Alistair’s silk formal jacket over the de rigueur knee breeches was almost the same shade of blue as her gown. At Winter’s inquiring gaze, Alistair chuckled. “Aunt Helen mentioned you were in blue tonight.” “At least this gown is simpler than that heavy court dress I wore to my official court presentation.” Winter grimaced as she recalled the previous day with the long wait, the elaborate gown worn with hoops and the suffocating rooms of the official court. “I am glad that’s over.” Alistair’s lips twisted. “It’s on to Almack’s tonight, where only the crème de la crème are allowed.” “Now stop discouraging Winter, Alistair,” the duchess scolded. “You well know getting vouchers for Almack’s is not easy.” “The famed marriage mart.” Alistair rolled his eyes as Winter stifled a giggle. His aunt frowned at her nephew. “It is an honor.”
