She took out a fresh piece of cut paper and opened her inkwell. “Now what should I say to Aragon to make him come and see me with all haste?”
“Just say exactly that. He’s very biddable,” Allegra advised. “And very fond of you, too.”
“We’ve discussed that. He’s realized I’m not the right woman for him. I think he’s got his eye on Olivia now.”
“The poor man.”
Carenza looked over at her sister. “You seem somewhat out of sorts with our friend. Has something else happened that I don’t know about?”
“She’s just …infuriatingsometimes. This whole mess with the advertisement is totally her fault, yet she refuses to admit it.”
“So you’ve said.” Carenza returned her attention to the composition of her note. “But she’s always been like that.”
“You are far more tolerant of her nonsense than I am.”
“Possibly because I am in a better position to understand the horror of her marriage to a man old enough to be her grandfather.”
Allegra fixed her with a hard stare that reminded Carenza of their father. “You can’t always make excuses for her.”
“I don’t.” Carenza finished the short note, signed it, and got up to ring the bell. “Do you wish to be here when Aragon visits? I’ve asked him to come around tomorrow afternoon.”
“I don’t wish to be there at all,” Allegra declared, her nose in the air as she got to her feet.
“Then I will make sure that you are not.”
Allegra opened the door and then turned to look at Carenza. “You asked why I don’t trust Olivia, but I’m not sure you’d wish to hear the truth.”
“It’s most unlike you to keep anything to yourself, sister,” Carenza responded. “If there is something you wish to say, please say it.”
Allegra took a deep breath. “I’m fairly certain she was Hector’s mistress.”
“Haven’t we had this discussion before? She is a terrible flirt, Hector was even worse, and they were often together in my company.”
“I saw them together at a house party,” Allegra said in something of a rush. “My bedchamber was next door to Hector’s, and I recognized Olivia’s voice in his room.”
“And where was I when this was supposedly going on?”
Allegra met her gaze. “You were … unwell. It was just before you lost the baby.”
Carenza felt the words like a low blow to her stomach and gripped the back of the chair so hard her fingers hurt.
Allegra frowned. “Now I wish I hadn’t told you. You look as if you’re going to swoon.”
“I’ll be … all right.” Carenza reminded herself to breathe as Allegra’s obvious concern washed over her. “As I said, it was all a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Allegra whispered. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Carenza turned away and concentrated on folding her letter into a neat square even though her hands were shaking.
“Carenza …”
“I can’t talk about this right now.” Carenza was surprised at how calm her voice was.
“All right.” There was a pause in which Carenza devoutly hoped her sister had gone, but there was no such luck. “Can I do anything to help?”
“No, thank you.”
Allegra finally left, and Carenza sealed her note and wrote Aragon’s address on the front in an uneven hand quite unlike her usual script.
