“I’d be delighted!” Lydia’s mother clapped her hands like an over-excited toddler. “I wager one thousand pounds that this house party I’ve organised will yield at least one marriage proposal, if not more, by the end of the party.”
Lady Rosebury cackled, obviously pleased by Lady Bellingham’s confidence.
“I love you dearly, my friend, but I’m afraid I must bet against you. I wager fifteen hundred pounds that -- considering whopopulates your rather fascinating guest list -- this particular house party is far more likely to yield an outrageous scandal than a marriage proposal.”
Lydia bit her lip, not necessarily enjoying Lady Rosebury’s thinly veiled condescension. However, she knew that it was highly likely that the insufferable gossipmonger was quite correct in her assessment.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Lady Bellingham sputtered.
“Oh, come on, dearest.” Lady Rosebury clicked her tongue and sucked in a deep breath, obviously gearing up for a long-winded explanation, one that Lydia fully intended to shamelessly eavesdrop on. She drifted down the hall, far behind the herd of guests in front of her, but also far enough ahead of her mother and Lady Rosebury that she wouldn’t be immediately suspected of eavesdropping, even though that’s exactly what she was doing. Out of the corner of her eye, Lydia spotted Lady Rosebury’s reflection in the large, floor-length mirror which hung in the entrance hall. The woman actually lifted her hand, preparing to tick reasons off on her fingers like a know-it-all schoolmistress. “You’ve invited a girl with a history of throwing rather spectacular and unfortunately public tantrums, not to mention the fact that she tried to trap one of the other now-married guests into an unwanted marriage. Then you’ve got a nearly penniless Count -- if the rumours are to be believed -- who has debtors breathing down his neck, and you’ve got the reckless, tragically ruined society darling who was so desperate for attention that she risked her own reputation defending him. After she threw herself on society’s mercy for him, what did he do? He disappeared for months on end, then arrived at this house party accompanied by another wealthy young lady, whohas an impeccable reputation and a king’s ransom for a dowry, practically clinging to him like a limpet. What you have here is a recipe for disaster, or some truly delicious gossip, depending on how you want to look at it.”
Lydia stopped dead in her tracks, cocking her head as Lady Rosebury’s soliloquy echoed in the back of her mind. As she mulled the words over, divine inspiration struck.
Lady Rosebury’s words are all but an exact copy of things that have been written and published inThe Society Reporterin recent months, including that delightfully vicious piece about Lady Eugenia, Lydia realised.
She stepped to the side as her mother and Lady Rosebury reached the spot where she’d stopped to think.
Her mother paused, looking Lydia over with a concerned frown.
“Are you quite all right, Liddy, darling?”
“Yes.” Lydia forced a stiff smile, avoiding Lady Rosebury’s gaze. “Just feeling a little lightheaded and paused to catch my breath, that’s all.”
Lady Rosebury seemed to take Lydia’s excuse at face value, and tugged Lady Bellingham back into motion on their way to the parlour where the ladies would play cards. Lydia stared at their retreating backs as the pieces all began to fall into place in her mind.
Not too long ago, during a rather distressing conversation with her father in his study, Lydia had spotted Lord and Lady Rosebury’s names on a list of investors, right alongside her own father’s name. At first, she hadn’t been able to see the name of the company invested in, but the memory of seeing that page onhis desk had driven her insatiable curiosity to the point where she had actually snuck back into his study later that day, just to discover which business it was, that he’d invested in. She’d been shocked to discover that it was a publishing house – one responsible for, among other things,The Society Reporter.
This has to be more than mere coincidence; the phrasing is too exact.Lydia narrowed her eyes, glaring at Lady Rosebury’s retreating back as she continued up the hall. I am certain thatLady Rosebury is dirtying her hands by feeding the writers atThe Society Reportergossip, practically writing the articles for them. That means that Lady Rosebury is actively engaging in working for a scandal sheet. How utterly improper of her! More than that, it’s a leverage point I can, and am willing to, use to get what I want.
What was most amusing of all, Lydia thought, was that Lady Rosebury would, if she had discovered any other member of thetondoing exactly what she was doing, have made sure to utterly destroy their reputation…
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As Lord Seaburyapproached the billiards table, Marco motioned at the set of implements hanging on the wall to the right of the table.
“Maces or cues?”
Lord Seabury considered the question for a moment as the other three men in the room all lit cigars and poured brandies.
“Cues.”
Marco retrieved one of the cues and idly rolled the smooth, glossy wood of the stick back and forth between his palms as he mulled over what had occurred since he’d arrived at the Bellingham Park house party. Something about the introduction between Lady Eugenia and Lady Catherine nagged at Marco. He had been expecting a much warmer welcome from Lady Eugenia after the way that she had treated him the last time they had seen each other at Lady Duncan’s Ball. Why had she seemed so stiff and stilted today? Even over the rather dull dinner, she hadn’t looked at him once. Were his hopes to be shattered, after all?
He blew out a sigh and chewed on his bottom lip, then chanced a sideways glance at Lord Seabury.
“Was your journey to Bellingham Park a pleasant one, Lord Seabury?”
Neville hummed and cocked his head, glancing at each man occupying the room before he returned to Marco, as if considering his words very carefully before he spoke, based on just who might overhear.
“Pleasant enough.” Lord Seabury shrugged and lifted his own cue out of the rack on the wall to the right of the billiards table. He paused long enough to line up his initial shot on one of the two white cue balls and take it, sending the red target ball rocketing around the table, though he didn’t manage to sink it in one of the table’s pockets. “Why?”
Marco grimaced.
“Lady Eugenia seemed a bit... out of sorts just now. I wondered if perhaps your trip here was unpleasant, or if it was something else entirely?”
Lord Seabury arched a brow at Marco and let out a low whistle.
“You don’t know, then?”
