“Aragon, you know perfectly well it is rude to talk across the table.”
“Oh! Sorry, Mother.” He sat back. “I’ll speak to Mrs. Sheraton after dinner.”
Lady Landon’s expression said otherwise. Carenza guessed she would keep Aragon tethered to her side in the drawing room and not allow him to speak to anyone. Lady Brenton turned to Olivia. She spoke quietly, but Carenza could hear every word.
“Is Lord Landon wealthy, Olivia?”
“Not as wealthy as Mr. Laurent, but he does have the title,” Olivia said. “And two very nice houses, one in London and the other in Norfolk.”
“Indeed.”
“I didn’t realize that condolences were in order, Lady Brenton,” Carenza said. “Are you officially a widow?”
“I am not.”
“Oh, I see. You’re merely contemplating adultery again. I do apologize, how foolish of me.”
“It’s quite all right,” Lady Brenton replied. “You’ve never been known for your wit or intelligence, dear, so do not dwell on your shortcomings.”
Carenza set her jaw. “Better to be honest than to betray your friends and family. My conscience is clear.”
“Is it really?” Olivia locked gazes with her. “I’ve always thought that still waters run deep and that you’re not quite as angelic as you appear.”
“True, no one is ‘quite’ that feebleminded,” Lady Brenton muttered.
“I beg your pardon?” Carenza stared at Lady Brenton.
She had the audacity to smile. “I was speaking to Mrs. Sheraton, my lady. One isn’t supposed to talk across the table.”
“Hear, hear,” Aragon said.
Carenza resisted the urge to dump the contents of her wineglass over Lady Brenton’s head. She glanced despairingly at the door. It was only the first evening of the holiday. How on earth was she going to deal with Olivia at her worstandLady Brenton without losing her temper? She was tired of being patronized by both of them.
Allegra caught her eye and mouthed, “Are you all right?”
Carenza nodded and returned her attention to her food, all her pleasure at spending time with Julian destroyed by the unpleasantness of his houseguests. She slowly stopped chewing. But why should she let them ruin it for her? What if she ignored them and simply enjoyed Julian instead?
Eventually, Lady Isobel—apparently taking it upon herself to act as Julian’s hostess—rose to her feet. “The ladies will withdraw to the drawing room and leave the gentlemen to their port.”
Carenza stood and followed Olivia and Lady Brenton into the very pretty drawing room. She sat down next to Maude, who appeared to be struggling to smile.
“What’s wrong?” Carenza whispered to Maude.
Lady Isobel took her place behind the tea tray and started ordering everyone around.
“Gerald and I had an awful argument,” Maude said. “He’s considering returning to France.”
“If he truly is considering such a step, I’d tell him good riddance,” Carenza said.
Maude blinked at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“If he is intent on making you miserable, you’ll be far happier if he isn’t here,” Carenza explained. “Why should you continue to put up with a man who doesn’t value you?”
Maude looked down at her clasped hands. “I thought you’d tell me it was my duty to put up with him.”
Carenza frowned. “I spent years trying to make Hector happy by diminishing myself to fit his petty requirements. It did me no good in the end. He still behaved appallingly, and even worse, he had no respect for me because I allowed him to get away with it.” She looked at Maude. “If Gerald doesn’t understand how hard it has been for you while he’s been away, then you’re better off without him.”
“Those are fighting words, Carenza,” said Olivia, who had come up behind her. “I never thought I’d hear you say such a thing.”
