“You are right, of course, but you underestimate my ability not to draw attention to myself. I am just as safe as any man would be. I’ll remain unassuming and keep to the main roads.”
Her friends eyed each other silently before looking at her, resigned. Both knew that there was nothing they could say to dissuade her.
Arabella squeezed her hand while Eleanor squeezed the other.
“We will still help you escape,” Arabella insisted. “True, Cheltenham is a little too far for the excuse I’ll be telling my mother. But if you wish to make the journey alone, El and I will at least make sure you’re set up for success. Youwillhave a real life.”
Gwen smiled, though her heart still hurt. “Thank you, both of you. I hope, when I am in Cheltenham, that I can forget Victor entirely. Perhaps one day I might even find a husband who is gentle. Someone kind.”
Arabella’s eyes lit up. “A handsome widower with two children and a tragic backstory.”
“Someone practical,” Eleanor corrected. “With a stable income and no scandal behind him.”
Gwen laughed softly. “Either would be better than my current prospects.”
They leaned closer over Eleanor’s notes, whispering final details. The plan took form like a puzzle, slowly assembling into clarity.
None of them noticed the slight movement in the shadowed corridor behind them.
None of them heard the sharp intake of breath.
None of them sensed the silent presence just beyond the palms.
But someone had overheard. Someone who should not have.
Someone who stepped back into the shadowed corridor with the weight of their words echoing like a tolling bell.
CHAPTER 17
“Lady Gwendoline, a message for you.”
Gwen turned, her smile still fixed for the sake of the lady she had just greeted. The footman who had addressed her stood a few paces away, liveried in Harrowden colors, his expression neutral.
“For me?” she asked. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, My Lady.” He bowed and held out a small, folded note on a silver tray. “Delivered a short while ago. I was told it was urgent.”
Arabella leaned closer at once. “Oh, how thrilling. Perhaps it’s a secret admirer.”
Eleanor arched an eyebrow. “Or more likely Howard, demanding to know why you dared to smile.”
“Don’t,” Gwen muttered, though her lips twitched despite herself.
Her pulse quickened as she reached for the paper. It was square, plain, unsealed, the sort of thing one might use for a servant’s list or a quickly scrawled direction. Yet the moment her fingers brushed the edge, she knew.
She could not say whether it was the thickness of the paper, or the familiar scent clinging to it, or the sudden tightening of her chest.
“Will you read it?” Arabella whispered eagerly.
Gwen hesitated. “I do not know that it is meant for sharing.”
“You will tell us if it is dreadful,” Eleanor said calmly. “And if it is delightful, you will tell us that as well.”
Gwen managed a small nod and stepped half a pace away, enough to put the nearby pillar and the room’s noise between them. She unfolded the note with deliberate care, her heart beating far too fast.
There were only a few lines, written in a strong, familiar hand.
Lady Gwendoline,
