“Are you feeling well, ma’am?” one of the housemaids asked her at one point. She must have noticed the way Ada was dabbing at her brow to remove the perspiration.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she had returned hastily. “I could use a glass of water. It is quite stifling up here, don’t you agree?”
The maid had looked at her curiously, and Ada understood why. With the windows open and a slight breeze wafting through the rafters in the attic, it was actually rather pleasant.
When the afternoon drew to a close, Ada returned to her chambers to bathe and dress. The carriage would be taking her to London within an hour, so she didn’t want to keep the driver waiting overlong. Her eagerness certainly had nothing whatsoever to do with seeing Mr. Clarke again. In truth, her emotions were entirely too raw at the moment. She should kindly decline the offer and remain home for the evening. She still had time to do so.
She stiffened her spine. Ada was many things, but she had never been a coward. If she didn’t face Mr. Clarke and let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she was not interested in his proposal, then that’s exactly what she would do.
She looked through her wardrobe and chose one in lilac. However, this one was satin and had an empire waist with light beading, making it a bit more formal that some of the other gowns that she owned, most of which had never been updated from her days of mourning. For someone who normally eschewed much of anything that had to do with society events, she’d had no need to change her current selection. However, since she wasn’t attending this dinner to impress anyone, what she had chosen was perfectly acceptable.
And the shade did compliment her dark hair.
Heading downstairs, Ada waited only a short time before the carriage arrived. Since she was going to be gone for a time, she had decided it would be best to have one of the other widows in the house act as the current matron. She was standing at the base of the stairs and as Ada put on her cloak and tied the bonnet under her chin, she said to the woman in charge, “I shouldn’t be very late.”
With that, she walked out the door.
Brandt forced himself not to pace the length of the parlor at his townhouse as he awaited the arrival of Mrs. Givens. Already his mother had taken particular note of his distress. “Brandt, really. I don’t think you were this nervous when you set out for Egypt. Exactly how special is this Mrs. Givens who’s coming this evening?”
He forced his leg to stop shaking and regarded her in a sheepish manner. “She is the woman who gave me shelter last evening at Matron Manor—”
Eyes widened, she held up a hand. “Matron Manor? Do you mean the Wicked Widows’ Club?”
He blinked. “You’ve heard of it?”
“Of course, Brandt. I do go out in society and tend to catch wind of the latest gossip.” She rolled her eyes as if he was dimwitted. “Although this particular club has been around for some time. One of the ladies I shared my come out with is a founding member.” As if realizing what she’d said, she asked almost hesitantly, “Exactly how old is this widow?”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Hardly in her dotage.” He lifted a brow. “Besides, if you will recall, this dinner was your idea.”
“Well, yes,” she agreed. “But only because you wouldn’t cease talking about the woman all day. She must have made quite an impression on you.”
He had been hard pressed to forget their torrid interlude in the library. It had replayed over and over in his mind all day. “You could say that,” he murmured.
He happened to glance out the window at that moment, noting the awaited carriage had arrived. In short order, a woman stepped to the ground. She’s here.
Brandt practically leaped to his feet as he waited for her to be announced. His mother remained seated. His father had yet to return from his club, but he had promised to join them by the time dinner had started.
After a few moments, the butler walked inside the parlor. “Mrs. Ada Givens,” he announced in his stoic voice.
She walked in, and everything around Brandt came to an immediate halt. There had been a brief moment when he’d thought that her loveliness had been fabricated in his mind, but if anything, she looked even more beautiful. Of course, he took note of the particular shade she had chosen to wear, the personal armor that was an attempt to put him in his place. She had likely come out of some sort of obligation, but he would bet money that if he were to ask her to repeat the evening, she would politely decline.
That just meant he would have to make the most of tonight.
He walked forward and bowed lightly. “I’m pleased you could accept our invitation.”
She inclined her head. “I was honored. If Matron Manor is known for anything, it is our kind nature.”
And now he understood. She wanted to make sure to lessen any damage that might have arisen toward the Manor. He should be cross that she was using him in such a manner, but then, he was using her for his own gain, so he supposed it wasn’t much different.
With a hand placed gently at the small of her back, he made the introductions. “This is my mother, Lady Althea Clarke, Baroness Effington.”
He watched as the two women appeared to size each other up in a single glance. “I’ve heard many good things about the Wicked Widows’ Club, even though the name might suggest otherwise,” his mother noted.
“Yes,” Mrs. Givens murmured in return. “I fear that was one reason someone in the group thought it would be amusing to play a terrible prank. Just yesterday an advertisement was placed in the paper suggesting that male entertainment was welcome. I spent most of last evening trying to convince the callers who swarmed to our front door that they had been terribly misled. The Manor is a safe haven for widows, and nothing more.”
“Oh, dear.” Brandt’s mother appeared genuinely concerned. “I wonder if Lady Wyndam is aware of the trouble.”
“I wrote to the council as soon as I learned of it and was told that measures were being taken to secure the Manor’s reputation. It would be terribly unfortunate should no one feel safe to apply for membership on account of one person’s mistaken sense of humor.”
