by Merry Farmer
“You know this woman, Henrietta?” Lady Tavistock’s other friend, a woman with clear, pale skin and sky-blue eyes asked. Pink splotched her cheeks, and Elaine had the sense that the woman had at least heard of her.
“Yes, we met the other day,” Lady Tavistock went on. “I find her to be quite original.”
Elaine still couldn’t determine whether Lady Tavistock was serious or poking fun at her, but she wasn’t deterred. “We met at my uncle’s house,” she said, glancing to the blonde lady, then to the haughty one. “Although I’ve recently discovered that my uncle doesn’t share my views on matters at all. It was quite an embarrassment discovering the truth.”
The haughty woman sniffed. “I’m sure that wasn’t the only embarrassment.”
“Maude, really,” Lady Tavistock scolded her friend in a whisper. Hope surged in Elaine’s chest. Maybe the woman did like her after all.
“We don’t know her,” Maude hissed, her nose tilted up. “And Claudia Denbigh said—”
Before she could share Lady Denbigh’s words, the blonde woman interrupted with, “She’s Lord Waltham’s new mistress.”
Elaine sent a look Lavinia’s way that was likely far too gloating, all things considered. But being identified by strangers as connected to Basil gave her a thrill that left her feeling foolishly proud.
But to Elaine’s surprise, Lady Tavistock and Maude glanced to the blonde with looks filled with wariness and concern.
“I’ll call Henderson over right away and have her escorted out of the park,” Maude said.
“Or we could give the two of you a moment of privacy,” Lady Tavistock said, brimming with sympathy.
Elaine lost her smile as a zip of alarm passed through her. She’d walked into something unexpected, and she had to tread carefully. “Is something wrong?”
“Cousin Lavinia,” Lady Tavistock said with a careful smile, reaching for Lavinia. “Why don’t you take a turn about the park with us.”
“Um, I….” Lavinia glanced to Elaine as if she didn’t know what to do.
Elaine sighed, then nodded to her friend. If there was something for her to face, she might as well get it over with. “Go ahead. I’m happy to make this new acquaintance.”
Lady Tavistock whisked Lavinia off far faster than Elaine would have liked. That left her standing with the mysterious blonde woman, who stared at her with intense curiosity.
“Surely one does not need a formal introduction at a time such as this,” Elaine said, no idea what the proper thing to do could be. “When the rights of all women are in such a delicate state. It is a time when we all must come together to support each other and those that have our best interests at heart, the Liberal Party. We—”
“Are you truly Lord Waltham’s mistress?” the woman asked, barely above a whisper.
There was surprisingly little derision or malice in the woman’s expression. Elaine suddenly had no idea what to say or how to approach the situation. “He has been my closest friend these last two years,” she answered, honestly, without revealing too much.
The woman broke into a smile that was full of fondness and regret. “Lord Waltham and I were once friends too.”
A chill shot down Elaine’s back. “Might I have the pleasure of your name?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“Royston,” the woman said. “Lady Elizabeth Royston.”
Twin bursts of embarrassment and jealousy swirled up in Elaine. Lady Royston was one of Basil’s former lovers. It didn’t take London sophistication to see that. Up until that point, Basil’s past loves had been abstract, stories he’d mentioned without dwelling on. But Lady Royston was flesh and blood, elegance and refinement. She was everything Elaine was not, and she clearly remembered Basil fondly.
“Oh.” It was the only thing that would come out of Elaine’s mouth all of a sudden. Heat flooded her face as she realized what she must look like to the dazzling Lady Royston.
“Is he…is he well?” Lady Royston asked, softer still. “Basil. Lord Waltham, I mean.”
Elaine swallowed, her face burning hotter. The sweet, caring smile of Lady Royston was a thousand times worse than seeing Basil’s face in Lady Creswell’s bosom. War broke out within her, jealousy on one side, pride on the other. Basil loved her. He’d said as much just days before in the most impassioned way possible. And yet, the emotion in Lady Royston’s eyes drove home the knowledge that Elaine was one of many women. A string of romantic embarrassments. She remembered his confession from just a few weeks ago all too well.
