She clutched her diamond bracelets. “Am I wearing too many jewels?”
“Nonsense,” he said, and kissed her gloved hand once more. “May I escort you to the party?”
“Afraid I’ll lose my way?”
“I am more afraid that I’ll lose you.” His words were lightly spoken, but she sensed the sincerity behind them. She had tried to forget the tree branch from early that day, but she couldn’t.
Not knowing what to say, or even how she felt, Cordelia placed her shaking hand on his arm. He grinned at her, and he looked very much like himself and ever so much less refined. When they entered the sitting room, there were already many guests present, including Lois in a stunning champagne-colored gown, with enormous puffed sleeves and a neckline that showed plenty of décolleté. She waved and smiled but continued talking to the handsome young prince. Prince Albert Louis had dark brown hair that curled and had bright blue eyes. The clipped mustache over his full red lips gave him a French look.
Cordelia’s hand tightened on Thomas’s arm. She’d never been “out” before, and she felt nervous to be at her first adult party. She wished she was back in New York among her friends that were her own age, instead of this older, more sophisticated crowd. Thomas stopped to talk to his other aunt and uncle, Oliver’s parents, the Duke and Duchess of Oxenbury.
She felt a touch on her shoulder. She turned to see Stuyvesant standing behind her. It was comforting to see a familiar face and he was dressed just as smartly as any present in his dark coat with tails.
“Cordy, may I have a word?”
She pulled at the earring that was pinching her right ear. “Of course,” she said, and let go of Thomas’s arm and slowly followed Stuyvesant to stand by the grand piano. Her body felt strangely heavy, and it had nothing to do with the weight of her many jewels.
“I’ve never seen you look more beautiful,” he whispered.
She felt herself go pink with pleasure. “Thank you.”
“I have travelled halfway around the world for you. And I would go to the ends of the earth for you.”
“But it’s too late,” she said softly, hanging her head low and staring at the tiles on the floor.
Stuyvesant tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away, looking over her shoulder at her husband. His acorn eyes were watching them. Watching her.
“It’s not too late.”
She weakly held up her hands to stop Stuyvesant from touching her. “I’m already married.”
“You can get a divorce,” he said. “Your mother did, and we can go back home together like this never happened.”
His gaze was so piercing in its intensity that she had to lower her own eyes again. She felt dizzy with fatigue. “I can’t just leave.”
“You can get a divorce when we get back to New York.”
Her broken heart pinched. “English law does not recognize American divorces,” Cordelia whispered. “I would still be married to him.”
“Then get an English divorce! You were married under duress. Your mother forced you into it.”
“It’s not that simple in England,” she said, briefly looking at his dark eyes. “For a wife to get a divorce, I would have to prove that my husband was cruel or deserted me. Neither of which is true.”
“Then ask Lord Farnham to divorce you,” he pressed.
Casting a glance at Thomas, she saw that his gaze was still on her. On them. What would he say if she asked him? Would he beg her to stay? Or would he finally feel free of an obligation he never wanted to have in the first place? He would be free to marry Penelope.
Thayne opened the door and announced dinner. She had to go. She couldn’t think about Stuyvesant now.
“You’re Lucy’s escort.” She left Stuyvesant without another word, or a look, to find Thomas. She needed to be by his side for the procession into dinner. It was another British tradition that you entered the dining room according to your rank. But when she saw Thomas, his aunt Lady Oxenbury was already holding on to his arm.
Cordelia bit her lip, unsure of what to do or whose arm she was supposed to hold. She felt a small push in the middle of her back. She turned to see Lois on the prince’s arm. She pointed for Cordelia to go to Lord Oxenbury at the front of the procession. As a duke, he held the highest rank of any man present (for Prince Albert Louis was only the heir to a duke). Cordelia walked quickly to his side. Lord Oxenbury offered her his arm with a kind smile. He was a portly man, with a shock of white hair and a long gray beard.
Lord Oxenbury led the procession with dignity that Cordelia hoped one day to possess. He assisted her into her seat at the center of the table, for the Prince and Princess of Wales adopted the custom of sitting at the center of the table, instead of the ends. He sat on her right and Lord Grimsby sat on her left. Stuyvesant was at the end of the table, sitting next to Lucy and Penelope, who was smiling behind her fan at him. She sighed. She was stuck sitting between two old men for no better reason than birth. In every other way they were most unsuitable dinner companions, based on age, interests, and even personalities. It was going to be a quiet dinner.
She consoled herself with the fact that the long dining room table looked exquisitely lovely with a dozen vases of pink Malmaison flowers. It made the room feel fresh and airy, like a spring garden. Interspersed between the flowers were pyramids of succulent fruits: peaches, raspberries, pears, and grapes. In the center of the table was a silver epergne statue, which quite blocked her view of Thomas, who was sitting across from her. The two women at his side were both of his aunts: Lady Grimsby and Lady Oxenbury.
“How did I do?” she asked Lord Oxenbury.
