Nora selected a pale-green dress with tiny white rosebuds embroidered on the bodice.
As she pinned up my hair, I worried about what to say to Miss Atherton. She’d been so kind to me at the ball, and I’d hoped we could be friends. All my life, I’d wanted a friend to confide in the way Mama had with Lady Winfield. I’d always longed for a close friendship like they’d shared, never realizing how unique their friendship was until I’d grown.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Nora said, setting a hairpin into my curls.
“This visit has not gone entirely to plan. I have much to think on.”
“Mr. Jennings?”
“He’s at the center of my troubles, yes.” Although it was my ruse with Damon that was currently causing me problems.
“He seems like a good man, but even good men have lapses in judgment. He will come ’round. You’ll see.”
“I hope you are right.”
When Nora was done with my hair, I thanked her, then made my way downstairs to the drawing room, where Lady Winfield waited.
Lady Rumford and Miss Atherton arrived at a quarter to three. The butler led them promptly into the drawing room.
Once we were all seated, Lady Winfield asked the housekeeper to bring in the tea service. As she poured, the matrons spoke about the upcoming social events and other trivial matters. Not once did Miss Atherton look at me.
I twisted mother’s emerald ring on my finger. I needed to come up with an excuse to pull Miss Atherton away so we could talk, and I needed to do it quickly, for I did not know when another opportunity to speak in private would present itself.
As we continued to sip our tea and converse, I glanced about the room. My gaze landed on a painting of a landscape. It was not unique enough as to require further inspection, but it would have to do.
“Miss Atherton, there is a lovely painting on the other side of the room that I would love to show you. Will you join me?”
“Of course,” she said politely, but she took her time setting her teacup on the saucer.
“You’ve said very little today,” I said as we crossed the room.
“Yes, well, you have taught me a valuable lesson on the virtues of keeping to myself. I must compliment you, Miss Kent. You are a talented actress.”
“I promise I’m not. Though Iamstriving to be.”
“I don’t understand.”
We stopped and stood in front of a painting of a landscape. “It is true what I told you at the ball; Ollie is my dearest friend and the man I hope to marry.”
“I don’t believe you.” She frowned. “I saw how you and Lord Jennings danced the supper set. You stood so close to one another, and he spoke to you every chance he had.”
“I understand how it looked, but you are mistaken. Damon came to my rescue. He was only being a gentleman.”
“What happened at the ball that you would need rescuing?”
It would hurt to speak of it, but it was the only way to make her understand the truth. “Ollie refused his set with me in favor of another woman, Miss Digby. Damon saw the slight and asked me to dance.”
Miss Atherton’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I haven’t heard a whisper of gossip.”
“I am not surprised. Anything Damon does has a way of overshadowing Ollie’s actions.”
“I must admit, it’s odd to hear you call Lord Jennings by his Christian name.”
I grimaced. “I probably should not call him by his Christian name, but it is a habit not easily broken, I’m afraid. He and I have been friends—er, adversaries since we were children.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. Not that I wish you to beadversaries, but—” She shook her head. “I am sorry for what you endured at the ball. I likely did not make your night any easier.”
“Thank you,” I said, and as tempted as I was to leave my confession at that, if Miss Atherton and I were ever to become true friends, then she needed to know the whole of it. Confiding in her involved some risk, but wasn’t it vulnerability that made Mama’s and Lady Winfield’s friendship so special?