“I believe he was happier in Cumbria,” she managed to say at last, her voice weaker than she wanted it to be.
Lady Royston smiled wistfully and nodded. “He was never particularly happy when I knew him. He always wanted something else. I believe that’s why he reacted so fiercely when he heard I—” She stopped, her cheeks blazing red, lowering her head. “I felt so guilty when he disappeared after I told him I was marrying Robert.”
Elaine gasped before she could stop herself. “Are you Elizabeth Grey?” she whispered, her stomach twisting.
“I was,” Lady Royston nodded. She blinked. “Did Basil mention me?”
The hope in Lady Royston’s eyes made Elaine feel as though her lungs were being squeezed in a vise. When Basil had mentioned Miss Grey, she’d pictured a cold, haughty woman, like Maude or Lady Denbigh, who had tilted her nose up and marched away, not a kind, soft, beautiful woman who spoke with perfect refinement and clearly still carried some sort of affection for Basil. It hurt to look at Lady Royston, to imagine her and Basil together, intimately. Basil was hers…but not hers at all.
“He said he left London after being embarrassed by a woman he thought he was in love with,” Elaine managed to squeak out.
Lady Royston smiled, blinking her suddenly watery eyes. “No, he didn’t really love me,” she said quickly, placing a reassuring hand on Elaine’s arm. “Otherwise he would have—” She shook her head and swallowed. “I’m very happy with Lord Royston. Everything worked out as it should. We have a son now. He’s three months old, and I’m devoted to him and his father. You’ve no need to feel threatened by me.”
“Threatened?” Elaine squeaked, ready to dissolve into dust with self-consciousness. “Why would I feel threatened?”
Lady Royston studied her frankly, her smile too kind. “You obviously love him. And after the way he looked at you at Margate’s ball, well, I’m certain every woman in the room would have given their eye teeth to have a man look at them that way.”
Elaine lowered her eyes, having no idea what to do with everything Lady Royston was saying. She felt green and provincial, like a child who had rushed into a grown-up’s ball in nothing but her nappy. Just when she had convinced herself she was savvy enough to join London’s political and social machinations. She’d been wrong, yet again. “I…that is…Basil and I….”
She was spared having to dig her way out of the increasingly awkward conversation by a swell of applause in response to something the speaker at the front of the crowd said. She and Lady Royston both turned toward the speaker, applauding as though they’d been listening.
“It’s all election, election, election these days,” Lady Royston said as easily as if they’d been friends discussing a garden party the whole time. “I really do find it tiresome.”
“But so much is at stake,” Elaine said, feeling a little as though she were in a dream. At least she had her mission to fall back on. “Basil, I mean, Lord Waltham and his friends are fighting so hard to bring justice and equality to all people, working class and women included. They need our support.”
Lady Royston sent Elaine a glowing smile as the applause died down enough for the speaker to go on. “I can see you believe that.”
“I do,” Elaine insisted. “I have to keep believing that at all costs.”
“Then you and Basil are well-matched.”
Part of her wanted to dissolve into a flurry of nerves and ask if she meant that. Instead, she stood straighte
r and said, “We are.”
“Then don’t let him get away,” Lady Royston said, adding a wink that almost convinced Elaine they could be friends. “He has a way—” She stopped herself, pressing her lips closed as though thinking twice. “Just don’t let him get away.”
“I most certainly won’t,” Elaine vowed. Though how she could hope to keep up with him—the real him—was a mystery to her.
“And that is why it is the Liberal Party which needs your support,” Rodney St. George bellowed to the crowd in Hyde Park, pounding his fist in his hand. “The immoral neglect and legislation at the expense of the people who are the backbone of our society needs to end.”
“Hear, hear!” Alex called out in response.
