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But then, the true festivities of the season would begin in earnest next month in London. That was where she needed to make a more elaborate showing if she wanted to attract the best suitors.
That’s what she would have to do if she wanted Thomas to fall in love with her. She would have to show him what he was missing.
Tables draped in white linen stood under the shade of sprawling oaks, their surfaces graced with an array of delectable treats—delicate finger sandwiches, scones with clotted cream, and pastries that glistened under the soft sun. Ladies adorned in silk and lace fluttered from group to group, whispering secrets only the summer breeze could hear.
Tricia, clutching her fan, navigated through clusters of chatting women, each the center of her own small orbit. She overheard snippets of conversation—gossip about absent friends, the latest fashions from Paris, or the prospects of a suitable match—and she felt once again overwhelmed by the intricacies of high society.
At the far end of the lawn, the dowager countess presided over the festivities, her demeanor as regal as the pearls at her throat. The lady offered a gracious smile to each guest, her poise unfaltering, a beacon of the nobility’s charm and confidence.
Goodness. If she were to actually marry Thomas, these would be her duties, as the lady of the manor.
The thought made her corset feel even more constricting.
Finally, she spotted Sarah talking with two other young ladies. One of them she recognized, Lavinia, daughter of Baron and Baroness Pokingham. She didn’t know Lavinia personally, but the gossip was that she was not a nice person, that she would just as soon stab you in the back as look at you.
What on earth is Sarah doing with her? Tricia thought.
Tricia approached, looking around, but why was she looking? Was she hoping to catch a glimpse of Thomas? He certainly wouldn’t be at a ladies’ lawn party.
“Sarah,” Tricia said as she approached them.
“Oh, Tricia, there you are.” Sarah gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “Do you know these lovelies? This is the Honorable Lavinia Pokingham and Miss Clarissa Smythe.”
“Enchanting to meet you,” she said, doing her best to actually sound enchanted.
Lavina fluttered her fan over her bosom that was a bit lacking. “Oh, you are the beauty they say you are.”
Tricia’s cheeks burned. “I’m sure I don’t know who says that.”
“Goodness, everyone. Weren’t you the May Queen several years back in Bath?”
Now her cheeks burned even hotter. She was the May Queen before Cameron received his title. Perhaps the gossip about Lavinia was correct. She was not nice.
It was also not lost on her that it didn’t take Lavinia long to bring up Tricia’s lowborn status.
“Of course she was,” Sarah said, smiling at Tricia. “Lady Patricia Price-Adams is easily the most beautiful woman this season.”
Tricia forced a smile. “You’re too kind to me, Sarah, when you know yourself that your red hair is the talk of the season. Have you ever seen hair quite as beautiful as hers, ladies?”
Lavinia, who was quite pretty despite her nasty personality, simply looked away.
But the other woman, Miss Smythe, smiled. “Indeed. I was just telling Sarah how envious I am.” She frowned. “My hair is the bane of my existence.”
“Whyever do you say that?” Tricia asked. “It’s a lovely dark blond.”
“But my tresses aren’t nearly as thick as yours and Sarah’s. And Sarah, the color is just so unique.”
“Thank you so much for the compliment,” Sarah said. “But I fear it’s my complexion that is the bane of my existence. All these silly freckles, and I can’t stay out in the sun for more than about thirty seconds before my cheeks burn.”
“You’re both absolutely gorgeous,” Tricia said.
Lavinia was still looking away. But then she turned back. “Have you heard the latest gossip?”
Sarah and Clarissa both perked up at that.
Tricia did not smile.
She was sure she had been the subject of much of Lavinia’s gossip in the past, especially when Cameron first received his earldom, which elevated their family from mere tenants on the Lybrook estate to members of the peerage.
