“Oh, but that’s perfect.” Annabelle’s sour expression vanished at this news. “Then you’ll hardly need to see him.”
I like seeing him, Hannah very nearly replied. She bit her lip before the words could escape. Why should she think such a thing? This was all an act, not a real courtship, and Mr. Corbyn seemed annoyed to be with her half the time.
But Hannahdidlike it when he was around. Despite his gruff exterior, she felt safer when he was nearby. Less alone.
She swallowed, suddenly flustered. “I suppose you’re right,” she replied, unsure what else to say.
She might have told Miss Annabelle the truth, but the risk that she might repeat the tale to her older sister was too great. If Della told Jane, she would tell Eli, and Eli would tell their mother.
Better to keep this conspiracy limited to herself and Mr. Corbyn. She didn’t dare trust anyone else.
“Anyway, how are things at Bishop’s?” Hannah asked, eager to turn the conversation away from her deceit now that she’d finished sharing the most critical information. “And your sister, how is her book coming along?”
“She’s nearly finished,” Annabelle replied. “Though the viscount had to step back from the project. You’ll have seen the story in the papers, no doubt.”
“Er—” In fact, Hannah hadn’t been reading the papers lately. Mama had considered the news far too inflammatory for her delicate mind while she’d been shut away these past few weeks. Without any opportunity to speak to other people, she had no idea what was going on outside the walls of her guest bedroom.
“His wife is divorcing him,” Annabelle confided, seeing her confusion. “They’ve gone through chancery court, and she’s expected to bring a private bill to the House of Lords presently.”
“My.” Hannah swallowed. “That is shocking.”
“He’s all but retreated from society, from what I gather. We haven’t seen him in weeks.”
“But that must be for the best?”
Miss Annabelle made a noncommittal sound, her expression solemn. Surely she couldn’t support her sister’s connection to such a man?
This was the best outcome for Della.
“She’s been spending less time at the club, and I understand Lady Kerr has taken on some of the extra evenings.” Annabelle’s youthful face transformed into something like a pout. “I don’t see whysheshould be allowed to help. She doesn’t have any particular genius, you must admit. I’m hoping I might convince Jane and my sister to let me join them instead.”
“You?” Hannah blinked. “I didn’t realize you liked cards.”
“It’s not about the cards,” Annabelle explained patiently. “It’s about the money. They bring in more profit every year, and I wouldn’t mind having my own funds without having to ask my parents every time I want something.”
Of course!That was how she would get the money to pay Mr. Corbyn. Hannah was already checking over the books for Jane. If she could prove to her sister-in-law that she was useful, she might find more work. Especially now that her engagement had made her respectable again.
Relatively speaking.
Hannah hazarded a glance to Mr. Corbyn. He didn’t look to be enjoying himself much, but then, his smile was such a rare thing that it should come as no surprise if he didn’t grace the wild rose party with its appearance. Maybe she should get back to him. After all, hewassuffering through this event for her sake.
“I should return to the others, but please call on me soon. My mother should let me see you now.” She didn’t think she was quite brave enough to call on the Danby residence yet, even if Dellahadsevered her ties to the viscount.
She took her leave from Annabelle and went back to Mr. Corbyn, but when she reached his side, he didn’t even acknowledge her. Perhaps he was engrossed in his conversation with Mrs. Brandon.
“And then I told Lady Hawthorne, ‘That’s not a pudding, that’s a custard!’”
No. The conversation couldn’t be distracting him.
“How are you enjoying the party?” Hannah asked, trying to catch Mr. Corbyn’s gaze.
“It’s lovely,” Mrs. Brandon replied for him. “And may I offer you my congratulations on your engagement, Miss Williams. I wassorelieved when your mother told me the news.”
“Er, yes,” Hannah managed. “We’re very happy.”
She inched her elbow into Mr. Corbyn’s side, hoping to prompt some display of affection. It was like nudging a brick wall. He couldn’t have looked less happy if he were trying (which he very well might be).
“What was your engagement present?” Mrs. Brandon gave Hannah a quick once-over. “I don’t see a ring. Did he give you a necklace?”
