As for Lady Christine, she hadn’t ventured a single word since she entered Lady Fosberry’s drawing room, nor did she venture one now, but sat as silent as a cipher, her icy gaze moving between Lord Melrose and Juliet. At one point that glacial gaze fell on Emmeline, but just as quickly dismissed her.
“As the day is so fine, I thought perhaps Lord Cross and I might persuade you and your guests to accompany us on a drive to Greenwich, to see Lady Hammond’s roses.” Lord Melrose turned to Lady Fosberry with a bow.
Lady Dingley was growing ever more infuriated with every word out of Lord Melrose’s mouth, but she didn’t quite dare to challenge either him or Lady Fosberry any further, as both of them wielded considerable power with the ton.
So, instead she set her sights on the only two people in the room she imagined she could bully with impunity. “How kind you are, Lord Melrose, to show such an interest in the, ah…Misses Templeton.”
Emmeline stiffened at the derisive note in Lady Dingley’s voice when she spoke their name, but Juliet made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh.
Lord Cross’s gaze darted to her, and the corners of his lips twitched, but Lord Melrose stiffened, his face going as hard as stone. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Dingley. They’re both charming young ladies.”
“Charming, yes. I believe their mother was thought charming, as well.” Lady Christine said, breaking her icy silence at last, her voice dripping with sweetness even as she shot Juliet a poisonous smirk.
Emmeline went still at Lady Christine’s taunt, all the louder and uglier for the moment of dead silence that followed it.
Had she misheard? Surely, she must have misunderstood…
But no, of course, she hadn’t. In the time it took for her to release one breath and draw the next, she became painfully aware she hadn’t misunderstood at all. If nothing else, she would have known it by the vicious triumph on Lady Christine’s pretty face.
“Is there something you wish to say, Lady Christine?” Lady Fosberry looked as if she’d happily box Lady Christine’s ears, but before two of London’s most elegant ladies could fall into fisticuffs, Lord Melrose stepped into the fray.
And his expression…
Emmeline had never seen a gentleman more infuriated in her entire life. In the blink of an eye, his easy smile vanished, and his handsome face flushed with outrage. He stared at Lady Christine for a long, tense moment, every inch the haughty earl, then said in a low, hard voice, “I see I’ve made a narrow escape, my lady.”
He said no more. There was no need. All the color drained from Lady Christine’s face as she absorbed the full force of his meaning.
“Come, Christine. We have no friends here.” Lady Dingley gathered the tarnished remnants of her dignity around herself, and marched from the room without another word, her daughter in her wake.
Emmeline waited until they’d left the room before sagging against the settee, fearful her legs would buckle beneath her. “Dear God, what a dreadful scene.”
“How dare Lady Dingley and that perfectly awful daughter of hers presume to speak thus to me and my friends in my own drawing room?” Lady Fosberry’s eyes were blazing. “Vicious chit!”
She went on for some time, railing against the Dingleys and declaring she’d never liked them, until at last she noticed neither Emmeline nor Juliet had said a word. “Now my dears, you mustn’t take anything those two vindictive females say to heart. They represent the very worst of the ton. I know neither of you cares a fig for anything they have to say.”
Juliet cleared her throat. “Of course not, my lady.”
Emmeline must have risen to her feet at some point, though she couldn’t recall when, because she was standing, her fingers gripping the back of the settee, her gaze fixed on Lord Melrose.
He took a step toward her, his face pale. “Emmeline?”
Emmeline said nothing. She couldn’t speak.
No one, aside from Lady Fosberry, had ever spoken up in her family’s defense. Not the day of the scandal, or any day in the three years since.
Until now.
Tears pressed behind her eyes. She held them ruthlessly at bay, shaking with the effort, but her expression must have revealed her distress, because Lord Melrose turned hastily to Lady Fosberry with a polite bow. “It occurs to me you all may be fatigued by our drive yesterday, my lady. Perhaps we should put off our visit to Greenwich until tomorrow. What say you, Cross?”
Lord Cross was gazing at Juliet, looking more uncertain than Emmeline had ever seen him. “Yes, of course, if the ladies prefer it.”
“For my part, a drive sounds lovely. It’s a beautiful day, and I won’t let Lady Dingley spoil my pleasure in it.” Juliet gave a defiant toss of her head.
Lady Fosberry regarded Emmeline in silence for a moment, then shook her head. “I think we’d all do better to rest this afternoon, as Lord Melrose suggests. Especially you, Emmeline. Go on up to your bedchamber, my dear. You look pale.”
“Yes, my lady.” Emmeline risked one last glance at Lord Melrose before leaving the drawing room, but she didn’t return to her bedchamber. Instead, she slipped out the door and into the rose garden.
Thankfully, it was deserted.