Basil send his friend a sideways look. There was a time when he would have stood there shouting and carrying on with the rest of the crowd, but he didn’t have it in him to get worked up anymore. At least, not about the election. Alex had a greater stake in the outcome than Basil did, or Armand, who stood watching the proceedings with him. Katya was there as well, and one could argue that her stake in the outcome was higher than the rest of them combined, since a Liberal government might ensure she had more personal rights. But Katya wasn’t watching St. George speak. She was busy watching the crowd with calculating eyes.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” Basil asked her as St. George continued to hold the crowd captive with his words.
“I’m keeping an eye out for the enemy,” Katya answered without pausing her search.
“In that case, if you see Malcolm, let me know,” he said.
Katya sent him a sly look. “Malcolm is the enemy these days. I still can’t believe he hunted you down, like a hound tracks a fox, and dragged you back here.”
Basil arched a brow. “You don’t think I’m needed in London for the election?”
“Of course, you’re needed.” Katya stared incredulously at him. “Your influence and good word have already swayed several May Flowers to our cause.”
“I doubt that.” Basil crossed his arms, frowning at St. George without listening to him.
“It’s true. Just yesterday, Lady Lindsey was telling me that if this election is important enough for you to crawl out of whatever hole you’ve been hiding in to speak up for Gladstone’s party, then she would demand Lord Lindsey vote for the Liberals.”
Basil arched a brow at Katya, not quite believing her statement. Then again, he’d been so busy attending parties and rallies and suppers since returning to London that Murray, his butler, had barely had a chance to lecture him about dereliction of duty after his two-year absence. He’d spoken to so many men in the past week about the Liberal cause that he could barely remember his own name, let alone theirs. Though he was determined not to admit that Malcolm might have been right to fetch him when he did.
“Just because you’re needed here and you’ve done good,” Katya went on, “Doesn’t mean that Malcolm is right.”
The crowd swelled into applause again as St. George made another point.
“Don’t tell me you and Malcolm still haven’t kissed and made up,” Basil said in the midst of the distraction.
Katya sent him a withering look. “Malcolm Campbell and I will never make up,” she said. “Though I’m open to the kissing part.”
Basil laughed in spite of himself. Malcolm and Katya were meant to be together just like he was meant to be with—
His thought stopped as he glanced casually across the crowd, only to spot Elaine. Not just Elaine on her own, though. His heart stopped dead and dropped like a rock into his stomach when he recognized the woman Elaine was speaking to so closely as Elizabeth Grey.
“Oh, dear,” Katya said as she, too, spotted the unlikely pairing.
Basil couldn’t answer her. He was beyond speech. He hadn’t seen Elizabeth since the afternoon when they parted, in the very park where he stood now. She seemed much more at ease, speaking to Elaine, than she had that day, which didn’t settle his shock in the slightest. What was Elizabeth saying to Elaine? How could he possibly hope to recover if Elizabeth revealed the things that were said two years ago.
“Your sweetheart certainly does have a way of making the wrong friends,” Katya said.
It took a moment for her words to sink in. “Malcolm would argue she’s made exactly the right friends.”
“Yes, well, Malcolm is an ass.”
Basil grinned, but it was short-lived. “Elaine doesn’t have anyone to guide her,” Basil said. The simple statement was eerily similar to how he’d felt about Elizabeth before it all fell apart.
“And that is precisely why I wish you would let me call on her at Turpin’s house to see if I can lure her away,” Katya said.
Basil dragged his eyes away from Elaine and Elizabeth just as Elizabeth laughed at something. If she was laughing at Elaine, it didn’t matter what their former connection was, he would…he would what? Run away? Like he had before.
Katya was staring at him with a wry expression, which only added to the pit of self-consciousness in Basil’s gut. “Do you really suppose Turpin would allow you into his house to pay that call?”
“No,” Katya said, disappointed, but nodding as she conceded the point. “We’ll have to find another way to extract her from his clutches.”
