Chapter Twenty-Six
Cobb Townhouse, 14 March 1871
“Mama, if you’re here, let me see you,” Louisa whispered. She stood beside Claire on the grand staircase leading down into the ballroom and welcomed guests. They came in small groups as carriages emptied, and Louisa didn’t miss the appraising glances from the young men—and their mothers. All of them looked at Louisa and Claire with curiosity, comparing the two of them. Louisa could almost hear their thoughts as the same sequence of expressions flickered over each face—Why are these two on the market now, not even having a season? Not that it matters—they both have family fortunes. Which look would I like my grandchildren to have, Miss Cobb’s dusky beauty or Miss McPhee’s golden looks? That one’s too smart, though, and she’s been to an asyl
