She braced her temples on her fingertips, resting her elbows on the dressing table. Solly was friendly with many of Fanny’s staff, and had an ongoing flirtation with Fanny’s forbidding coachman, Gaynes. Solly must know all about that night, years ago, when Evangeline had brought a famous explorer back to Fanny’s house for a night of debauchery and then slipped out while he still slept in Fanny’s guest chamber. Solly most certainly knew about the other day, when Evangeline had lounged for hours in the bathhouse with that same explorer, whojust so happened to be their new neighbor, and left the whole bathhouse in wanton disorder.
Evangeline didn’t think she had any secrets from Solly.
“Yes, it would be unpardonably rude. But I shouldn’t do this,” she moaned.
“No? Why not?” Solly picked up a discarded gown and began to smooth it back into order.
“Somany reasons, Solly!”
The other woman sat down on the chaise nearby and regarded her with compassion. Few ladies would allow their maids such familiarity, but Solly was no ordinary maid. Born in Jamaica, Solly had run away from the plantation where she was raised by pretending to be a young man and getting herself hired on as a sailor on a trading ship. She wasn’t discovered until a rope caught on her hand and mangled two of her fingers, which had to be amputated. She still maintained they gave her bad rum while the ship’s doctor worked, which made her violently sick and betrayed her secret.
Evangeline had met her working at a London hat shop, where the tall, statuesque Solly had a keen eye and an infallible knack for hitting on precisely what a lady needed to hear to be overcome with desire for a particular bonnet. When Solly had remarked that Evangeline needed nothing so dramatic as the fussy plumes and wax cherries then in vogue, because she had dramatic coloring and height already, Evangeline had offered her a position on the spot. It had been barely a year since Court’s shameful end, and she’d admired—and envied—Solly’s proud carriage and forthright manner.
Solly had quickly become much more a companion than a maid. She, of all people, knew about Evangeline’s doubts and fears. Evangeline had told her to always speak her mind, and Solly had never disappointed her. Cowed her a few times, and occasionally made her feel guilty, but never disappointed her.
“What are these reasons?” Solly asked gently now. “This is an eminently proper invitation. Mrs. Murray is very respectable. You have done nothing wrong in accepting it. Nor has he, as far as anyone knows.”
“There is more to it than that.”
“And will that color everything you do, for the rest of your life?”
Evangeline arched a brow at her. “One dinner party is hardly coloring the rest of my life.”
Solly raised one shoulder. “Who knows which moments may be discovered, upon looking back, to have been important turning points along our path?”
Evangeline was fairly certain she had seen some stark turns in her path coming from a long way away. Too bad it hadn’t helped her avoid them all. “Yes, one can only know for certain after the turn has been taken. What if this turn leads down a path I don’t wish to travel?”
“Yes, indeed, this current path has brought you naught but joy and fulfillment,” said Solly in the same calm, easy manner. “Who would dare to dream of veering off it?”
Solly would never be frightened by a dinner party. Evangeline began to feel silly and childish. “It’s more a question ofwhichturn to choose, when deciding to veer off.”
Solly tilted her head and gave her a look. “Come, madam. There is only one direction worth veering toward.”
That was true. To one side was a handsome man who seemed fascinated by her, who made her laugh and brought her absolute bliss in bed. To the other side... she didn’t even know what was on the other side of her current path. Strict attendance at church, perhaps, and a dedication to self-righteous charitable causes. Obviously she would not be taking that path.
Could she be any more ostracized? Perhaps. Was it more painful than she could bear, after all these years of becoming hardened to it? Definitely not.
“You,” she said to Solly, “have an uncanny way of telling me that I’m being a coward and a fool, without using either of those words. How do you do it?”
Solly grinned. “If a woman knew, at the moment she must make a decision, that it was a foolish decision, she would never make that choice. It is all hindsight that persuades us that it was foolish, or not, even when our own actions after the choice are far more likely to blame or to credit.” She lifted her hands philosophically. “And many times, it is only doubt that persuades us we have erred. ‘I should have done differently,’ we tell ourselves, only because we don’t know how things might have gonehadwe chosen differently.”
Evangeline laughed. “Fair enough. Yet the charge of cowardice stands, I take it?”
Solly got to her feet. “Feeling cowardly is not a shame, or a sin. Onlyactingit.”
“Would that I could send you tonight as my representative,” she replied dryly.
The other woman chuckled. “I would find it no trial to share a table with the famous Richard Campion!” She heaved a sigh. “I shall content myself with beating Mr. Gaynes at chess, if he will deign to come inside and try his hand again.”
“I have no doubt of that,” said Evangeline wryly. Fanny reported with glee that Gaynes grew tight-lipped and crimson-cheeked whenever Solly was mentioned.
Her smile lingered as she stared at herself in the mirror. Yes, she was being a fool—but she was not a coward. Her butler tapped at the door to say that Lady Woodville had arrived. Evangeline gave herself a mental shake, clasped on her pearls, and went down to meet her friend.
“Ready to face the enemy?” Fanny said in amusement.
“Are you friend or foe tonight?” Evangeline shot back.
Fanny paused in the act of inspecting her gown. “Friend,” she said. “And as a friend... are you really wearing that?”
