Resigned to her fate, Millicent said, “Lord and Lady Heathecoute will be my chaperones and make introductions for me. I am to slowly walk around the room and listen to conversations and make mental notes of all I hear. I will accept if a gentleman asks me for a dance, but I am not to show interest or give encouragement for another dance or an afternoon call.”
“Good. Now, what are the names of the people who are of special interest?”
“The notable young ladies are Miss Bardwell, Miss Donaldson, and Miss Pennington. The widows are Lady Hatfield and Countess Falkland.”
Aunt Beatrice tried to smile again, but her swollen chin and cut lip made it impossible. “Perfect. You are a quick learner. I knew I did the right thing in sending for you. I should have done it two days ago. Now, who are the Terrible Threesome?”
“Chandler Prestwick, the earl of Dunraven; Andrew Terwillger, the earl of Dugdale; and John Wickenham-Thickenham-Fines, the earl of Chatwin. They have been inseparable friends since Oxford.”
“Splendid. The ton simply thrives on anything about those three bachelors. There are many others, of course, but none more popular with Society. So unusual, too. All three of the gentlemen lost their fathers and became earls at a young age. Perhaps that is why they are such delicious rogues and easy targets for gossip.” Her lids drooped. “I do hope Emery hurries. My medicine is making me sleepy, and I must introduce you.”
“Would you like me to fluff your pillows?” Millicent started to reach for the pillows, but Hamlet’s head shot up in warning and she stopped.
“No, dearie. I find that no movement is best. Oh, and remember, anything you hear about the Mad Ton Thief is noteworthy. The ton and all of London are simply in a passion wanting news and information about that criminal. The thief robbed Lord Dunraven’s house two nights ago.” She made an attempt at a smile. “I’m sure that put his lordship in a dither. You must try to find out something about that so we can mention it again in the column. I do hope Emery returns soon with—Oh, here they are.”
Hamlet stood on his short, feathered legs and barked as Millicent watched the viscount and viscountess enter the room.
“Don’t make such a fuss, Hamlet,” her aunt cooed to the little dog. “Be polite. You’re acting like you’ve never seen the viscount and his lady before.” Hamlet trotted up to Beatrice’s uninjured side. She patted his head affectionately and he curled down beside her.
Lord and Lady Heathecoute walked directly to the foot of Lady Beatrice’s bed, but no closer, and greeted her warmly. Obviously, they knew of Hamlet’s protectiveness of his mistress.
The viscount was tall and lanky, but superbly dressed. His graying tufts of hair were thin and cut fashionably short. He held his chin at such an elevated level and his neckcloth was tied so high, Millicent was certain his back must be in a continuous strain.
She was surprised to find his wife was as tall as the viscount. Few women could boast such a height or such a girth. The viscountess was more than a little plump. Her rounded face was flat but pretty and attractively framed by a row of tight dark curls. She wore a green high-waisted gown that hid most of her bulk and was becoming on her large frame.
“May I present Viscount Heathecoute.”
Millicent curtsied when the viscount turned to her. “It’s my pleasure, Lord Heathecoute.”
“Delighted to meet you,” he said as stiffly as he carried himself.
“And Lady Heathecoute, who has been a dear friend these past few months,” Beatrice said.
Millicent curtsied again. “How do you do, ma’am?”
“Splendid, my dear. Very splendid.” Her voice was loud and throaty. Her widespread brown eyes looked Millicent over carefully. “I think the gown you have chosen for this evening is good for you, the touch of embroidery around the hem sends just the right touch of elegance. Not too elaborate to gain attention, but certainly adequate so that you won’t be out of place among the ton.” She looked back to Lady Beatrice. “She will be perfect for you.”
“I’m glad you approve, and I’m indebted to you for watching after her for me.”
Lady Heathecoute looked over at her husband and said, “We will take very good care of her, won’t we, my lord?”
“Indeed, we shall.” The viscount lowered his narrow light green eyes to look at Beatrice when he spoke to her, but his head remained erect. He seemed