“We think so,” Abby said, her eyes cool.
“We were just enquiring over Miss Carlow’s absence from society,” Lady Blake said. “Most unusual, and of course the welfare of her and her family during that time had us all worried.”
“I’m sure should she wish for us to know, she’d tell us,” Miss Saint-Bonnard said. She was a beautiful woman with raven-dark hair and intelligent eyes. Beth was surprised she’d spoken in her defense, when surely like the rest of the Deville family, she too hated what Beth had done to Nathan.
“Yes, well, perhaps she is not the only one among us with secrets.” Phillipa Blake smiled, as if the words were meant to be humorous and not a subtle dig.
“Which means what exactly?” Abby’s brows drew together.
“Only that we all have secrets,” Phillipa said, undeterred or simply unaware that Abby was annoyed.
“Indeed. After all, take Miss Saint-Bonnard,” Lady Blake tittered. “She just suddenly appeared, and of course there are rumors—”
“I find a person is lacking in a certain substance of character if they have a constant need to seek out gossip for the rumor mill that runs through society. Don’t you, Phillipa?” Abby said with a smile that would scare every rodent in London back into its hole.
“Oh, well… of course.” Phillipa clearly didn’t agree at all. “I had just wondered.”
“I understand Mr. Haven has shown an interest in you, dear Phillipa?” Abby cooed. “Such a perfect match for you, considering.”
“Considering?” Lady Blake’s tone was shrill.
“Well,” Abby drew out the word. “This is her third season.”
Phillipa turned the color of a tomato, and Lady Blake looked like a codfish, her mouth rounded in shock.
She had absolutely nothing to laugh about, but it was bubbling inside her, and Beth feared if she started laughing, she would be unable to stop.
“I will see what is keeping Mother.” Beth got to her feet and hurried to the door, closing it softly behind her. She walked down to the front entrance and stopped by a window. Opening it, she inhaled deep, steadying breaths.
How had she thought she could do this? Navigating the treacherous and often turbulent waters of society was difficult when you were not trying to hide something. When you were, it seemed an insurmountable challenge.
She longed to leave. Longed to never encounter Nathan again and feel the pain that he was no longer hers. The truth was, it hurt like a sore tooth. An ache so deep, there was no way to soothe it without extraction.
Chapter Seven
“Miss Carlow?”
Dear god!
Clenching her eyes shut, Beth prayed she had simply conjured him up and that when she straightened, Nathan would not be standing there.
He was. His face was bruised.
“What happened to you?” Heart thudding, she’d taken a step toward him before she could stop herself.
“I walked into a door.” His tone was cold, stopping her from advancing.
“Wh-Why are you here?”
“Leonard was not at his post, and the door was open, so I came in.” His eyes ran over her face. “Are you well?” The words were curt and clipped. “Your breathing—”
“Why are you here in my house, Nathan?” She struggled to control the wild thump of her heart. Struggled to reinforce the barriers she’d carefully put in place before returning to London, when she’d known she would be forced to see this man again.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome, he was quite simply the most beautiful man she’d ever known. He always had been, and Beth wondered if he always would be.
If only he had a small deformity she could focus on. A missing tooth or mole on the end of his nose.
“I am accompanying my sister, nephew, and future sister-in-law. Apparently, it is best we are at least seen to be civil.”
