Edith scanned the crowd disinterestedly.
If she left the party too early, she'd surely hear about her bad attitude from her mother tomorrow. Never mind that Sybil hadn't put in an appearance at all.
She saw Mary, dancing with the same slick adonis who'd earlier introduced himself as a Turkish diplomat. Mary hadn't seemed to care that he looked and sounded as Turkish as Carson.
"Ms Crawley?"
She stared up at the very tall man suddenly blocking her view. His sandy hair was thinning, showing off a wide forehead and the brightest blue eyes she'd ever seen.
"Anthony Strallan," he introduced himself.
"Yes?"
Even though he wore an expensively cut suit, he looked terribly out of place at the trendy party.
"You obviously never got my email."
"Which address did you send it to?"
He flipped open his phone. "MCrawley -"
"Oh. You're looking for Mary."
"You're-"
"Edith, Mary's sister."
"Well, perhaps I could still-"
"No."
He shuffled from foot to foot, uncomfortable.
"Sorry. That's my sister," she said, pointing out Mary in the crowd.
Now came the part where he would ask her a million questions about Mary-what she liked, where she went. Men always noticed Mary. Even if she wasn't a corporate high-flyer being groomed for the CEO's position of Grantham House, they'd notice her.
Mary was still busy with her shiny new thing though.
"Anna, her PA, is here somewhere if you'd like to arrange-"
"No," he interrupted her this time.
"No?"
"I think I'd like to hear more about what you do at Grantham House."
She hesitated.
"Please," he added quietly.
He was old enough to be the Turkish hunk's father. She supposed talking to him was better than standing alone, however.
"I'm the HR Manager," she started, noticing he really did have the nicest eyes.