Chapter Twenty-Seven
The miracle to-day is that we find
A lover true; not that a woman’s kind.
–Love for Loveby William Congreve, 1695
GLYNNIS WASN’T GOINGto be able to go through with it. That horrid thought kept interrupting her, like a pesky bumblebee on a summer day. When she looked at Lord Payton, she felt guilt, not love. And when she looked at James...
She must stop looking at James!
When others came over to chat with the queen, they took their leave of the gracious lady.
“Let us see what the Prince Regent’s cook is serving, shall we?” she suggested, feeling a pang of hunger.
“I’m happy to do whatever you wish.” And the amiable Lord Payton escorted her into the blue room where platters of hors d’oeuvres had been placed. Later, there would be a buffet in the dining room, although there wasn’t room for everyone to be seated, one of the reasons Prince George was redesigning his Brighton home.
And if she married Lord Payton, she would probably be there to see the Pavilion’s growth into a grand palace.
Each with a small plate filled with savories, they strolled outside.
You must tell him,she ordered herself.
Then all would be as before, and she would have to tuck her tail and return to her parents.
She must stay the course, she decided, before instantly changing her mind for the umpteenth time.
“You have the look of a woman thinking a great many thoughts,” Payton remarked.
“Do I? Perhaps it’s simply my appetite.” And in order not to have to speak, she took a bite of this and another of that.
Over the next half hour, she occasionally spotted James talking with nobs or even with ladies, but when the dancing started outside, he headed in the other direction. If she was correct, he was leaving the party astonishingly early.
Would he do so without even saying goodbye?
She partnered with Lord Payton for the first extended cotillion. Each time they came together, she nearly blurted out the awful truth.
Finally, feeling ill with the decision she had to make, she fled the dance floor as the last notes were played, striding toward the aviary. The caged creatures reminded her of her own plight. Should she voluntarily imprison herself in exchange for food and shelter?
“Miss Talbot,” Payton called, following her. “Are you well?”
She turned to him, tears pricking her eyes.
