Lady Priscilla smiled. It was a small, polite smile that did not quite reach her cool, blue eyes.
"It has been a while," Priscilla continued, her gaze sweeping over Ines's gold dress with a quick, assessing look.
Ines swallowed. She felt, suddenly, very short, and very clumsy.
"Lady Priscilla," Ines said, forcing herself to curtsy. "Welcome to our home."
"Thank you," Priscilla said. She stepped closer, entering Ines's personal space. She smelled of lilies. Cold, white lilies.
"I must say," Priscilla said, opening her fan with a sharp snap. "I was surprised to receive an invitation. I heard you do not enjoy... company."
Ines gripped her own hands together. "My brother... he enjoys entertaining."
"Ah, yes. The Duke." Priscilla glanced toward the center of the room, where Rowan and Carcel stood. Her eyes lingered, unmistakably, on Carcel.
She turned back to Ines, a strange, knowing glint in her eyes.
