Rosalynn speared me with a look so full of varying emotions that I could not decipher what she was feeling. I simply was grateful when she nodded. “Forgive me,” she said, turning to Lord McGregor. “Perhaps you could save me a game.”
He bowed. “Of course.”
She stepped between her brother and Lord McGregor, much the regal queen, and followed me toward my aunt. I was surprised to see Lord Cameron close beside her when I turned to make the introductions, but I hoped it was not apparent in my face.
Aunt Georgina nodded at Rosalynn’s curtsey and winked at Lord Cameron’s bow. My jaw dropped at her forward behavior, but upon noticing her twinkle and his amusement I tried not to be so thoroughly shocked. That was perhaps one of the benefits of being an eccentric older woman: one could be as brazen as she pleased.
“And you have known each other quite some time, I am told,” Aunt Georgina said, indicating all of us.
“We were at school together,” Freya supplied. “I am fortunate to have gained an instant connection with the both of them.”
“Fortunate, indeed.” Taking a sip of her lemonade, Aunt Georgina smacked her lips and placed the glass on the small table beside her armchair. “Well, you simply must come here often. I love to have visitors, and the dog will grow sorrowful, I am sure, without a thorough petting every so often.”
Rosalynn exchanged glances with Lord Cameron. He gave her a brief shrug.
I said, “She is referring to Coco.”
“Whatever for?” Rosalynn asked.
“She has been evicted,” Freya replied.
“Elsie?” Lord Cameron expostulated, his eyes wide as saucers.
“No.” I tried not to be offended. “I am not homeless, only Coco. Father has told me I must find a new home for her, and Aunt Georgina has graciously offered to provide one. I am eternally grateful.”
“It is nothing,” Aunt Georgina said. “Now I find myself interested in playing a hand of whist.” Her eye was fixed on Lord Cameron, and he obliged her. “I hate to leave you here, but there seems to be a place opening just over there. It was lovely to meet you, and welcome to my home.”
She walked away on his arm and I turned toward Rosalynn, hoping to find grace within her countenance.
Instead, I found delight.
“Your aunt is lovely,” she said, Freya nodding agreement.
“I knew you’d both love her. She is extraordinary, to be sure. Quite the epitome of doing what she wishes and saying what she will. I believe she does not care a whit for what others may think or say of her.”
If only I could be so brave.
Silence reigned for a moment, none of us knowing quite the right thing to say. The conversation earlier in my bedchamber could not be undone, and the things that were said were now laid out before us. I did not feel the need to defend my actions, for I did not feel I had done anything wrong. Freya, on the other hand, looked exceedingly sorrowful.
She stepped forward and placed her hand under Rosalynn’s elbow. “Forgive me? I have let myself get wrapped up in the glamour of the Season and I fear I let my priorities get away from me.”
“I am not your mother,” Rosalynn said slowly, not unkindly. “It is not for me to say how you should live your life. I was bothered by other things and said more than I should have. I vented my anger on you both, and neither of you deserved my censure. Let us put it behind us and move forward with respect and support as we have done in the past.”
Freya and I stood in stunned silence. That was not the reprimanding I had come to expect from Rosie, nor was it the guilt she could have heaped upon us. It was humble, and it was the truth.
I pulled her into a brief embrace, aware of our setting and the many watchful eyes. I spotted an open sofa a few paces away and pulled them both toward it, seating ourselves against the wall where we might talk at our leisure.
“I believe,” Freya began quiet but steadily, “if I have the both of you by my side, I may very well accomplish anything.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The evening was winding down and Mother had shot me multiple loaded glances throughout the past hour which clearly said, “I should like to go home now.”
I did my best to pretend not to see them, thoroughly enjoying the card games and company of my dearest friends. We lost Rosalynn to Lord McGregor not long after she arrived, but Freya and I were able to partner a few times and had since been reunited with our third.
