Ellen stood in the corner of the drawing room and realised that she didn't have a embroidery frame. She did not teach embroidery at the seminary; that was another teacher's speciality. Ellen hated embroidery and tried to avoid it whenever possible. But now, as all the ladies sat on the sofas, their heads bent over their embroidery, she wondered what she should do in the meantime.
Reading was one possibility.
She stepped outside to find the library.
"One moment, please, Lady Tewkbury." Lady Cynthia had followed her. She was a tall, stately woman who carried herself erect. Perfect ringlets of golden curls covered her head, not a single one out of place, with a pale pink ribbon threaded through them. Her neck was swan-like, and her white muslin dress made her look both girlish and Diana-like. She was one of the men's favourites.
And she had flirted with Edmund.
Her lips were now curved in a smile that held a hint of malice.
Ellen drew her tongue over her lips and waited.
"I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance," she said, as if this was their first introduction, and they hadn't spent the whole afternoon together playing silly children's games.
"Likewise." Ellen folded her hands in front of her and looked at her steadily. The woman wanted something, and her instinct told her it was nothing good.
"I've known Tewkbury for a long time, you see." She traced the marble pattern of the column they stood beside with a delicate finger. "And he has never, as far as I can tell, had the interest or ambition to settle down in the marriage way. Which is why, you must understand, we were quite surprised to learn that he was arriving here—with wife and child. Knot tied, deed done. Rather sudden, don't you think?"
"Noni is his ward."
"Yes, so you say." Cynthia raised a delicately plucked eyebrow. "Interesting, isn't it? Edmund has never been interested in children, or women, or settling down. Until now. I find that strange."
"Love tends to change people," Ellen suggested gently, suppressing a wince as she uttered the lie.
"Love!" She let out a hard, cold, laugh.
Ellen's eyes widened in surprise. Was the woman jealous? If not, what on earth was wrong with her?
"Well, yes, love." Ellen held her gaze. "Why else would we have married so quickly?"
Lady Cynthia's eyes swept over her dress and stopped at her stomach. Ellen had to force herself not to put her hand on her belly. Not again! Was that all these women ever thought about? Then it occurred to her that Lady Dobberham had already started the rumour.
A knowing smile crossed Lady Cynthia's beautiful face.
Well. Let her believe what she wanted. She did not have to defend herself in the least.
Ellen frowned. She was used to dealing with people. True, most of them were children or ladies growing into adulthood; but she'd also had her share of difficult parents who'd tried their best to intimidate her, but inevitably failed.
"Edmund is not the type of man to commit himself to one woman. There has always been a good, shall we say,understandingbetween us, and I shall do my best to keep it that way."
A subtle threat ran through her words.
Ellen pulled herself together. She was a schoolmistress. She would not be bullied by anyone. Especially not by this Lady Cynthia.
"And what, may I ask, is that to you, Lady Cynthia? You are, if I may say so, almost impertinently personal, insinuating things, which is generally considered to be rather bad-mannered.”
That sat. Ellen watched with satisfaction as a red blush crept across Lady Cynthia's cheeks. Ah, so she had not lost the ability to make adults feel like helpless schoolchildren.
"I'm sorry if Tewkbury raised some expectations that he was unable to fulfil," Ellen continued. "I am truly sorry if you have been disappointed in that regard. But it is what it is, for life is like that sometimes, and things do not always turn out the way we expect."
“I'll not be lectured by you," Lady Cynthia hissed. Her eyes narrowed to slits and for a moment, her face became a hideous mask.
Ellen had to stop herself from flinching. Then a streak of fury raced through her. How dare that woman speak to her like that?
"I am his wife, Lady Cynthia," she said in a voice she usually reserved for her most rebellious pupils. "It would be best if you accepted that. Now, for the sake of peace, while we both live under the same roof, I suggest we both forget this unpleasant conversation ever took place."
Lady Cynthia's face slipped back into its usual serene mask. "Of course, if you insist, we can pretend otherwise," she murmured.
