Regaining her feet, Beth shook out her hands and walked in circles. She could do this, had to do this. It would be over as soon as she’d achieved what she must.It had to be.
Inhaling a deep, steadying breath, she released it slowly. Leaving the room, she approached the parlor where she knew the Blake ladies would be. Entering with a smile on her face, she greeted the occupants.
“How lovely of you to call, Lady Blake, and your daughters,” Beth gushed.
The Blake women were all alike in looks. Blonde hair, flawless complexions, and brown eyes. There the similarities stopped. Phillipa, the eldest, and her mother were like any proper society ladies who spent time doing things that proper ladies should. Mary was more interested in learning from the copious number of books she read and walking about in paddocks or parks. She did not suffer fools and rarely flirted with or flattered men.
Today Phillipa wore pink, with three rows of flounces at the hem and one at the bodice, and Mary white. Hers had roses embroidered all over it. Large ones.
“Of course we had to call, dear Miss Carlow.”
Her mother had not arrived yet. Beth hoped she did so soon as she had a feeling she was about to be interrogated.
“How wonderful that you did, as you have saved me from dreary letter writing,” Beth said, moving to take the seat next to Mary.
“We are of course pleased you are back with us, Miss Carlow,” Phillipa simpered. “We cannot imagine what kept you from us for so long.”
“I have brought you a book,” Mary said, much to her family’s annoyance.
“Wonderful! Beth said with far more enthusiasm than was required. “I have little to read at the moment and had planned a trip to the lending library.”
“Everyone is readingCaptain Broadbent and Lady Nauticus, but I doubt you have, so here is the first one.” Mary handed it to her.
“For pity’s sake, Mary, we are not here to talk about books,” Phillipa trilled. “And your dear father, Miss Carlow. One hopes he is well?”
“A slight inflammation of the chest, Lady Blake,” Beth lied. She and her mother had prepared what they would say.
“And what have you been doing for so long out of society?” Phillipa continued to dig for information.
Leonard appeared in the doorway. “Lady Abigail, Master Tobias Dillinger, and Miss Saint-Bonnard,” he said looking happy about the prospect of yet more callers. Beth felt her stomach revolt.
“How wonderful!” Phillipa clapped her hands, excited at the prospect of two more ladies supporting her cause in pursuit of answers as to the mysterious years the Carlows were missing. Especially as one was Nathan’s sister.
“But who is Tobias Dillinger? A cousin, perhaps?” Lady Blake said looking excited at the prospect of another eligible male to hurl her daughters at.
Excellent, more questions.
“This must be an extremely painful time for you both,” Lady Blake crooned.
“Why?” Beth kept her expression calm.
“Well, you did flee London suddenly, and at a time it was widely known you and Mr. Deville—”
“Mother,” Mary said looking disgusted again. “That was years ago, she has moved on.”
The door opened again before anyone else could speak, and in walked the Deville party. Abby entered first, dressed in deep red; next came Miss Saint-Bonnard in emerald. Both women looked wonderful, confident, and everything Beth was not feeling. Abby carried a small child in her arms.
“A child!” Lady Blake gasped as if a rodent had entered the room.
“Indeed, he is a child, and mine as a matter of fact,” Abby Dillinger said, moving to take a seat after greetings were exchanged. “Is there a problem with Tobias being here? Surely at six months old he cannot set you twittering. I mean he is handsome, but—”
“Of course not,” Lady Blake interrupted. “It is just not what one expects when paying a morning call.”
Beth looked at the baby. He was beautiful. Slumbering in his mother’s arms, his eyelashes rested on his cheeks, and a little rosebud mouth was open.
Would the child she’d longed for with Nathan have looked like this?
“He is beautiful,” Beth said.