“I haven’t mentioned yet how stunning your gown is,” Rosalynn said, leaning back in her chair slightly to survey me. We had finished a round of cards and lost our fourth player, Cecily, to Mr. Fenton. “Odd choice to pick something so breathtaking for a night of cards. And I don’t believe I’ve seen that necklace before.”
My fingers immediately went to the cameo necklace, and the reason I had chosen my gown—it matched the necklace so perfectly. “It was my grandmother’s,” I said, trying to ignore Lord Cameron’s approach to our table. He pulled out a chair and sat across from me.
“Whist?” he said, beginning to shuffle the cards Cecily had left behind.
Freya leaned forward and picked up my necklace, squinting her eyes and tilting her head slightly. “It is gorgeous,” she said.
“So lovely,” Rosalynn agreed.
“Aunt Georgina gave it to me.” I picked up my cards and began to sort them into proper order. “I’m not sure if my father even knew of it before.” In fact, he probably still didn’t, since he chose not to accompany us that evening in lieu of a night at his club. Again. But I kept that to myself.
“Did he not know her well?”
I glanced up from my cards to see what Lord Cameron had played. “She died on the day of his birth.”
“Tragic,” Freya said sadly. “I cannot imagine not knowing one’s mother.”
“I very well could,” Lord Cameron said wryly.
Rosalynn shot him a glare. “You speak as though Mother is a nuisance.”
“No, darling Rosie.” He leveled her with a look. “She would have to be around much to earn that title.”
“Of course she is not around much,” she snapped. “And do you blame her?”
Freya shot me a discreet look and I played my turn, hoping for the conversation to shift with it. I was not in luck.
Lord Cameron’s mouth hung slack, his eyebrows inching higher. “You think her blameless?”
Rosalynn straightened her already perfect posture, her gaze trained on her cards. “I find I can sympathize with her, yes.”
He laid his cards on the table, not heeding the need for secrecy. Standing up, he did not take his eyes from his sister’s face. “We shall never agree on this subject and I will ask you to complete your business and be ready to leave when our carriage is brought around.”
He strode out the door in long, fluid motions, Rosalynn staring after him as though he’d gone mad.
Perhaps he had.
“What was the meaning of that?” Freya asked, braver than I.
Her gaze remained fixed on the door while she answered the question softly. “My mother has left for home, putting my brothers in charge of squiring me about for the remainder of the Season. Evidently, Cameron is bothered by the responsibility.”
Lord Cameron had escorted Rosalynn to more functions so far than her mother had, so that was not entirely believable. I had only seen Lady Clifton a handful of times, myself, the majority of those in her own home. The root of their disagreement clearly had something to do with their taking sides. Though I’d no idea what it could be about.
Freya wrinkled her softly freckled nose. “I was under the impression that he enjoyed social activities.”
“They are a necessary evil,” she countered. Standing, she dropped her cards on the table and exhaled in frustration. “I suppose I must obey.”
She left to take leave of Aunt Georgina and I stood. “Would you like more lemonade?” I asked Freya.
She glanced up from collecting the cards. “Yes, I would.”
<
br /> A footman, standing at the ready, poured the beverages and I took them, narrowly avoiding dropping them when I turned around and nearly ran into a man’s black jacket. “Forgive me,” I said, hurriedly setting the glasses on the table and pulling out my handkerchief to wipe the drops of lemonade that sprinkled his jacket.
“It is nothing,” Lord Cameron said, immediately stepping out of my reach.
My cheeks went hot and I slipped the handkerchief back into my reticule. Why had I attempted to wipe the man clean? I could not believe I had touched him like that.
“I apologize,” he said, his voice oddly formal, “for the outbreak a moment ago. It was uncivilized.”
“I do not find emotion uncivil, Lord Cameron. We all feel it, even when we’d rather not.”
His gaze focused on me and I felt the odd sensation that he knew my mind. I stepped back slightly and he opened his mouth to speak, only to clear his throat and glance away instead. “Nevertheless, it was impolite.”
