“I hope you will not find my recalling the association impudent,” she continued, moving closer to Olivia, “But Auggie said that you used to be a maid in our house. A long time ago.”
Auggie. She had forgotten that his family called him by that name. Of course, the younger children wouldn’t remember her.
Why would Augustus bring up such a thing to them? Was it an attempt to humiliate her?
“I was,” she said, trying to carry it off as lightly as she could, “You must find it strange to meet with your former maid here at Almack’s.”
“Oh no!” Petunia said, the girl blushing and shaking her head so that her curls bounced. “That is not what I meant at all. Oh, Auggie will slaughter me, if he thinks that I have been rude! I just—well, there is a rumor that I heard long ago, about my brother, and I have always been so curious about it. But I cannot ask mother or Auggie, of course—it would upset them if I brought it. But I thought you might know. My maid, Valerie, said that it is well known among the servants in our house that my brother was in love with a maid a long time ago. But then she disappeared, and he was heartbroken! I wonder if you knew who she was—you might know, since you worked there when Auggie was younger.”
If Olivia had been speechless before, she didn’t have a word for her state now. The girl seemed to describeher—even though such a thing made no sense. So, perhaps, there had been another maid, before or after. And, then, of course, therehadbeen other maids, she reminded herself. He was the Downstairs Menace. The Ten Guinea Lord. And she had no idea what the girl knew about her brother’s reputation. She must know what he was known for; it was impossible that she would not.
She would have suspected the girl of making some kind of cruel jest, but she saw only questioning in her wide, innocent eyes.
“I am sorry,” she managed, “I know nothing of it.”
“Ah,” the girl sighed, “It was unlikely, of course. I’ve always just been so curious, you see, because Augustus never seems interested in any of the ladies we meet in society. He never has any matrimonial gossip surrounding him—and he is nearly four-and-thirty, you know.” Olivia saw worry flash across the girl’s face. How odd, the girl seemed to have no notion of her brother as the hardened rake of the scandal sheets. She seemed to regard him with some mixture of admiration, pity, and concern. “But I have most probably said too much. Now, you must tell me about Miss Mapperton. Percy seems smitten, along with half of London.”
On much more comfortable ground, she chattered with Petunia for the remainder of the dance. She hoped that pouring this glowing impression of Natasha into Petunia’s ear would help her cause with Percy. Petunia certainly betrayed no sense that the association would be unwanted to her family.
The others returned and soon it was Petunia who departed for the floor on the arm of Nathanial. Elizabeth was almost immediately called away, too, by a gaggle of young ladies with a distinctly bluestocking-ish air to them. Natasha had, apparently, been waylaid by one of the Templeton boys for a dance and Percy had found himself a new partner as well.
That left the uncomfortable trio of Olivia, Eloisa, and Augustus. They all stood stiffly with one another for a moment—but their trio was interrupted almost instantly by a neat-looking man around the age of forty.
“I beg your pardon, madam. I know that I take an unspeakable liberty, but I could not resist,” he said to Eloisa, “I must ask. Are you Eloisa Duras?”
Olivia saw Eloisa start at the use of her maiden name, which she had not used in years.
And then a strange expression broke across Eloisa’s face.
“Alfred Tombey? No!”
“It is me, Eloisa!”
Eloisa made quick introductions between Alfred, Olivia, and Augustus. Olivia saw Alfred start at the mention of Augustus’s title. Olivia vaguely remembered Eloisa speaking about a stable boy named Alfred who had been her friend at her old employer’s. She wondered what Alfred had done to rise in the world and now be a guest at Almack’s.
After a few moments, Alfred quickly led Eloisa away to a quiet corner of the room for a refreshment. And, Olivia suspected, the chance to talk over old times somewhere quieter.
Olivia felt a prickle of anticipation run down her spine as she realized she was now alone with Augustus. Part of her yearned to dance with him and she wondered if he would ask her—but she also knew that they shouldn’t. Not in front of his world at Almack’s. Surely, Augustus’s attention to the family was already drawing enough notice.
She still did not know what to make of what his sister had said.In love with a maid. It seemed to carry some wisp of a story she did not understand but recognized—and, yet, perhaps, it was just a twisted, watered-down version of society gossip.
“Please, will you sit,” a deep voice said, from just behind her ear.
She turned and looked up at Augustus. Part of her still revolted from him. But whatever had happened in their past, he was being undoubtedly kind to the Mappertons now. Didn’t she owe their ally the courtesy of common respect? And, here, in this place, she could not refuse him.
“Yes,” she said, quietly, and let him lead her to a seat a little way off the dance floor.
Once they were situated, he leaned in. “I would ask you to dance, Miss Watson, but I am not sure you would accept.”
“I wouldn’t,” she said, quickly, with more bite than she meant, and she saw his expression fall a fraction, “It would attract too much notice. People will already exclaim at your attention to the Mappertons. It will not help to add me to that list.”
“If you think I care what these people think of me, you mistake my character, Miss Watson.”
His light eyes caught hers and, for a second, she was lost somewhere between their intensity and the kindness of his tone.
“You may not care what they think but the Mappertons and I do not have that luxury.”
He bowed his head, as if conceding her point. “I merely meant that I do not give credence to societal censure. Surely, my blackened reputation confirms at least that.”
