Lorelei steadied her breathing and her hands before attempting to pour out a cup of tea for her friend. Morning sun filled the room, threatening another blinding headache. The brightness was in direct competition with the cheery yellow walls and spring-green fabric covering the settee and padding on the chairs.
She handed over Ginny’s cup. “Somewhere in the vicinity of three this morning.” The clock had posted three thirteen with forty seconds to spare. She hadn’t slept another wink after his attempt at the connecting door.
“I don’t think he had any idea you’d already left by the time he arrived last night.” Ginny sipped her tea. “Are you going to enlighten me? You looked as if you’d seen a ghost. I was most concerned.”
Lorelei could hardly stand to think of Thorne with that woman, let alone put the words to voice. How did one tell one’s friend, even one’s closest friend, that her husband had fathered a child with another woman? A woman everyone believed to be hispreviousmistress, but was indeed his current mistress. She bit back bile. Her marriage truly was over.
She steeled her resolve with a deep breath. “I’m leaving Thorne.”
“What?That’s impossible. Women can’t leave their husbands—”
Lorelei held up her hand, palm out. “Please, Ginny, lower your voice.”
“I refuse to believe it,” she sputtered. “Y-you love your husband. He’s nothing like Maudsley. Nothing…” This ended on a whisper.
Despair and guilt pierced Lorelei. Ginny’s husband was renowned for his debauched nature, his utter lack of consideration and respect for his wife. Thorne had never disrespected her—until last night. “Not only did he put my brother on a ship bound for Spain in the middle of a war, he… he’s fathered—never you mind. It’s just over, that’s all.”
Ginny’s widened eyes quickly shifted to understanding, then pity. The door to the morning room swung back.
Thorne, her too-handsome husband, waltzed in, acting as innocent as one pleased. Fury rushed her veins. Gallingly, he sauntered over and laid his lips on her cheek. “Good morning, my dear.” Minty breath teased her nostrils, his whisper flashing heat against her ear.
She flinched.
He straightened and bowed in Ginny’s direction. “Lady Maudsley, how lovely to see you, and so early. Did you not stay long at the Peachornsby rout? I lost sight of you after your short visit with Lord Griston.”
Lorelei shuddered at this information. Lord Griston was decidedly worse than Maudsley, though her reasoning was strictly one of intuition.
Ginny’s over-bright laughter filled an awkward silence. “Oh, Lord Kimpton, how amusing you are. We were there until the early morning hours, of course.”
Lorelei hid a slight smile. The “we” Ginny spoke of was Ginny and her drunkard of a husband.
“And how are the girls?” Thorne asked. With compressed lips, Lorelei watched him turn the charm on her friend. The man was a menace.
Voice dropped, eyes softening, Ginny said, “Irene and Cecilia are very well. Thank you for asking, my lord.”
Though tempted to roll her eyes at this blatant form of flattery, Lorelei dared not. Ginny’s children were four years apart in age, and she’d suffered four pregnancy mishaps between. Both males. Lorelei’s greatest fear was Lord Maudsley blaming Ginny for their deaths, since she’d yet to provide the earl with the requisite heir.
Ginny had never confided such, but Lorelei worried for her friend. Maudsley’s previous marriage was no secret, though no one spoke of the poor woman’s sad demise through childbirth when both mother and newborn daughter had perished. On occasion, Lorelei would catch a glimpse of bruises on Ginny’s wrists or forearm when the sleeve of her frock rose when reaching for a plate or her tea. Lorelei had no idea how to raise the topic, longing to express her concern.
“You must feel free to bring them by anytime,” Thorne was saying, jolting Lorelei back to the conversation.
Ginny blinked quickly, eyes shimmering suspiciously.
“More tea, Ginny?” Lorelei said, furious with Thorne. Why was he prolonging the inevitable? He was quite aware she would be leaving in two weeks.
Ginny tapped her serviette against her lips. “No. No, thank you, Lorelei—”
Snatching her hand, Lorelei begged with her eyes.Don’t leave yet, please.
A bright smile lifted Ginny’s lips. “Shouldn’t we be going, my dear, if we are to see the latest in Bertin’s hats and beat the crush on Bond Street?” Her amber eyes spoke volumes.
A depth of emotion rushed Lorelei, forcing her to swallow past the lump in her throat, moved by her friend’s unwavering loyalty. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’d almost forgotten.”
Ginny turned to Thorne. “Bertin’s nephews send the latest fashions from Versailles, you know.”
Thorne blinked under the assault of her friend’s wide smile. Lorelei disguised a burst of laughter behind a muffled cough.
“Ah, of course.” Was that disappointment that flashed in his eyes? Of course it was. He had but a fortnight to win over her affections. “A man knows his place when it comes to a woman and her hats,” he said.