I had no response for that. I could not contradict his truth, but was it equally crass to admit it had not bothered me?
Picking up the lemonade glasses again I prepared to turn away when a sharp elbow in between my shoulder blades shoved me forward and the contents of both glasses arched in the air and landed squarely in Lord Cameron’s face.
Sputtering, he wiped at his eyes with his fingers while I pulled my handkerchief out again and pushed it into his hand. He seemed to jump at my forceful connection, but I did not care. For all I knew the lemon was severely burning his unopened eyes. I would not be responsible for blinding a lord.
He wiped at his eyes, producing his own handkerchief when mine grew sodden. By the time he finished his ministrations, I became aware of the distinct quiet in the room and all eyes on me. A slow blush crept up my neck and into my cheeks when Lord Cameron met my gaze.
He seemed disturbed, though not upset. He appeared frustrated, but not angry with me. I could not quite understand how I had reached that conclusion and even when he turned to listen to the footman who came to probably tell him his carriage was waiting outside, I could not tear my eyes away from him. He gave me a slight nod, smiled genially to the room at large and then swept out the door, Rosalynn soon behind him.
“We are leaving now,” Mother said into my ear between clenched teeth. I startled softly and then meekly followed her from the room, keeping my gaze lowered, careful not to draw further attention to myself.
In the carriage on the way home, mother spoke softly into the darkness. “I cannot wait to see what is said about you in the papers tomorrow.” She sighed, long and drawn out. “Or perhaps it is better left unknown.”
“It was hardly my fault someone bumped into me,” I defended.
Mother was unconvinced. Shaking her head, she muttered, “I just don’t know what we are ever going to do with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The bell jingled above the door when we stepped into the fashionable modiste. Two women were being assisted near the bolts of pale fabric in the corner and a shop girl was sweeping up bits of thread and fuzz on the wooden floor.
Mother immediately moved toward a bolt of deep burgundy satin, fingering the shiny fabric between her gloved fingers. It was the perfect shade to set off her brown hair, darkened with age. Until the portrait of my grandmother was revealed to me, I had always thought I looked more like my mother than my father. I wondered now if Mother had ever seen her mother-in-law’s portrait, and if she was aware of just how much I had inherited from Father’s side of the family.
“You should order a new gown, too,” I said, prompting her. The burgundy satin was exquisite, and because the focus had been on my come out since arriving in London, I was quite sure Mother was due a new gown. She deserved to treat herself after everything she put up with.
“Perhaps I will.”
I turned away, perusing the various spools of lace lining the wall. Mother had not kept true to her threat last evening and had scoured the papers this morning for mention of my lemonade debacle. We had both been shocked to find that it was overlooked. In fact, the card party, in general, had been absent from gossip.
It was confusing, but I was not going to try and figure out why it was happening. I was simply grateful for it.
“But did you hear what happened last evening?” A small voice carried from the opposite side of the room. “She actually threw her drink into Lord Cameron’s face.”
My body stiffened and though I was not near my mother any longer, I could feel her holding her breath from where I stood.
The woman continued. “I heard he propositioned her and she was showing him how she felt about his invitation.”
I pulled in a sharp breath. Glancing to Mother, she gave me a sharp shake of her head and I tilted my own in question. How could she let these women discuss me without any defense? The falsehoods about me aside, Lord Cameron did not deserve to be spoken of in such a light, particularly when it was untrue.
The other voice chimed in, laughing, “She should be so lucky.”
The second voice was familiar. I knew it, though I could not place from where. I strained to hear the rest of their conversation, but they had begun whispering and I was unable to decipher their words.
Mother approached me and spoke quietly. “We will not supply any more fodder for their gossip. Do not engage.”
I obeyed, but I couldn’t help glancing toward the ladies when they wrapped up their business and left the building. I did not recognize the profile of the first woman; irritation filled me when I saw the second. Luckily she did not look to me, for if she had I no doubt would have opened my mouth and given my opinions on those who do not stick up for others. Particularly when she was well aware I had spent my final months at school defending her.
