“And what of love?” Lady Demsworth asked him, glancing to me. I turned forward in my seat, staring at my hands in my lap.
Peter exhaled. “Love is a topic all its own. But I agree with Miss Moore. It is not guaranteed. Only the luckiest among us will have it. And once it is found, it should be most aggressively fought for.”
I felt his stare upon my back, but I was unwilling to meet his eyes. If Peter meant to imply that he would not easily relent his scheming to secure Sir Ronald for Georgiana, he did not intimidate me in the least. Though I did not believe that love took precedence over practicality, loyalty most certainly did, and Clara’s happiness was my top priority.
“At any rate, I am sure our sex thinks of little else, lest we all become spinsters or governesses,” Beatrice interjected with a giggle.
I took no amusement from the thought. The possibility was too real and too clear on my horizon to jest. Why on earth had we chosen a topic about marriage and love in the middle of a house party?
“Thank you all for your thoughts,” Lady Demsworth said. “I think I know just what to say to him.”
Him?So Lady Demsworth’s friend was a man? I turned, finding Sir Ronald and Clara still at their settee at the front of the room. They had abandoned the book entirely, moved even closer together, and were in deep conversation. Clara smiled, giggling about something, which brought an even bigger smile to Sir Ronald’s lips. Anyone with eyes could see the two of them were already a pair. The only advice Lady Demsworth’s son needed was a push forward. Unless Lady Demsworth disagreed with his choice. Perhaps I would speak to her, try to encourage the union by offering my opinion onthatmatter.
“... worshipped her. They only knew each other a week before he proposed,” Georgiana said. I’d been half-listening enough to know she spoke of her parents. “It was the grandest engagement. He invited everyone he knew to a dinner party the next day.”
“How romantic!” Beatrice beamed. “I love these sorts of stories.”
Georgiana stared at me with unexpected ice in her eyes, and I was taken aback by the cold feeling between us. Had I missed something? “My mother would never remarry. She has only ever loved my father.”
Peter coughed audibly, and Georgiana cast him an equally sharp stare.
Beatrice sat lost in thought, as though contemplating her own engagement, what it would be like, and how she would react.
“Do tell us your parents’ story, Miss Moore.” Georgiana cleared her throat. “Theirs is the only one we have not yet heard. I am sure it is most intriguing.”
I became acutely aware of Peter shifting in his seat behind me. Knowing he was listening made the story even harder to tell. My parents did not have a love story like the Turnballs or even the Demsworths that, though arranged, at least resulted in happiness.
“Oh, no, it is not exciting,” I said, sitting straighter and rubbing my hands on my skirts. A pit settled into my stomach, just like it did every time Lord Gray brought up my father. “They met one night at a ball, just like many before them and many since.”
“I do love a good ball,” Beatrice added dreamily.
“Go on. There must be more,” Georgiana pressed. Her voice was too eager. It was as though somehow Georgiana saw my discomfort, knew the words on my tongue were not easily shared, and yet she willed me to speak. Willed me to admit that my parents’ marriage did not happen out of love or even arrangement. She couldn’t know of something that had happened so long ago and so far away from here. Still, I would not give her the satisfaction of embarrassing me. I could not hide from the truth. One way or another, it would find its way out.
“They shared an accidentally public kiss,” I said, staring straight into her eyes. I would not tell her that they’d only just met. That Father barely knew her. That both their hearts were hurting that night, both searching for solace in a friend.
“How scandalous,” Georgiana breathed, looking about the room. “How humiliating.”
“Georgiana,” Peter said low, almost warningly.
It was then that I realized that Lady Demsworth and Mrs. Turnball were watching me with interest. What would they think of my admission? No matter what Lord Gray’s position was in society, Clara and I would never be able to escape the truth of our parents’ scandal. At least this way, I could control how the story was told.
“Perhaps for them it was. But they married, and I have much to thank them for, so I find no humiliation in the admission,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Of course not.” Lady Demsworth’s eyes were kind, her voice soft. “It seems to me that whatever scandal resulted was well worth a few months of gossip. You and your sister are a delight.”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Turnball said with just as much kindness.
Georgiana’s sharp gaze grew contemplative as she searched the faces in our circle. “Truly? Is there no consequence for scandal?”
Beatrice fluffed out her skirts. “I find their story to be quite romantic. Two people in love who couldn’t help themselves. In the end, what is a few months of gossip compared to a lifetime of happiness?”
Happiness. How I wished that kiss had given my parents some semblance of it.
Georgiana chewed on her lips, quiet and uncommonly reserved. The fire crackled in the hearth, warming me from afar. I couldn’t remember the last time talking of my parents had resulted in such a feeling of fullness, of strength. They once had to make impossible choices. If only they were here to guide me now.
Conversation continued as our circle opened to include the remainder of our company. More stories were told of worse scandals than my parents’, including embarrassing proposals and courtship stories famously repeated in gossip circles. Lady Demsworth caught my eye, and I wondered how we’d come to have such a strange, casual conversation tonight. Who was her mysterious friend? Was he in this very room?
That night as I lay in bed listening to Clara’s even breathing, I thought of Father’s old stories from my childhood. He’d tuck Clara and me in our beds and tell ushisversion of when he first met our mother.
