“And Mr. Brogan was kind enough to see her home,” Gwendolyn added.
Lady Byrne’s eyebrows raised in patent disbelief even though she smiled and murmured, “Lovely to have that resolved.” She sat up as if remembering something. “I should share that I’ve heard from your cousin Richard. He was shocked to hear you had taken up residence in London.”
“Who told him?” Elise asked, matching Lady Byrne’s air of feigned dismay.
Her ladyship ignored the mimicry. “He wrote that he has been very worried since the three of you and your aunt disappeared. Can that be true? Would you leave your guardian without a word?”
No one answered. Not even Tweedie.
Lady Byrne shook her head. “You can expect him to arrive in London shortly. He promised that he would come to take the three of you in hand, hopefully before you can further shame your family. This whole incident of walking around in damp skirts in public will certainly cause him further distress.” She stood, her shoulders back, her smile vicious. “That is all I had to share.”
“Then you won’t mind that we don’t walk you to the door,” Gwendolyn said coolly.
Her ladyship laughed. She started out and then paused in the doorway, looking directly at Dara. “Seems some believe Miss Dara was scampering after Mr. Brogan in Lord Morrow’s garden the other night?”
It took all of Dara’s self-possession not to move a face muscle. Lady Byrne couldn’t know. She was guessing.
Tweedie rose and stepped in front of her charges. “I chaperone my nieces properly. I shall not have the likes of you insult them.”
Lady Byrne gave a mocking little shudder as if demonstrating she was not afraid of Tweedie’sthreats, and then left. Out in the hall, Herald already held the door open for her.
The moment the door closed, Elise said, “I hope she chokes on her spitefulness.”
“I will tell Richard this was all my idea,” Dara said.
“I do not believe she said anything to Richard at all,” Tweedie replied.
Gwendolyn looked to their aunt. “What do you mean?”
“Your cousin is the laziest man in Ireland. Do you really think he would spend the money to come fetch you?” Tweedie slowly turned to sit down, her movements stiff. She claimed she was slowing down because of all the late hours. Dara desperately hoped that was true. She couldn’t stand the thought of causing Tweedie pain on top of everything else. Her aunt said, “No, what we should do is hope for the best. It is the only thing we can do.”
“Well,” Gwendolyn said with a shrug, “at least today we don’t need to be worried about gentleman callers.”
She was right. There was no line of callers at three o’clock. There were no knocks on the door. No deliveries of flowers.
Even the letters rejecting them had stopped coming.
At three o’clock, Tweedie suggested a trip to the lending library. “Take Molly with you.”
“I have no desire to go out,” Dara said.
“But you should come with us,” Gwendolyn said. “Tweedie is right. A walk will be good for us.”
“I’m not ready to be seen by anyone,” Dara said. “I’m too uncomfortable.”
“Dara—” Elise started.
“I agree with her,” Tweedie said. “You both go on. Let Dara have a chance to lick her wounds. The world will be waiting for her on the morrow.”
Her sisters put their arms around her. “You didn’t make a mistake,” Gwendolyn said fiercely. “They are the ones who are wrong.”
“Yes,” Elise echoed. “Hold your head high.”
Dara smiled as best she could. She valued their support. She was also keenly aware that she would be highly annoyed if one of them had caused her to be banished from Society. The realization was humbling.
Her sisters left with Molly to walk to the library. Dara had a stocking to darn, but she had trouble focusing on the task.
She’d done nothing wrong. She would jump into the Serpentine to save the child a second time if need be. Still, that the fashionable of London wished to believe she, of all people, would dance around in public half-naked was annoying. She felt herself start to move from grief to frustration. The gossip was unfair, and cruel.
