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men’s conversation, Meg took the opportunity to study the gathering. Lord Vernon stood to the side nodding and smiling between the two groups while Lady Featherstone and Lady Vernon spoke together animatedly—Lady Vernon in her excited voice, and her friend in clipped tones that Meg decided was an indication of a more straightforward temperament.
    Once Meg was able to look past the shock of their dazzling blue eyes, she saw that the Poulter siblings were not at all alike.
    Lucinda was definitely the more confident of the sisters, while Helen appeared to be shy and timid. Perhaps it was because Lucinda was older, Meg thought. Both sisters were exceptionally beautiful, but where Lucinda’s high cheekbones and pointed chin were all sharp angles, Helen appeared much softer. Her cheeks were rounded and her expression more pleasant and approachable.
    The earl continued to look around the hall as if there were a foul odor that hovered just beneath his nose, which he was too polite to mention. His hair was fair like his other family members’, and Meg noticed that he continually stroked his thumb and finger across his upper lip. When she looked closer, she was able to see a thin layer of whiskers that must be the beginnings of a mustache.
    As she watched, Helen attempted to say something to her brother but was interrupted by Lucinda. Though she could not hear their words, she saw that the elder siblings conversed without allowing Helen to get a word in; even their body language seemed to shut her out.
    Meg felt a swell of pity for the young lady. She understood all too well how it was to be the youngest sister. She didn’t feel an overwhelming desire to get to know the rest of the family but thought she would like to become better acquainted with Helen.
    Supper was announced, and the group made their way into the dining hall.
    As they moved to the table, Meg overheard Lucinda speaking to Serena. “Will your brother be joining us this evening, Your Grace?”
    “No, I am sorry. His duties keep him quite busy at the moment.”
    Meg did not much appreciate the reminder of the prince and the arrogant way he had avoided them since their arrival. No doubt his “duties” consisted of eating and sleeping and believing himself superior to his sister’s guests.
    It was thanks to their hosts’ hospitality and attention to detail that the room was arranged so that a dinner party of eleven felt intimate and comfortable. Meg found herself seated between Lucinda Poulter and the earl. The Ladies Featherstone and Vernon sat on the other side of the table, chatting like young girls.
    Conversation flowed around Meg, and she listened, feeling completely out of her element as the company discussed the events that would take place during the Season. Although he did not speak to her, Meg felt Lord Featherstone’s eyes upon her more than once, and she concentrated on using the best possible manners as she ate.
    Lucinda leaned toward her. “Miss Margaret, Helen is so looking forward to her debut, and you must be as well.”
    Meg swallowed and dabbed her napkin against her lips before answering. “Please call me Meg.”
    Lord Featherstone harrumphed again, and this time she was certain her name was the reason for his displeasure. She chose not to acknowledge his reaction, instead thinking of the way Carlo had called her Margarita, making her feel as if her name were the most beautiful word he knew. The thought brought a smile to her lips.
    Meg looked up, meeting Lucinda’s overly polite gaze. Her raised brows and stretched smile weren’t fooling anyone. “Yes, I am quite looking forward to London and the Season. I am just now realizing how ill prepared I am.”
    Lucinda’s eyebrows drew together, and her bottom lip pouted out in a show of concern. “I’d imagine it is quite a shock traveling to someplace so civilized from the wilds of America.”
    Wilds of America indeed—Charleston is one of the largest cities in the United States with a