“Very good, my lady.” The butler bowed respectfully, but did not take his leave.
“Was there something else?”
“ ’Tis early in the day. If additional flowers arrive—”
“Have Mrs. Hopkins sort it out,” Meredith interrupted. She drew in a deep breath and modulated the tone of her voice. “Just make certain I receive the cards accompanying each bouquet.”
This time the servant did not hesitate. He left the room the moment she ceased speaking. Meredith sighed. Perkins was a competent butler. He had been with the family for almost twenty years. The very last thing she wanted to do was upset him.
She wondered what subtle thing she could do to smooth his ruffled feathers. Though the feelings of one’s servants were hardly a weighty problem, Meredith indulged in sorting through options to overcome it. For it kept her mind focused on other, less personal matters.
But she had little time for contemplative thinking. Throughout the morning she was interrupted by either the butler or a footman informing her of a delivery of flowers.An even dozen bouquets, with accompanying cards, had arrived by luncheon, fifteen by early afternoon. Meredith smiled wanly each time a servant entered the drawing room, determined not to take her agitated mood out on the messenger.
“A caller, Lady Meredith,” the butler announced in a stiff tone that let her know he had not yet forgiven her for her earlier actions.
Meredith went still and frowned at the butler. She gingerly lifted the gold embossed name card resting ominously in the center of the silver salver. Her fingertip flicked the turned down edge of the card, signifying that the caller was in fact here and had not sent a servant in their stead to deliver a message.
Lady Olivia Dermott.Meredith nearly choked when she read the name. “Has she been here long?”
“She just arrived.”
“Tell her I will see her shortly,” Meredith instructed. “Then wait a full ten minutes before showing her in.”
Meredith picked up the book of poetry she had begun reading earlier and tried to once again immerse herself in the words. She was not successful.
“How good to see you,” Lady Olivia proclaimed, approaching Meredith with a blatantly false, sugary smile pasted upon her face. “I know it is early for afternoon callers, but I confess I was hoping to catch you alone. Now we shall have a chance for a little private tête-à-tête. There is so much to talk, about!”
Meredith nearly laughed incredulously. Lady Dermott had always been one of her most vocal critics. With three daughters to marry off, the older woman had viewed her as a rival and an irritant. In fact, two of the three men who had eventually married her daughters had first proposed to Meredith.
And, if Meredith remembered correctly, Lady Olivia’s third son-in-law was one of the many gentlemen who had sent her a bouquet of flowers this very morning. Indeed, Lady Olivia was the very last person Meredith would ever consider sharing a confidence with or revealing anything of a personal nature.
“I suppose I must consider it flattering to be an object of such interest to you. One would think you had more important and significant issues to occupy your thoughts.” There was no mistaking the mockery in Meredith’s voice, but Lady Olivia was not a woman known for her wit or wisdom, and the barb fell short of the mark.
“I am not the only one with an eye on you, Lady Meredith.” Lady Olivia cast a sly glance about the room. “I gather from the many bouquets of fresh flowers decorating the hall and the drawing room that you have attracted a gaggle of male admirers. Or are they perhaps all from one special gentleman?”
“One admirer? He would have to be either very rich or very overbearing,” Meredith mused.
Lady Olivia tittered. “’Tis said the Marquess of Dardington can be most forceful—if necessary.”
A wave of frustrated anger washed over Meredith. She suspected the news would spread quickly, but had valiantly hoped there might be some other juicy scandal that would at least share the spotlight. Instead it seemed as if all the attention would be centered squarely at her.
Meredith knew charm could be a formidable weapon. She had seen other women, most notably Lavinia, use it to their advantage many times before. Yet Meredith knew herself well enough to realize she had neither the stomach nor fortitude to try and charm Lady Olivia.
“For the life of me I cannot understand why you would care, but if you really must know, I received no flowers from the marquess today. Nor yesterday,” Meredith quickly added, before the question could be asked.
That statement stopped Lady Olivia cold. Her eyebrows lifted at least half an inch as she viewed a lush bouquet of roses in full bloom. “These are all from other gentlemen?”
“Yes.”
“It would seem a person in your position would be more mindful of the risks they were taking.”
“Risks?” Meredith leveled a somber look at the older woman. “Whatever are you implying?”
A snide little smile spread over Lady Olivia’s face. “Even a woman of your advanced years must be concerned with her reputation. ’Tis bad enough you arranged an assignation with the Marquess of Dardington in Lady Dermond’s garden last evening. It would not be in your best interest to now encourage the attentions of so many different men. It gives rise to all sorts of unsavory speculation.”
“Speculation?”
“As to your character,” Lady Olivia replied promptly. “And your morals.”
