‘My artistic soul pines for the stage, and though this is far from common knowledge, I’m certain that were my circumstances different…’
‘Really, Cordelia, I don’t think your Cheltenham Tragedies are any sort of secret in Bath!’ a sharp tone interjected. ‘Clearly, Mrs Smith is here to enjoy Bath society, and does not wish to be bothered with your theatrical nonsense, am I not right Mrs Smith?’
To her great consternation, Phoebe found herself looking directly into Lady Aurelia’s perfectly peachy countenance. She was wearing the extravagant yellow silk gown that Phoebe had glimpsed in Madame Paragon’s, and even she had to admit it became Aurelia’s golden hair and forget-me-knot eyes very well. Tonight, she’d finished her ensemble with a cloak of midnight blue, set back off her fair shoulders, and a pair of delicate, white kid gloves that Phoebe would never dare wear herself, for fear of them being a completely different colour within the hour. She thought briefly of her scramble down the maple earlier that evening, and bit her lip. Aurelia was undoubtedly a young lady of quality, and the sort of girl who really should marry the earl, and produce a whole troop of purple-faced, onion-scented offspring for his pleasure.
‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss …?’ she murmured, keeping her eyes low as she dipped a curtsey.
‘… Lady Aurelia Carlisle,’ Aurelia supplied airily. ‘Do walk with me a while, Mrs Smith?’
Phoebe exhaled silently. She was certain Aurelia would not be the type to withhold should she have seen through her disguise. She nodded politely, and together they began to perambulate around the busy room.
‘Though you may call me Aurelia,’ she added after a few moments, ‘for I’ve a feeling we’re going to be the best of friends, don’t you think?’
Phoebe smiled, the ratafia creating a safe and fuzzy comfort in her stomach. This was proving easier than she thought.
‘Are you enjoying Bath, Mrs Smith?’ Aurelia continued. ‘I must say, I am finding it ratherennuyeuxafter London.’
She paused to flutter her eyelashes at two young men in gleaming army regimentals, who bowed low as they passed by.
‘These soldiers are such incorrigible flirts, don’t you think?’ Aurelia added, accepting a sherry from a passing footman. ‘One can’t believe a word they say.’ She smiled and held up a kid-gloved hand at a portly gentleman, who was ogling the room.
‘That’s Lord Avery, one of Mama’sdearestfriends… He makes my skin crawl – do you know that feeling?’
Phoebe pictured the earl’s moist, purple lips and nodded. She knew the feeling exactly.
‘Is he your intended?’ she asked tentatively, wondering if she and Aurelia had more in common than she first realised.
‘Good gracious me, no!’ she exclaimed with wide-eyed horror. ‘I’d rather marry a codfish! I mean, he’s offered, and he’s tried to…’ she paused to screw up her nose. ‘…kissme on more occasions than I care to recall. But I’ve been promised to someone far younger and wealthier since the cradle.’
‘Oh well, that’s a relief,’ Phoebe mumbled, wishing she’d taken a glass of sherry when she could.
‘Yes, but I would welcome your advice witha little spot of botherall the same?’ Aurelia continued in a hushed tone.
She glanced around, before turning back with a demure smile.
‘Given you are a married woman of the world, and I merely a debutante?’
‘Married and bereaved,’ Phoebe amended swiftly.
‘And excessively content with it, too, I warrant!’ Aurelia tittered.
‘Oh no,’ Phoebe started awkwardly, ‘it’s just I?—’
‘Don’t worry, I completely understand,’ she reassured, guiding Phoebe into the corridor, before lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘In truth, I know all about the duties of a married woman too.’
She smirked knowingly while Phoebe stared, starkly aware they were now leaving the protective bustle of the Assembly Room, for a quiet corridor with much more lighting.
‘And that it doesn’t always have to bea dutyat all?’ Aurelia continued, bestowing a dazzling smile on a passing gentleman who gazed as though enraptured.
Phoebe stared at Aurelia’s cherry-bow lips, hardly knowing what to think. As Mrs Smith, she’d really only just met the marchioness’s pretty daughter, and yet she seemed determined to share some deep, dark secret that Phoebe had absolutely no desire to hear.
‘Lady Aurelia, much as I’m enjoying this delightful tête à tête, I really should––’
‘I think I may be with child.’
Phoebe blanched, while Aurelia continued to smile as though she’d just confessed a slight headache.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Phoebe whispered.
