I can still manage to do something horrible.Should she start a fight, perhaps? She didn’t like the idea of hurting anyone, but what if she just shouted a few insults? That might be enough.
Hannah brought a second champagne flute with her as she went back out to the main gaming rooms.
For courage.
There were only about seventy or eighty women in the club this evening, at a rough guess. Not enough to pack the rooms. But that might work to her advantage. If she made a big enough spectacle, it couldn’t be lost in the din.
Her best bet was to harangue someone of some influence, who would be capable of starting an effective gossip campaign against her. Oh! Lady Eleanor would be a perfect target. But what was Hannah to say?
Your dress is unflattering. Your face is ugly and I don’t like you. I heard that your mother was a dairy maid.
Everything she could think of was socruel. What if she made Lady Eleanor cry? Hannah wouldn’t want anyone to suffer just because she needed to cause a scandal.
“How are you doing?” Della was suddenly in front of her, cutting off her view of lady Eleanor’s table. Her gaze fell upon Hannah’s champagne flute. “Have you been drinking?”
“Only a little! I got so hot when I was in the kitchens checking on Cook.”
Hannah braced herself for a lecture, as Mama would have given, but Della proved to be a more permissive companion. “It’s all right. I saw you at Mr. Corbyn’s table earlier. How is he with the guests?”
Oh goodness.Had Della noticed how much she’d stared at him?
“I see what you mean when you said he was rough,” Hannah finally replied. “He swears like a sailor.”
That was an exaggeration, but hehadcursed when he’d apologized for comparing her to Eli. It wasn’t often that anyone used foul language in her hearing.
“Were the ladies very offended?”
“Not really. I think that redhead has taken a fancy to him. The one in the green gown.” Hannah flushed just thinking about it. The woman flirted so shamelessly. What would it be like to have that sort of confidence?
“Miss Berry,” Della said, after a glance to Mr. Corbyn’s table. “She’d best stay well enough away before she ruins her prospects.”
“Why? He’s very low-class, then?” She’d presumed as much from the fact that he was working as a dealer, but he’d seemed gentlemanlike enough aside from the slight problem of his language.
“Not only that. He was dishonorably discharged for fighting with his superior. Your brother could probably tell you more about it than I could, but I certainly wouldn’t be caught flirting with a man like that where everyone could see me.”
I should have flirted with him!Hannah realized with a start.
Why on earth hadn’t she thought of it sooner? It would have been perfect. But it was too late to go back, after the way she’d stormed off.
The truth was, Hannah could never have dared to flirt with someone like Mr. Corbyn. He was so handsome that half the ladies at his table were vying to catch his eye. Just look at that mouth. Though it was set in a severe line, his lips were too full to be anything but kissable, no matter how stern an expression he might wear. And that hair! It fell in golden waves that looked perpetually tousled. How did he do it? The most talented lady’s maid in the world couldn’t have produced such a masterpiece.
Hannah realized she was staring again, despite the fact that Della had probably been waiting for her to say something for a solid minute.
“Um…by the way, how is your book coming?” Hannah asked, fumbling for some topic of conversation to hide her obvious fixation on Mr. Corbyn. “Is the viscount being kind to you?”
The last time they’d seen one another, Della had told her about her plans to write a lady’s guidebook to the sights of London. The Viscount Ashton was collaborating on the project with her, as he’d already written a similar book meant for gentlemen.
“Verykind,” Della said in a telling voice. She even added a wink on the end, lest there be any confusion as to her meaning.
What?
Hannah’s blood ran cold. She couldn’t have heard right, wink or no. “What do you mean by that?”
She can’t beinvolvedwith the man, can she?
Just the other day, Hannah had overheard Jane and Eli discussing their concerns that Della seemed overly attached to her new mentor. She’d presumed it was just Jane worrying too easily, but now the conversation took on a new significance.
Della’s eyes grew wide, offering visible proof of her guilt. “Nothing. I only meant—”
