“But that doesn’t change the fact that you could never have a respectable future with him. Even with this divorce, they can’t remarry unless Parliament allows it.”
“Which it may,” Della couldn’t stop herself from pointing out, before she thought to add, “But whether or not he can remarry is none of my business. Lord Ashton is afriend.”
At least, I hope he’s still my friend.Now didn’t seem the best time to solicit Jane’s opinion on their recent quarrel.
“I saw the way you two looked at one another at the Lyceum.” Jane was altogether too observant for her own good.
“There was an attachment,” Della admitted somewhat reluctantly. “But he hasn’t made me an offer, nor would I expect him to in the circumstances. He’s been honest with me about his situation from the start.”
Would things be different now that the court had granted Lady Ashton her ruling?
“I just can’t see why you would give up our club for a man who can’t marry you. What if you regret it later?”
It was hard to find an answer for Jane. These were the same questions she’d been asking herself. Though Della wouldn’t have said she was giving up the club for Lord Ashton when she didn’t even know what his intentions might be, she had to admit that a part of her did hope it would change things between them. That if Bishop’s no longer posed an obstacle, he might decide that he wanted more than a brief tryst from her.
But Jane was right. The decision had to be her own, or she might come to regret it.
“I’m not giving it up for a man,” she said firmly. “I told you, my own feelings are…conflicted. What meant so much to me was never the club; it was about us building something together. I wanted tobe there for you when you needed help. I didn’t want to let you down.”
“Are you saying I pushed you into it?” Jane looked truly stricken. “I never meant to make you feel like you couldn’t say no to me. I thought we were equal partners.”
“We were,” Della assured her. “I was happy there at first. I’m still happy in many ways. It’s only that I’m not sure if it’s something I’m meant to do for the rest of my life, that’s all. And it isn’t your fault I didn’t have the courage to tell you so sooner. I was just worried that if I left we might not…well, see each other anymore,” she finished awkwardly.
“Of course we would. You’re my dearest friend. Why would you think that could ever change?”
Della only looked at her lap, her face hot. Her fears felt silly now.
After a moment, Jane amended, “I know things haven’t been the same since Gloria was born. If I’m being quite honest, I think I’ve been afraid to let anyone help me. She just seems to need me so much, it felt like I couldn’t trust her to anyone but Eli or something might go wrong.” She offered a shaky smile. “But since our little crisis I’ve had to ask Eli’s mother to watch her so that we could both attend Bishop’s in the evenings. After the first night they seem to have figured things out. I think it will do me some good to have a bit more time away. I’ll try to make more time for you from now on, whatever you decide about the club.”
“Thank you,” Della said, meaning it. “I’m only suggesting we reduce my commitment a bit, as we discussed. Nothing drastic. And as for Lord Ashton, please don’t blame him for my decisions. I care about him and I hope you can try not to judge him too harshly without having the occasion to know him better.”
“I’ll try,” Jane promised, which was probably the best Della could hope for in the circumstances.
Nineteen
Lyman returned from the House of Lords that evening feeling exhausted. Though he’d been trying to lie low until talk about the court proceedings had blown over, he still took his seat for important matters, and the Mines and Collieries Bill was up for debate. It had been damnably awkward, though. Men he’d known for years eyed him warily instead of greeting him with warmth. One or two had offered their support, but it was of a repugnant flavor and brought him no comfort.
“You can never trust a woman,” Lord Esterhazy had told him, with a grave shake of his head. “Doesn’t she have any shame, dragging such business up in public for the whole world to see? It’s a wife’s role to stand by her husband through a few hardships.”
“I wouldn’t expect her to,” Lyman had replied coolly. “The fault was mine, not hers.”
This had provoked some awkward blustering and driven away the only sympathetic ear in the House that evening.
If that weren’t bad enough, Mr. Wood had seen the story in the paper earlier and offered him unsolicited advice about the conductof the case for the duration of their breakfast. Even Lyman’s pointed reminder that Wood was training to be asolicitorrather than a proctor, and had thus never set foot in the ecclesiastical courts, failed to silence the man. The prospect of watching his fellow lodger endure real legal proceedings was simply too much for Wood to resist. He’d insisted on dissecting every detail he’d seen in the papers with Lyman, telling him where his proctor should have done more to defend his good name and whathewould have done differently if it had been his case, until Mr. Hirsch had rapped his broom on the ceiling to signal that he’d been waiting on his apprentice downstairs.
When Lyman returned home, he tried not to let his steps make a sound on the creaking floorboards, lest the noise summon Wood once more, but he was relieved to discover the man was absent. Only Clarkson was at home, though he didn’t come out from his room to greet him. He must be busy with his own work.
Lyman set the kettle on to boil, seeking distraction in the familiar routine. Though the first step was over, the hardest part was still before them. The Consistory Court of London was less reticent to grant decrees of divorce a mensa et thoro in recent years than it once had been, largely because the parties remained bound not to remarry and the church didn’t have to worry about any new unions complicating things. Parliament would be another matter entirely.
A soft rap on the door interrupted his thoughts.
Please not Wood, he prayed. Lyman knew his absence had been too good to be true.
But when he opened the door, it was Della who stood on the landing. Though she’d wrapped herself in a cloak with a deep hood, Lyman recognized her short, plump figure even before she pulled it back to reveal her face.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed. “I told you not to come!”
“AndItoldyouthat I wanted a chance to explain myself. Why wouldn’t you just call on me like I asked? It would have been easier than making me ride all the way out to Pimlico unseen.”
