"Good, good, good, here you are! Tewkbury, don't you look an eyeful? A veritable tulip. Or should I say rose?" She giggled. "You eclipse us all. The ladies would fall all over themselves, only, what a shame, you are married now! How tragic. I can't wait to hear what everyone says! Everyone else has arrived and is gathered below. We'll have such an entertaining afternoon, you will see!" she trilled.
"It will be a pleasure indeed," Tewkbury drawled. "I say, what can be more enjoyable than playing games, like little children? Harpy diem and all that."
Louisa burst into laughter. "You are so funny, Tewkbury.Carpediem it is, of course! Let this be the motto of our party. Come along!"
Ellen glanced at him to see if he was being sarcastic, but his face was a mask.
Strange, she thought, how he played the fool in the company of others.
She wondered why, and if she could find out if there was more to it while they were here.
CHAPTER TEN
Apart from Tewkbury and Lord and Lady Dobberham, Ellen knew absolutely no one in the entire party. Louisa introduced her to everyone, and she was interrogated and studied behind quizzing glasses with raised eyebrows. There was the Duchess of Amersbury, Lady Gosford, Lady Elinor, who nodded at her kindly, Miss Anne, whom she was chaperoning, Miss Mary, Lady Cynthia, who snubbed her outright, and other ladies whose names she immediately forgot. Now she was sitting on a sofa next to the Duchess of Amersbury, who was talking to Lady Gosford, listening to them discussing the latest gossip at Almack's. She did not know any of the people mentioned, so she felt a little out of her depth.
Remember who you really are, Ellen reminded herself. You are a schoolmistress. And proud of it. She lifted her chin. If she could handle a room full of unruly schoolchildren, she could handle a room full of frightful aristocrats.
She had nothing to be ashamed of, even if the Duchess had spent a terrifying moment inspecting her through a lorgnette, remarking that her hair was quite red.
Well, it was. One couldn't help the colour of one's hair, even if one washed it daily with St John's wort and mullein. It was a recipe her nurse had insisted she use on her hair since she had been a little girl, and somehow she'd kept doing it until now. It was supposed to make her hair more flaxen, but so far it had made little difference.
Lady Gosford looked down her narrow nose at her. "One hears that you and Tewkbury had a rather hasty marriage."
"Yes, I suppose it was rather precipitous." Ellen plaited her dress under her fingers. "Some things can't be helped, I suppose." It was an awkward answer, but what else was she to say? And where was Tewkbury to help her out of this predicament? He was in another corner, chatting with two other ladies who had their hands over their mouths and were giggling. He seemed very popular with the ladies.
Lady Gosford's eyes fell on Ellen's stomach. "One can imagine what that might be."
Ellen stared at Lady Gosford, stunned. "Oh. No. It's not that at all," she stammered. She clasped her hand to her stomach, which might not have been a wise move.
Louisa's face broke into a delighted grin. She leaned over to Lady Monroe, who was standing beside her, and whispered in her ear. Lady Monroe's head turned towards Ellen. She winked.
Ellen stifled a groan. Wonderful. Now it would spread like wildfire that they'd married because she was pregnant.
Fortunately, the footman rolled in a side table with tea and a selection of sandwiches, seed cakes, hot crumpets, Madeira cakes, ham pies and sausage rolls.
Eating was good because it meant less talking.
"Yes, eat, eat, child. It is good for you and the little one," Louisa said. "Amazing how one's appetite grows, don't you think? Every time I am increasing, I eat like a whale." The Dobberhams had three little ones, all under the age of three.
"It's not what you think," Ellen protested.
But Louisa merely patted her arm.
During tea they'd asked about her background, and Ellen had found it difficult to answer without fibbing while giving enough information to satisfy their curiosity. The closer to the truth, the better, she decided.
When the Duchess of Amersbury had asked who her parents were, no doubt expecting some titled lord, Ellen had replied, "Mr Jacob Robinson. My stepfather is a professor of philosophy and literature."
"A professor." Lady Amersbury had paused for a tiny second before bringing her teacup to her lips. There was a world of censorship in her words.
Ellen chose to ignore it.
"I'm sure Lady Tewkbury means her sire is a learned gentleman scholar of the landed gentry," put in another lady whose name Ellen had forgotten.
"Oh, no." Ellen took a sip from her teacup and set it down with a cheerful smile. "My stepfather taught at Cambridge for the last decade or so, but now he lectures at the Royal Institution and writes books."
"He makes his own living?" Lady Gosford gasped.
Ellen sat up, her spine straighter than a pole. "Why, yes. It is nothing indecent. I am used to making my own living too."
