“I do hope so. I hope there is something out there for them that is not the church or military service.”
“Both are honorable professions.”
“True, but I wish we could—”
“Good afternoon, Lady Sculthorpe!”
Judith turned, and Epworth took four discreet steps behind her, gaze pointed to the ground. Epworth might take liberties with her—which Judith allowed and even relied on—when they were alone. Neither would ever reveal such a thing in public. Judith’s eyes widened as her fair-haired lover, Lord Peregrine Gower, approached with a frail slip of a girl at his side. A chaperone—not a maid, most likely a sister or cousin, given her garb—followed a few steps behind them, lips pursed so tightly she looked as if she were about to break into a whistling contest with the birds. The wan beauty next to Perry seemed familiar, however, and Judith greeted them with a smile and a nod. This was hardly the first time she had unexpectedly encountered Perry in public.
“Lord Peregrine. How pleasant to see you! You are looking well today.” Indeed, with his height—well over six feet—and his silk indigo frock coat and top hat, rouged cheeks and kohl-lined eyes, he made quite the luminous sight in the afternoon sun. “I believe we last saw each other at the Huntingdale ball.”Ah,that was it. The girl had been at the ball. Had danced with Perry... and Mark.Judith blinked, turning her attention to the sour-faced miss, whose light-blue frock, slight frame, and pale complexion rendered her almost invisible next to the preening Perry. Even her hair seemed... fragile. As if the wrong turn of her head would cause it to shatter. She clutched her reticule in front of her with both hands, as if terrified the thing would jerk from her grip and skitter away. Judith’s eyebrows arched in anticipation.
Perry leapt into the gap. “Lady Sculthorpe, may I present Lady Carys Morgan.”
Judith smiled at the girl, who could not have been more than seventeen. “Lady Carys. I believe I saw you at the Huntingdale ball as well.”
Lady Carys gave a sharp nod and quick curtsy, then looked up at Perry as she nudged him.
Perry jumped as if the child’s elbow were as sharp as the collarbones protruding from her neckline. “Ah, yes. That is, in fact, where I met Lady Carys. Lord Mark Rydell introduced us. She is a superb dancer.”
Lord Mark’s opinion to the contrary...Judith swallowed a laugh. “I see. And you are already... walking out? In the park?”Do not say it. Do not say it.
A blush started at the top of his cravat, spreading rapidly, a clear recognition of her implication. A young man did not stroll with a young woman in Hyde Park, even with a chaperone, if he did not have serious intentions toward her. Intentions already known to her family. “I—um—I know this may seem very unexpected. Very... sudden.”
Judith gave a dismissive wave. “Not at all. Happens all the time. You meet someone, and you know immediately you will be suited to marry and spend the rest of your life together, forsaking all others.”
Epworth had a sudden coughing fit.
The blush turned blotchy, and Perry tugged at his cravat. “Yes, well, I—um—”
Judith turned a blazing smile on Lady Carys. “Congratulations, my dear, on a successful and beneficial debut season. Lord Peregrine is a fine young man.”
For the first time, the sour expression eased but her words were barely audible. “Thank you, Lady Sculthorpe.”
Judith looked up at Perry. “I most sincerely wish you both all happiness, Lord Peregrine.”
He let out a sigh, and his color almost returned to normal. “I appreciate that, Lady Sculthorpe.”
“I do hope you enjoy your stroll. I will leave you to it.” Judith turned, motioned to Epworth, and resumed her walk. After a few moments, Judith sniffed. “Geese. I really should bring William to see the geese.”
Epworth barked a laugh, then cleared her throat. “He’ll be back.”
Judith shook her head. “The man is simple but not even he is that daft. Infidelity may run rampant through theton, but that does not mean I condone it. And he knows that.” She paused. “I do feel sorry for her, though. He will be on the hunt for a mistress within the year, as soon as he is guaranteed an heir.” Judith turned her steps back toward the gravel path of Rotten Row, where they had left the curricle. “I am starving. One more circuit and I will be in desperate need of an early supper.”
Epworth readily agreed and fell into step, although slightly behind Judith as they approached numerous groups of the Beau Monde out to see and be seen. Judith knew most, greeting a few by name and nodding in deference to those of a higher rank. She had been Countess Sculthorpe for almost twenty years, dowager for the past few months. Most of thetonknew her by sight, as she had been in frequent attendance at Society events since shehad come out of mourning, slowly slipping into the role of one of theton’sdragons—one of those women who held power behind the scenes of the aristocracy. She had been instrumental in Edmund’s courtship of Margaret—she had secured a voucher for one set at Almack’s for Edmund last year and had influenced two of the patronesses to offer one to Margaret and her mother as well. One waltz and one quadrille later, both had been smitten. Judith herself did not attend Almack’s much anymore, but she knew all the players and who to discuss with whom.
Those two patronesses, Lady Jersey and Lady Cowper, in the company of a third woman Judith knew well—Lady Blackwell—approached her now. They looked at her closely, then exchanged glances. They looked again. More glances.
Something was amiss.
Judith resisted the urge to check her gown to see if some untoward stain had appeared. She knew better—Epworth would have raised an immediate alarm if anything about her appearance had gone awry.
Instead, as they grew closer, she heard Lady Cowper’s whispered concern. “We should tell her!”
Judith slowed her steps, dipping her head, determined to let her friends take the lead. “Lady Cowper. Lady Jersey. Lady Blackwell. I hope you are having a pleasant outing today. It is a lovely afternoon.”
“It is indeed.” Lady Blackwell’s expression tightened, although her voice remained calm, friendly.
More glances.
