When Ivy returned home later in the afternoon, her body was still buzzing with the excitement of having spent time with Mr Hemsworth. Sam. She liked his name. She liked a lot about him. And it wasn't only because he was the only eligible bachelor to visit Tilbury lately.

They had walked around the village after the tea shop, and it had been one of the most pleasant afternoons she'd had in a while. Sam was so easy to talk to, and she enjoyed his subtle sense of humour. Anticipation bubbled up inside her when she remembered he had asked her to save him a dance at the ball in a few days. Hopefully, he would still want to dance with her once he was set upon by all the single young ladies of Tilbury.

"Ivy! Where have you been?" Her mother's sharp voice broke through her pondering, and she turned around to offer Mrs Edwards a bland smile. She hadn't told her family about Sam. It wasn't as if she could keep him secret forever, but for now, their friendship was something she wanted to keep to herself. A little something that was just hers. In a family of five siblings, that was a rare thing.

"Just out for a walk with Darcy," she said. It wasn't a complete lie, so she didn't feel too bad. A small fib. She just didn't mention that they hadn't walked alone. "You know how he gets when he has to stay indoors for too long."

Her mother let out a puff of air. "Yes, and he's not the only one."

With a giggle, Ivy walked over and placed a kiss on her mother's cheek. "Aren't you glad I let myself out as well, then?"

"I suppose." Her mother chuckled. "Won't you join us in the parlour? Your sisters and brother are all home. Even your father is free. It's a rare treat to have you all together outside of mealtimes, and I refuse to give these rare times up. Ash even said he will read us all some of that godawful poetry he enjoys so much."

"Byron is quite popular," Ivy pointed out as her mother ushered her towards the parlour while Darcy skipped around them, excited about the commotion.

"Hmph. He is a bounder and had to leave England. Not sure he is someone your brother should look up to. Or anyone, for that matter."

"I think someone can enjoy a man's—or woman's—poetry without condoning their life choices."

Her mother didn't seem interested in debating the topic, so Ivy stopped arguing and resigned herself to spending some time listening to Byron's poetry. While she might defend anyone's right to enjoy what they wanted to, she wasn't a great fan herself.

A moment later, they reached the parlour. It wasn't a huge room, but large enough for their family to fit comfortably despite their number—and despite her mother's propensity for adding embroidered cushions to every available seating area. Mr Edwards sat before the unlit fireplace in his favourite comfortable armchair. His thinning blond hair was a spark of light in a sea of otherwise dark heads.

Her brother and sisters were all copies of their mother. Tall and slender, with thick, dark-brown hair and brown eyes. Ivy liked to imagine them as copies of an original painting, where each copy strayed just a little further from the original source material.

Ash, as the oldest and only male, shared their mother's colouring and Roman nose, but other than that, looked more like their father with a reasonably handsome face. Her older sisters, Marigold and Rose, were both almost identical paintings of their mother, only younger. People who did not know them often assumed they were twins, they were so alike.

Then there was Ivy, who had inherited everything from their father's side of the family. Shorter and curvier than her siblings, she had Mr Edwards's blonde hair and even a few unfashionable freckles, courtesy of her many hours spent outdoors with Darcy.

Her youngest sister, Lily, waved at her from across the room, where she sat on a peony-patterned settee. With a grateful smile, Ivy hurried to sit next to her. Lily was the final painted copy and by now the artist had grown a little lazy. Her face was a little softer in its lines, her nose a little smaller. Still clearly another version of their mother, but a slightly fainter resemblance.

Lily leaned a little closer to Ivy and whispered, "Fair warning. It's Byron again."

"When is it not?" Ivy muttered, earning a giggle from Lily and a glare from her mother. Clearing her throat, she said, a little louder, "I just mean that it would be nice with some change. Maybe we could try some Chaucer? Or, even better, let's all enjoy Pride and Prejudice."

"It's your brother's turn to choose," her mother reminded her. "You all have to take turns."

