“My lady, there is someonehere to see you.”
With ample fear, Amelia looked at the door from her seat at the pianoforte. The mid-morning sun coming through the windows bathed the bottom half of the maid’s dress with light.
“Thank you, Ann. Who has come?” Amelia was afraid to know the answer.
“Lady Bowcott, my lady.”
It was not Edith, thank goodness. She indicated that Ann should have Coombs show Lady Bowcott in and have tea sent up. The maid curtsied and left to do her mistress’s bidding.
In the silence between Ann’s departure and Lady Bowcott’s arrival, Amelia stood, brushed invisible dust from her dress, and sat on a settee. Then she stood again and moved to an armchair situated by the window. But there was not a convenient table nearby for the tea, so she returned to the settee.
Lady Bowcott had expressed an interest in getting to know Amelia at their dinner party, but Amelia had thought it more a thing people said, not something that would actually be followed through on. Nerves itched their way up her spine, making it hard to sit still. Would the woman treat her with disdain? After Lord Norwich had been so upset she had invited them, Amelia had made the connection that this was the woman her husband had tried to marry last Season. Edith’s reasons for heavily encouraging Amelia to invite them had become clear. Would Lady Bowcott now inform her that Lord Norwich had never gotten over his love of Lady Bowcott herself? Or could she truly be making a simple social call? Likely the latter, but the mind did not always choose the mostlikelyreason. Generally, it chose the most terrifying. And Amelia was terrified she was about to receive yet another set down. She took a deep breath, attempting to steady her hands. It would not do to spill tea all over the countess.
“The Countess of Bowcott, my lady.”
Amelia stood as the regal woman entered.
“Lady Bowcott, I am so pleased you have come to visit.”
The dark-haired Lady Bowcott smiled kindly and a bit shyly, calming Amelia’s nerves somewhat. “I hope you do not mind the lack of warning. I was surprised to find my morning free and could not think of a better way to spend my time.”
Amelia struggled to keep the surprise from her face. “I do not mind in the least. Please, sit down.”
Lady Bowcott’s tasteful pink dress puckered slightly as she sat, and she smoothed out the wrinkles with a gloved hand while speaking. “I have not seen much of you since your dinner party.” It was a statement, yet it begged to be answered.
“Yes, I admit I am not particularly enthusiastic over London Society. We did attend a musicale just yesterday though.”
Lady Bowcott offered a commiserating smile. “Ah, I hear it was quite the event! We did not attend, however, as I am of the same mind as you regarding the enjoyments of theton. We would have delayed our arrival this Season, except that Lord Bowcott is new to his title and felt it necessary to immerse himself in the politics as soon as possible.”
“My condolences.” Amelia blushed at her own forwardness, but Lady Bowcott only chuckled slightly.
“Thank you.”
Silence fell for a moment, tense and awkward as only silences between new acquaintances could be.
“You fill your role wonderfully, though, you should know,” Amelia said. “My sister told me of a ball of yours she attended. She said it was simply exquisite.”
“Thank you. That is very kind. Most of Society sees the successes of others as their own failures, so I truly appreciate finding someone who does not feel that way.”
“And I appreciate finding someone who sees the underlying frustrations of Society,” Amelia responded, feeling suddenly at ease.
The tea arrived, and Amelia poured for them both, handing her guest a cup once it was prepared. Not once did the dishes clatter together, and for that, Amelia sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
“Is this your first Season then?”
“Yes, I ought to have come out last year, in all honesty, but my sisters wished me to delay a Season.” Amelia shifted in her chair.
“This is my third Season but certainly the best so far. I have Lord Bowcott to thank for that.”
“You two seem well matched,” Amelia observed, blowing lightly across her cup.
A smile flitted across Lady Bowcott’s lips. “I cannot imagine marriage to anyone but him. My life is infinitely better with him in it.” Lady Bowcott ducked her head slightly as if the admission embarrassed her.
“I am sure his is as well. I could tell as much just from the simple interactions I witnessed at our dinner.”
Lady Bowcott smiled gratefully at Amelia, then lifted her drink to her mouth. Amelia felt a surprising pang of longing. What would it be like to share a love like the Bowcotts had? At the same time, she experienced the lightening sensation of relief. Clearly, Lady Bowcott was not enamored of Lord Norwich. It did not follow that Lord Norwich was not still holding a torch for Lady Bowcott, but the fact that his admiration would not be reciprocated was a consolation of sorts.
“Do you play then?”