Cecily Hapworth was apparently less loyal than I.
The remainder of our time choosing fabrics and flipping through fashion plates was something of a blur. I flitted between anger and hurt, doing my utmost to feel less of the latter.
When we arrived home, Mother dropped her bonnet and gloves at the door before saying, “I shall nap until the ball tonight. Do not wake me.”
“May I take the carriage out?” I asked, swallowing. “I need to take Coco to her new home.”
She turned on the stairs, confused. “Who?”
“My dog.”
“Oh, yes. Just be back in time for dinner.”
I nodded. She had forgotten about Coco. Perhaps there was a chance Father had forgotten, too. Though I was not prepared to test that theory. I went upstairs and gathered Coco into my arms, her favorite toys and blanket collected in a basket and waiting near the door. The leash poked out slightly and I found my gaze drawn to it. The temptation to sneak it out of the basket temporarily took me, but I shook off the absurd notion at once.
“Come now, Coco. Let us go and meet your new mother.”
I pulled on the rope to call for Molly. Coco bounded off my lap when the maid arrived and I tried not to feel hurt by her disloyalty. It was impossible not to recognize that Coco had been around Molly more than she’d been with me. I shot my maid a glance in the carriage while we jostled our way over to Aunt Georgina’s house and noticed the decided sheen in her eye.
I rubbed behind Coco’s ears. “We shall simply have to visit Aunt Georgina regularly.” I turned my attention to the dog. “And you will have to behave so she does not turn you out on your ear.”
“IT HAS BEEN QUITE A few years since I have lived under the same roof as a dog.” Aunt Georgina sat on the golden armchair in her drawing room, eyeing Coco who sat on the floor in front of her with guarded calculation, tilting her head slowly to the side. Coco mirrored her head in a tilt and Aunt Georgina’s eyes flashed in amusement. I let out a silent sigh. It was going to work out.
“You’re quite the spunky little thing.”
I scooped Coco up and settled her onto my lap. “And you are quite the popular hostess,” I said, eyeing Aunt Georgina from the s
ide. Her soft smile was knowing and she bent down to busy herself with the tea.
“I appreciated your little diversion at the end of the evening,” she said, her face even. “Of course you couldn’t have known that I had gotten myself into a horrifically boring conversation with the mother of a shockingly ugly debutante. She asked me if I would sponsor a ball for the girl. Can you believe the gall of it?” Handing me a cup of hot tea prepared just the way I like it, she continued to pour a cup for herself. “Your little outburst was the distraction I needed to change the course of the conversation.”
I lifted my cup in a salute. “You’re very welcome.”
“Now,” she said, settling into her chair. “Explain what really happened, because I am certain you did not intend to throw your drink into Lord Cameron’s face.”
Sipping my tea, I took my time in responding, my free hand rubbing Coco’s back. “No, it was not intentional on my part. Though rumor would say otherwise.”
“What rumors, exactly?” a deep voice said from the doorway, forcing the hair on my bandage-free arm to stand on end.
“Speak of the devil,” Aunt Georgina said quietly. She set her teacup down and fixed her smile on Lord Cameron. “Were your ears ringing, sir?”
“Yes.” He smiled at me and waited to be invited in. Aunt Georgina dragged the moment out and I found it uncomfortable, though Lord Cameron, in utter contradiction, seemed entirely at ease. He must have moved past whatever had been bothering him the night before.
“Do come and sit down,” she said finally. “Will you join us for tea?”
“No, thank you. I have already eaten.” Depositing himself on the settee directly across from me, he crossed an ankle over his knee and settled into his seat.
“Have you removed all of the lemonade from your person?” Aunt Georgina asked, a smile playing at her lips.
I flushed, positive I was beet red.
Lord Cameron, graciously, chuckled.
Love in the Bargain: A Sweet Regency Romance (Women of Worth Book 1) Page 14
