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wine. Lady Anne, the late countess’s timid sister, was seated opposite Ellie. At the other end of the linen-draped table presided the earl’s mother, the stout Countess of Pennington, grandmother to Ellie and her cousins.
    “Why, my dear Beatrice,” the countess said, her brown eyes like sunken currants in a massively wrinkled face. “I can’t imagine what you should find lacking. Your father has spared no expense on your behalf. There shall be hothouse roses, the finest chef, the very best champagne.”
    Beatrice dipped her chin in girlish modesty. “I’m ever so grateful, Grandmamma. But all debutantes have roses and champagne. Don’t you see? I will be nothing special. How am I to become the triumph of the season if I don’t stand out in the crowd?”
    Walt elevated his wine goblet in a salute to his sister. “Perhaps we could arrange for you to be transported into the ballroom on a gilded throne, Bea. That would certainly stir the gossips.”
    Beatrice screwed up her nose at him. “Oh, do be serious. You’re only jealous because Papa never hosted a party in your honor.”
    “Gentlemen needn’t be paraded like horses for sale at Tattersall’s. Rather, we are the ones who choose which mare we wish to purchase.”
    “How dare you compare me to a horse! Papa, tell Walt not to be so rude.”
    Chewing a mouthful of meat, Lord Pennington directed a low rumble of disapproval at his son.
    The countess tapped her fork on her plate. “Enough! It is unseemly for the two of you to squabble like children. And do sit up straight, Walter.” As he sullenly obeyed, she went on in a crisp tone, “Now, Beatrice, perhaps you should tell us exactly what it is you have in mind for the ball.”
    “I wonder if we might adopt an exotic theme, Grandmamma. I was thinking of decorating the ballroom with an Egyptian motif.”
    “Egyptian!” Ellie blurted out. Recalling the reclusive Duke of Aylwin with his scholarly study of Egyptian artifacts, she had a sudden suspicion of her cousin’s purpose.
    Beatrice slid a sly glance at Ellie. “Yes, you know, palm trees and pyramids and the like. I shall have to do a bit of research on the topic and see what I can find out.”
    “You, conduct research?” Walt scoffed as he signaled the footman to pour another round of burgundy. “I doubt you could even find your way to the lending library.”
    “Actually, I intend to interview an authority, someone who can offer suggestions as to the décor,” Beatrice said archly. “Perhaps there is a scholar at the British Museum. I’m sure Ellie can escort me there.”
    Ellie suspected the museum wasn’t her cousin’s true destination. Beatrice was intending to use this latest scheme as an excuse to brazen her way into the Duke of Aylwin’s house. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for you to question a stranger,” Ellie said. “I shall procure a book on ancient Egypt and you may draw your inspiration from it.”
    “Oh, no!” Beatrice said quickly. “I should rather speak to a real person than bury my nose in dusty old pages.”
    “I must overrule you in this matter, my dear,” their grandmother said. “For once, Eloise is correct. A young lady ought not associate with unknown characters. Do tell her to consult the book, Basil.”
    The earl gave a crisp nod. “I’m sure she’ll be good enough to mind your wishes, Mother.” He glanced at Beatrice with her pouty lower lip, and his ruddy face softened. “Now, don’t mope, sweetcakes. If it makes you happy, I shall allow you the funds to decorate the ballroom in whatever manner suits you. Even if it is this Egyptian claptrap.”
    “Thank you, Papa.” Beatrice gave him a sunny smile, but the look she flashed at Ellie held a hint of spite. She dabbed her mouth with a white linen serviette. “By the by, speaking of associating with unknowns, Ellie and I paid a visit to Lady Milford today.”
    The perky announcement cast a pall of surprise over the dining table. The earl tossed down