her head in to warn her that the carriages had been readied and that 'Lord Matthew' was already threatening to leave her behind.
Beth scowled. "I'd like to see him try!" she grumbled under her breath, gathering the front of her skirt in both hands and moving towards the door. She tried her best not to stomp.
Despite her growls, she did move quickly, not wanting to make anyone wait too long. She descended the stairs as quickly as she could without stepping on a hem. Just before the last step she glanced up, hoping to see their carriage still waiting on the front drive, but instead she came face to face with John.
She squeaked and lost her balance on the step, reaching out to brace herself on the nearest object, which just happened to be John himself. With one hand he gripped the crutch, keeping them both upright, and with the other he caught her around the waist. When all stood still, they were pressed chest to chest, the tips of Beth's slippers just grazing the step as they both breathed heavily.
Beth hadn't noticed before, but John's eyes were a lovely shade of grey-green. The swelling and bruising had long faded, leaving just a healing cut across his brow and a few spots of red throughout the whites of his eye. For a moment he teetered closer.
Then, gently but abruptly, Beth was lowered to the floor. She let out another gasp of surprise, but John kept a hand on her upper arm so that she didn't tip over.
"I'm so sorry I was..."
John cut her off with a shake of his head. "Please, the mistake was mine. I was... distracted." His eyes flicked away from her face for the briefest of moments, taking the whole of her in from head to toe. He swallowed heavily.
Beth felt her cheeks redden, and she looked anywhere but his face. Which presented her with the opportunity to be surprised by his clothing.
"Oh!" she gasped, her hand absently drifted up to the fabric at his sleeve. His coat was a rusty colour, set over a matching vest and a white shirt with fewer ruffles than was currently fashionable.
He glanced down at himself as well. "Your brothers were kind enough to lend me something to wear."
Glancing down at her own sleeve, Beth noted with a frown that their wardrobes clashed this evening. Not that it mattered of course.
"It looks very well on you," she said quickly to distract herself.
She didn't see his cheeks colour slightly. He cleared his throat. "You look-"
He was interrupted by a groan from the door, and both their heads whipped around to look at Matthew. John leaned away from Beth, though he kept his hand on her arm just in case.
Her brother was leaning dramatically against the door frame. "Please, I beg you both, may we leave?"
Beth shook her head at him, but drew back from John to pull up her skirts. "Why are you so anxious to be there on time?" she asked.
With a characteristic twinkle in his eye, Matt pushed himself upright and rubbed his hands together. "Because tonight there's intrigue!"
.
The Thorne estate was actually several hours by carriage from the Humphrey's home, but that was not the site of the evening's gathering. Thomas had told them that his father had recently purchased a 'southern estate' in the area and had decided to host the evening there. Invitations had been issued to all families of wealth in the area – theirs had just been hand delivered.
Even as she descended from the carriage, Beth still wondered that none of her brothers knew the Thorne name. "And you've never had any dealings with Duke Thorne?"
Simon offered her his arm as he shook his head. "Not that I can recall. But from what I've gathered, most of their money comes from textiles and manufacturing. You recall that Thomas said his father rebuilt the family fortune?" Beth nodded. "Well, as you can imagine, we don't tend to involve ourselves in those... industries."
His sister swallowed the lump in her throat. She still missed their parents dearly.
There was a muffled yelp behind them, followed by a soft apology, and the pair turned to see Matthew stumble out of the carriage.
"Watch where you're waving that stick, old man!" he snapped, straightening his tails.
Bart and Vincent appeared from the side, having ridden in the same transport as Simon, and both ignored their younger brother in favour of offering John their shoulders. His broad form emerged from the doorway, crutch first, and he accepted Bart's offer with a smile of thanks, alighting from the carriage with relatively little difficulty.
Beth cast a quick look around at all the men, pleased with how they cleaned up. Each was formally, yet modestly, attired, fitting the fashions without being too up to date. She was careful not to allow her gaze to linger on John for too long.
Thankfully, there was a loud clap to her left. "Well, don't you all look swell!"
Thomas emerged from the shadows to smirk at them. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, coat slung across one shoulder, with his cravat untied and held in place by his stiff collar. He was the picture of casual indifference.
Matt gave a huff of laughter. "Are you leaving already? That doesn't bode well."
The man shook his head, and then raked his dark curls back out of his face. "On the contrary; I haven't dared venture inside yet,"
"Is it that boring without us here to liven things up?"
Thomas' smile was taut. "Something like that." Out of the corner of her eye Beth saw Vincent shuffle in place, tilting his head to the side. Perhaps he saw something in Thomas's expression that she hadn't. When she looked back, his expression had cleared. "Shall we?"
He took a step towards the house.
"Um," Beth raised a hand to stop him. "Perhaps you should re-dress first."
He glanced down at himself, almost surprised, and then grinned at her. "Ah, as ever, you're right Lady Elizabeth." He began by slipping his coat on. "I'll follow along in a moment."
The Humphreys all nodded and moved towards the house, Beth on Simon's arm and her other brothers straggling behind. Bart was at the rear, walking slowly beside John. Beth glanced back at the top of the stairs to see the injured man frowning, in concentration, pain, or concern she couldn't tell.
