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the auction at Rundell’s was quite a to-do, wasn’t it? Were those divine pearls part of the collection?” Rosie said brightly.
    Touching the lustrous strand around her neck, Gabby gave a glum nod. “You should see the sapphire necklace. It was owned by a comtesse of something or another, and I feel like an utter imposter wearing it. But the jewels are the least of it. Father’s had an amphitheatre built to showcase the entertainment. He’s hired The Great Nicoletti to perform magic tricks, and there’s a troupe coming from Astley’s—”
    “Astley’s?” Violet’s mind had drifted off during the jewelry discussion, but now she bolted upright. “As in the Astley’s Amphitheatre?”
    “The one and only. Madame Monique and others will be performing.”
    “ Gadzooks, ” Violet breathed.
    Excitement blazed through her. She adored Astley’s—and Monique Le Magnifique, the famed French acrobat, was her ultimate idol. “That’s smashing news! I cannot wait to meet Madame Monique. Do you think she’ll share the secrets behind how to stand on a moving horse or how to balance on a tightrope—”
    “Have a seat, dear,” Marianne said mildly, “and let Gabby finish.”
    Violet hadn’t realized that she’d risen. She sat again, her heart thumping. Meeting Madame Monique in the flesh. Absolutely brilliant! Through the years, she’d practiced countless moves inspired by the acrobat; she wondered if the diva would mind giving her some tips.
    “… Father wants me to be a success ever so much, but the fact is I’m just a wallflower,” Gabby was saying. “What if nobody deigns to come to my party?”
    Understanding suddenly perforated Violet’s delight. Gabby’s father was a banker whose fortune came from clients who were, well, a bit unsavory. In fact, while the Kents adored Gabby, they were not fans of Mr. Billings, whom they’d first met during the course of a murder investigation. With his wealth, Billings could purchase his daughter’s entrée into the upper echelons, but acceptance was another matter altogether.
    The banker’s background and lack of blue blood made him and his daughter parvenus in the eyes of the ton , who treated them with barely disguised scorn. In fact, some cruel wit had saddled Gabby with the title of “Paper Princess” due to her papa’s trade in banknotes. Like Violet, Gabby knew what it was like to be an outsider.
    Vi summoned a teasing grin for her friend. “What are we —chestnuts? We Kents will be there in full regalia to support you. Even Thea and Tremont will be coming, although they’ll arrive a bit late.”
    Thea, the second eldest Kent sister, had recently married the Marquess of Tremont. Given the adventures that had brought the pair together, they’d opted to spend their honeymoon rusticating at Tremont’s country seat.
    “We wouldn’t miss your fete for the world,” Rosie chimed in. “We adore parties.”
    “Society is agog to see what has been done to Traverstoke since the Earl of Woldier sold it to your father,” Marianne said. “I predict you’ll be bursting at the seams with houseguests, albeit curious ones.”
    “I don’t care if they’re curious—only that they come . I’m so grateful to all of you. I’m terribly afraid of disappointing Father: he wants so badly for me to make a splash.”
    “Be careful what you wish for.” Eyes sparkling with mischief, Rosie said, “Or haven’t you heard about the most recent splash in Society?”
    Violet’s stomach plummeted. Crumbs. Not this again.
    “You mean Viscount Carlisle?” Gabby said, an odd note in her voice.
    Rosie’s golden ringlets bobbed as she nodded, giggling.
    “It’s not funny. It isn’t Christian to laugh at another’s misfortune,” Vi blurted.
    All eyes turned to her.
    Em blinked. “Well, I suppose that’s true. But usually you’re the first one to laugh at the ridiculous, Violet.”
    “Carlisle’s not ridiculous. He just slipped and fell…” Violet’s face