“If Elaine doesn’t want to be extracted, you’re not going to be able to convince her to change her mind,” Basil grumbled, glancing across the crowd to watch her again. Elaine’s face was flushed, something even the shade of her parasol couldn’t hide. She was attempting to speak with Elizabeth, and judging by the kind smile Elizabeth sent Elaine in return, she was only barely holding her own. “I should go to her.”
He started to move, but Katya grabbed his arm. “Do you really want to walk in on a conversation between your current and former lovers?”
“Elaine means more to me than Elizabeth or the rest of them ever did,” he answered in a firm but hushed voice, aware that a few of the people standing nearest to them were beginning to listen to their conversation instead of St. George’s speech.
“That may be the case,” Katya said, continuing to hold him still, “but the only thing they could possibly be talking about is you, and you must trust me when I tell you that the last thing you want to hear is two women discussing a mutual paramour.”
Basil cleared his throat, sending an anxious glance toward the two. “You’re probably right.”
“I’m always right when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“Would Malcolm agree?”
Katya frowned and smacked his arm. “Fine. Go fly to your true love’s side. But you should be looking for a way to convince her to disassociate completely with Turpin rather than bumbling about, getting involved in a potential cat-fight.”
“Your advice is duly noted,” Basil grumbled, nodded, then marched off.
He picked his way around the outer edge of the crowd listening to St. George, wondering if he was about to walk into a major disaster. Elizabeth had always been the soul of discretion. Elaine, on the other hand, had the subtlety of a firecracker in a cemetery.
But as he approached them, he began to have second thoughts. He hadn’t spoken to Elizabeth since returning to London. He hadn’t bothered to investigate what had become of her. The last words she had spoken to him were angry ones. Perhaps he should think twice about—
“Oh, Lord Waltham. We were just discussing you.”
It was too late. They saw him, and Elizabeth greeted him with those kind words and an outstretched hand.
“I was just telling Miss Bond here how we used to be acquainted,” she went on.
“Miss—Lady Royston.” Basil corrected himself as he took Elizabeth’s hand and bowed over it. “It’s good to see you again.” He dragged his eyes to the side, dreading what he might see in Elaine’s expression. Oddly enough, he couldn’t read the twist of emotions behind her wide eyes. “Miss Bond.” He nodded to her with as formal a manner as their location, his position
, and her femininity required.
“I should leave the two of you to converse in peace,” Elizabeth said, her smile both embarrassed and knowing. “I wandered off from little Robert and his nanny to take a turn about the park with Lady Tavistock and Lady Powis, and I really should catch up with them.”
“Nanny?” Basil choked, shades of that conversation two years ago coming back to him. She hadn’t lied about her situation back then to get rid of him, had she?
“He’s only three months old,” Elizabeth said pointedly, “and really shouldn’t be without his mama for long.”
“Oh, I see,” he said, so much relief spilling through him that he nearly laughed.
“Good day, Lord Waltham.” Elizabeth nodded to him with a look that reminded him too much of the last time they’d said goodbye. “Good day, Miss Bond.” She paused after nodding to Elaine. “I would very much like it if you would call on me sometime. I’m at home on Wednesdays and Fridays.”
“I…I would be delighted to,” Elaine answered, apparently shocked by the invitation.
Elizabeth nodded to her once more, then walked off, as serene as the swans on the Serpentine.
Basil watched until he was certain he’d gone, then turned to Elaine. “You’re looking lovely this morning.”
“Why did Lady Royston make such a point of telling you how old her son is?” Elaine fired at him, crossing her arms—which she managed to do just as effectively with a parasol in one hand as she did when her hands were free. Her jaw was as tense as he’d ever seen it, and the conflicted emotion in her narrowed eyes had solidified into anger.
Katya was going to laugh at him for a week for failing to take her incredibly intelligent advice to stay out of things.
“I don’t know what she told you, but the information I was told back then turned out not to be true,” he rushed to defend himself.
“What information?” Elaine pressed on, her anger intensifying. “Lady Royston didn’t mention any information. She merely heard that there was an association between us and asked after your wellbeing.”