The footman at the doorway accepted their invitation from Simon, and passed them along to another footman to be escorted into the grand foyer. And indeed, it was very grand. Beth had been blessed with the opportunity to be in many fine ballrooms in many fine houses throughout her years, but never had she seen such lavish decorations. The bannisters were strung with wreaths of dark leaves and flowers painted gold, connected by streams of the same coloured ribbon.
As they passed beneath an archway into the ballroom, Beth had to stifle a gasp. The space was opulent, to say the least, with an enormous chandelier suspended above the crowd. The walls were papered in a shimmering gold, and the furniture, from the tables bearing pastries and punches to the armchairs cradling observant matrons, was all built of a deep mahogany.
Simon squeezed her arm, alerting her to the gentlemen approaching them, and Beth's mouth snapped closed. Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and she fought to fix a smile in place.
"Good evening." There was no doubt that the older man who spoke was Thomas' father. His hair was cropped shorter and was greying at the temples, and he was fractionally taller, but those differences aside they could have been twins. The man beside him was younger and taller, but bore the same dark hair, eyes and skin; Thomas' brother. "Please allow me to welcome you. I am Edward Thorne, Duke of Thorne, and this is my son, Henry."
The men bowed, and Beth dropped into a curtsey.
"Thank you for your invitation, Duke Thorne. I am Simon Humphrey, Duke of Germaine, and this is my sister Elizabeth Humphrey."
Beth bobbed her head again, but didn't speak as the introductions continued.
"Please allow me to introduce my brothers as well." He gestured at them one by one. "Bartholomew, Earl of Hurst, Vincent, and Matthew."
Beth noted wryly to herself that they were a rather intimidating group to meet all at once; regardless of their titles or intimidating physiques, there were just so many names!
Duke Thorne appeared unperturbed though. He smiled at them one by one, gaze quickly scanning each of them from head to toe. The smile was clearly far from genuine – Beth could excuse that; surely everyone got tired of greeting guests at a ball – but what made her uncomfortable was the glint in his eye. It was almost... calculating.
She fought the urge to turn and find John.
"Ah, father, I see you've met my new friends." Thomas suddenly appeared by their side, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes as he adjusted his cuff. "Charming, aren't they?"
With all three men standing side by side, the resemblance was even more clear; there was next to no chance that the same blood that flowed through these three was present in John.
Duke Thorne's lip twitched almost imperceptibly as he turned to his second son. "I had not realised you were acquainted with them. How-" Again, the pause was so slight that Beth almost missed it. "-nice."
Thomas ignored his father, holding out an arm to gesture to the back of the group. "And have you met their particular friend John?"
The Humphrey men parted instantly, opening a path directly to the man in question. John didn't appear surprised though, and he hobbled forward swiftly, ready with a slight bow. "How do you do, Duke Thorne."
As if all his movements had been reduced to increments, Thomas's father dipped his head a fraction. He seemed oblivious to the stares of the Humphrey brothers, who all analysed his face for signs of recognition. Beth instead looked at John.
He seemed to stand taller, despite the crutch, and he held the Duke's iron gaze with one of his own.
"And who is this particular friend? I do not recall issuing an invitation." All semblance of politeness had left his tone. Beth actually stepped away before she could help herself. Behind her, Bart put a firm hand on her arm to comfort. Or perhaps to keep her in place.
It was Simon who responded. "I'm afraid we are at fault there, Lord Thorne. John is staying with us at the moment and we thought one more guest would not be too much of an imposition on your hospitality." For Simon, that was almost rude.
The man's face forced itself into a polite smile. "Of course." His gaze, which had assessed John from head to toe, flicked to Thomas. "Does your friend have more of a name than John?"
Thomas's smile stretched wider. "It's funny you should ask – he doesn't at the moment. Just. John." He leant in. "He's not familiar to you?"
This time the Duke's lip did curl. "I prefer not to acquaint myself with your friends." This was hissed under his breath at Thomas; though they all heard it, the rest of the party remained oblivious to the tension.
Only Bart's hand kept Beth in place.
The first to move was Matthew. He stepped up closer to Thomas, draping one hand across the man's shoulder and extending the other to the Duke. He deliberately let the wrist go limp; a very uninviting handshake. "Perhaps I can be the first."
The Duke bristled visibly, stepping away from the outstretched limb with a grunt of disgust. "A word, Thomas." He practically spat, turning away from them. He walked away forcefully, but was the picture of decorum, nodding to guests as he went. In his absence, Thomas let out a huff of laughter.
"Well..." He turned back to them all with his brows raised. When his gaze darted to Matt though, he frowned.
Beth's youngest brother pulled away from him quickly. "I apologise if I overstepped, I just..."
"No, no." Thomas waved him off, looking more... confused, than offended. "I was... I mean to say, thank you. It's been a long time since someone..." The man, looking more like a sad, confused, surprised boy, shrugged. "Thank you."
Rolling his shoulders, Thomas shook off whatever the emotion was. He winked at them. "Well, I suppose I had best go and be scolded. I'll find you all later to let you know if he lets anything slip."
He strolled off in the direction his father had disappeared, leaving the Humphreys and John standing awkwardly in the doorway.
After a long moment, Matthewsighed. "Bugger! Is that the end of the intrigue?"