“Did someone hurt you, miss?” Eliza focused on the purple bruise that encircled Ottilie’s wrist.
“It’s nothing.” Ottilie clamped her hand over the bruise given to her by the brute in Hyde Park.
“Is it painful? I am sure we can find some salve for it.”
“Thank you, Eliza, but that’s not necessary. It looks worse than it feels and will disappear in a few days.” She smiled reassuringly at the lady’s maid.
“We’d best put you in a pair of gloves long enough to cover that until it heals. I expect you don’t wish to alarm His Lordship.”
Ottilie allowed Eliza to help her dress and arrange her hair in a simple chignon—an extravagance she typically found unnecessary.
“Shall I put one or two of those pretty pins in your hair, miss?”
Ottilie’s gaze fell to the sparkling hair pins on her dresser.Henry found one of your hair pins on the floor.Jack’s voice sounded in her mind. “No thank you, Eliza. I’m not in the mood for anything fancy today.” She touched her hair and forced a smile. “This will do.”
“Don’t forget the gloves, miss.” Eliza helped Ottilie slip into a pair of tall white gloves, concealing the bruise on her wrist just as her aunt swept into the bedroom.
“I am pleased to see you are ready for supper.” Lady Hudsyn’s gaze flitted from Ottilie to Eliza. “Thank you, Eliza. You may leave us.”
“Yes, Your Ladyship.” Eliza scuttled out of the room.
“I expect you heard Henry will be dining with us tonight.” She lifted the sides of her magenta dress and seated herself next to Ottilie.
“Yes, I was glad to hear it.”
“I trust you remember what we talked about yesterday before you left the house.”
“I do.”
“I expect that from now onward, you will stay away from Mr. Bastin and encourage your cousin to do the same.”
Ottilie pressed her lips together and paused to control her irritation before speaking. “Mr. Bastin is Henry’s friend, and I have no more power to keep him from his friends than you do.”
Her aunt fixed her with a penetrating stare. “How do you suppose Henry would feel about Mr. Bastin if he knew he’d enticed his cousin into spending the night with him?”
Ottilie swallowed. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Her aunt picked up a hairpin from Ottilie’s vanity and turned it over in her fingers.
Ottilie stared at the hairpin. Did her aunt know? Had Lulu betrayed her out of spite or perhaps in the hope of compensation?
“Tell me my dear, what did he say to you? Did he say you were his muse? Did he flatter you with honeyed words and talk of the classics?”
Ottilie felt the color drain from her face. She shifted to face the looking glass and smoothed her hair needlessly, fighting to keep her emotions in check.
Lady Hudsyn’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Aah, I see that I am correct. Your father used those same tactics to seduce your mother and get his hands on our papa’s money.”
Ottilie swallowed the lump of fear in her throat and forced herself to remain calm. “My goodness, Aunt, there is no need to be so cynical. Perhaps my father loved my mother,” she said icily.
“Don’t fool yourself, child. He was too selfish to love anyone besides himself. What he loved was my father’s money.”
Ottilie continued to busy herself with needless primping. Lady Hudsyn was doing her best to rattle her, and she would not fall into her trap.
“I don’t say these things to hurt you. I never intended for you to know the truth about your father, but you forced my hand when you started skulking around with Mr. Bastin.” She plunked the hairpin onto the vanity, and Ottilie’s heart jumped in fear. “If you wish to do so in Canterbury, that is your choice. However, you will not do so under this roof.” Lady Hudsyn stood abruptly. “Now, let us go down to the parlor and speak no more of this.”
Ottilie stood slowly, unable to take her eyes off the sparkling hairpin.
“Are you quite all right, dear? I hope you don’t mean to greet your cousin wearing such a sour face.”