"And you choose the same book every time." Marigold's nose wrinkled in distaste. The two older sisters sat on another settee, standing at an angle from the one Ivy and Lily occupied. Both pieces of furniture faced the fireplace, where Ash stood with his elbow resting on the mantelpiece and a book sitting in his hand. "You even named your dog Mister Darcy."

Darcy's ears perked up at the mention of his name.

"That's not entirely true." Ivy leaned down to stroke Darcy. When there was no more mention of treats or anything else interesting, he relaxed and lay his head back down on his front paws. "I choose other books, too. Just... Mostly my favourite one."

Ash shifted over by the fireplace and cleared his throat. "Are you done arguing or can I read now?"

"I don't know..." Ivy grinned as she leaned back on the settee. "I think I could continue the argument for a while longer."

Her brother lifted a dark eyebrow. "You don't hear me complaining when I have to hear about Mister Darcy or listen to one of those dreadful gothic novels."

"One might construe snoring as a complaint," Lily piped up, and Ivy shot her a grateful smile. Her youngest sister always had her back. Out of all of their siblings, Lily was probably the one she got along with best.

Ash groaned. "At this rate, it will be suppertime before I can read. We wouldn't even be starting this late if Ivy hadn't decided to go gallivanting across the village with that man all afternoon!"

Five sets of brown eyes turned to Ivy and she could feel her cheeks heat under the scrutiny. Even her father's pale blue eyes regarded her with mild interest. He was usually too busy or too tired to pay attention. Not that he didn't love his children dearly, he just spent a lot of his time dealing with the running of their small estate.

"A man?" Her mother's hand lifted dramatically to her throat. "Who? There are so few about. Please tell me you are not involved with one of the farmers' boys!"

"No," Ash said, sounding rather pleased at having shocked the family. "This was someone from out of town. I don't know who he is, but not from around here. The man I spoke to mentioned that he's visiting the Newtons."

Both Marigold and Rose narrowed their eyes at Ivy. "Are you trying to keep an eligible bachelor all to yourself?"

She lifted her hands in the air in defence. "No." Maybe.

It wasn't that she didn't want them to meet Mr Hemsworth. She just wanted a little more time when she had his full attention. With four beautiful sisters, it was rare to get much consideration. In a village with more young women than men, any single man who set foot in the village was immediately set upon by hopeful ladies. And until now, Ivy had automatically taken a step back, as she had not been particularly interested in finding a match.

"So who is he?" Rose asked, leaning forward slightly in her seat, mirrored almost immediately by Marigold.

Reluctantly, Ivy told them about Sam, but conveniently left out the exact details of how they had met. When she said he would be at the Ravenscroft ball in a few days, her sisters smiled with excitement at the prospect of a new potential match. At one-and-twenty and three-and-twenty, they were both desperate to marry and start their own families. Had their father been more inclined to become a proper country gentleman, he might have tried to make better connections to facilitate such a thing. However, Mr Edwards was, and always would be, a man who loved to stay busy with work—in his past that had been as a solicitor, and now he busied himself with the running of the estate.

Before purchasing Orchard Cottage—or had her father inherited it? Ivy was not entirely clear on the specifics—her parents and older siblings had resided in London. Part of her wished they had remained there rather than relocate when she was born, but she could appreciate the freedom that life in the country afforded her. While she liked the idea of a busy city like London, she suspected she would miss the ability to take her dog and walk over the fields and in the forests for hours on end.

"And he's coming to the Ravenscroft ball?" Her mother looked not unlike a cat that had caught an especially juicy mouse. With four unwed daughters, she probably needed any available single man more than anyone else in the village.

"He is," Ivy confirmed, even as she sighed inwardly. So much for having Mr Hemsworth's attention to herself for just a little longer. She could never compete with her sisters, nor would she truly want to. She just wanted... Something.

"Oh, that reminds me." Lily shifted on the seat next to her, catching her attention—and the attention of everyone else in the room. "I spoke to Miss Alice Burton earlier today, and she told me Lord Ravenscroft has invited a few of his friends from London. Lady Ravenscroft wants to sponsor her season next year, and this will be a great opportunity for her to meet a few of the gentlemen of the ton."

