There was the guilt again, mingling with frustration. Bridget knew that her sister’s offer was really forherbenefit.
“Lady Susan said that Lady Bridget was in the midst of an amorous congress.”
Bridget glanced at the speak and grimace. “Traitor,” she muttered.
“Do you mean Lord Arlington?” Dorothy whispered as they passed by the haughty marquess. He locked eyes with Bridget and held her gaze which only served to embolden her.
“Yes,” she said in a tone filled with derision. “He is downright despicable.”
“Come now,” Dorothy soothed. “I know how it must have hurt you when he withdrew his attentions last Season, but surely you do not pine for him still.”
Bridget snorted. She continued to glare at the man who had spent many hours chasing her around London ballrooms last spring only to taunt her mercilessly a few months later. “I would not marry Lord Arlington if he were the last gentleman alive.”
Dorothy tsked quietly. “Dear sister, if he means so very little to you, I wonder why you take this opportunity to provoke him.”
“Because he revels in my suffering,” Bridget said through gritted teeth. “He knows that I was smitten with Lord...Lord Fourton.” Her heart ached as she forced herself to spit out that scoundrel’s name. “He...he…”
“Do not speak of that man publicly.” Dorothy placed her hand gently on Bridget’s forearm. Immediately, Bridget felt both cautioned and comforted. “No good can come of reliving his painful rejection.” She squeezed Bridget’s arm lightly. “It will not do to dwell on what came before.”
Before Bridget could decide how to reply, Dorothy released a tremendous sigh—as if she had been holding her breath throughout the entirety of their conversation. Bridget looked up to see Gerard standing beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree.
“There is my husband,” Dorothy said, sounding relieved.
Indeed, Bridget spied Gerard just ahead, standing in the shade of a large oak tree. He gestured animatedly with his hands, seemingly in a delightful conversation with Lady Everleigh, a widow of some fifty years, and a young, fair-haired lady.
“Gerard!” Dorothy exclaimed. She quickened her pace, as she approached her husband. From how she behaved, one might have thought that her husband had been away for years, rather than for only an hour.
A feminine laugh split the air, and Bridget tore her gaze away from her sister, who had at last reached the embrace of her doting husband. Beyond the tree under which Dorothy and Gerard stood, there was a lake. A few members of thetonwere gathered around it, enjoying delicacies and lemonade in the spring sunshine. One figure stood out, though, and that was Lady Susan.
Lady Susan, who claimed that there had been an amorous congress. How wouldsheknow? Lady Susan had not been there that night. Bridget clenched her jaw and curled her hands into the skirts of her pale, yellow gown.
Their eyes met, and Lady Susansmiled.
Scarcely thinking about the consequences, Bridget crossed the expanse of grass and approached the edge of the lake. “Why, Lady Bridget,” Lady Susan said.
She was all smiles and honeyed tones.
“Lady Susan,” Bridget said through clenched teeth.
A gaggle of lords and ladies stood nearby, whispering to one another. They stood too far away for Bridget to hear them properly, but there was no doubt about what—or rather,who—the topic of their conversation might be.
“I had heard that you arrived in London, but I did not really believe it,” Lady Susan said. “I had thought that you might remain in the countryside for—well, in truth—quite longer than you have.”
“How thoughtful of you,” Bridget said.
“Thoughtful?”
“To be so concerned about when I would return,” Bridget explained. “Unless you mean to say that your concern stems from some unkind motivation?”
Lady Susan’s smile thinned. “Well, I need not remind you how the previous Season ended.”
“No, you do not,” Bridget replied coolly. “So why mention it at all? I am certain there must be more pressing matters in the world than my behavior nearly a year ago.”
“One might think,” Lady Susan said. “But I feel the opposite is true. If you are hoping to attend soirees and balls, it is only appropriate to warn people, is it not? What if you capture the affections of some respectable man? He ought to realize the true character of a woman whom he may wish to court, and I would not want some young lady to damage her own reputation by associating with you.”
“As you are now?” Bridget asked.
“I make this sacrifice for the greater good,” Lady Susan said. She lifted her hand that was covered in a thin pair of kid gloves and laid it over her heart. “And besides, you approached me. Everyone saw it.”