Their mother let out a gasp. "Oh, heavens! Gentlemen from London! Girls, you must be on your best behaviour at this ball. Imagine if you could make such a wonderful match!"

Ivy wasn't sure how she felt about the prospect of a bunch of strangers from London attending the ball. Lord Ravenscroft was as pleasant as a person could be, but what would other members of the beau monde be like? Would they look down on the country bumpkins that Ravenscroft allowed to attend his event? She hoped not.

"It's a good thing we already had new dresses made for the event." Rose ran her hands over the skirts of her pale yellow dress as if already imagining herself in her new ballgown. "I wouldn't mind finding myself a husband at this ball."

"This is a great opportunity," their mother agreed. "Lord Ravenscroft is a good man. How kind of him to invite more men when he knows there are so few in Tilbury."

Looking down at her hands in her lap, Ivy thought it might be less that Ravenscroft wanted to help the single ladies of the village, and more that he might want some moral support in the face of so many women all vying for his attention. Divide and conquer.

At least it might mean a little less attention for Mr Hemsworth if there were other men attending. She might get that dance after all.

"What are you smiling about?" Lily asked under her breath so the others would not hear. They had all launched into a discussion about their dresses and planned hair-dos for the ball, while their father looked as if he might fall asleep in his comfortable chair.

With burning cheeks, Ivy shook her head. "It's nothing," she mumbled.

"Does it have anything to do with this Mr Hemsworth fellow?" Lily nudged her gently, a small smile playing on her lips. "Do you fancy him?"

Ivy scoffed. "No. I don't know him that well yet."

"I don't think you need to know someone to fancy them." Lily shrugged. "As long as they are pleasing to look at and can carry a conversation, that would be enough in my eyes. Anything deeper would come later."

If those were the only qualifications, she supposed she did fancy Sam. He was certainly pleasing to look at, and his mere presence made her body hum in response.

"But what do I know?" Lily continued. "I spend more time reading than actually conversing with any gentleman."

"Don't we all?" Ivy giggled. It took her another moment to realise the room had fallen silent and everyone was looking at her. What had she missed?

"Ivy," her mother said in a tone that indicated this was not the first time she said her name. "Since we are entertaining tomorrow evening, do you think that Mr Hemsworth might join? The Newtons are coming, so perhaps they will bring him."

Oh, she had completely forgotten about that. With the impending ball and everything else that had happened the last couple of days, the standing monthly invitation to the local families they socialised with most had been the last thing on her mind.

"I... I don't know," she said. "I suppose he might."

"Excellent!" Her mother clapped her hands, making Darcy jump up, thinking someone had called for him.

Ivy wasn't so sure it was excellent. Sam Hemsworth might take one look at her sisters and decide that he much preferred one of them to her. It hardly mattered in the end, since he would meet them all at the ball in a few days' time, anyway.

The loud noise of Ash slamming his poetry book down on the mantelpiece made her jump.

"Since there is obviously to be no poetry reading today, I will take my leave," he muttered. "I am dining with Ravenscroft and his friends from London tonight, so do not expect me for supper."

Marigold narrowed her eyes at him. "Wait! You already knew that Lord Ravenscroft was inviting more men to the ball, and you didn't tell us?"

"I knew," Ash admitted unapologetically. "But I also knew the moment I mentioned it, this would happen." He threw an arm out, his upper lip curling in disgust. "The lot of you discussing dresses and flowers and all manner of dreadfully boring things. No, thank you."

"You're just grumpy because you know you will be on display tomorrow," Marigold huffed.

It was no secret that their mother was equally hoping to secure a wife for her son. Her matchmaking was equal in that sense. She had hoped for years that a connection might happen between Ash and Olivia, but now that there were other young ladies present, she was all too happy to shove her son in front of all.

This summer Tilbury was seeing an unprecedented influx of both single men and women. A hopeful matchmaker like her mother couldn't wish for a better chance of finding suitable spouses for her children. And for once, Ivy didn't hate the idea of being made to socialise with eligible bachelors. The memory of Sam's half-smile as he glanced at her across the table at the tea shop made her stomach do an awkward flip. She was even quite looking forward to it.

~~~~~~