“Can we ring for more tea?” Prudence asked.
Ophelia nodded and rose to ring the bellpull. Justine took the sketchbook and added shading to emphasize her point. Prudence could see it. “What about if we made some kind of mountain here, at the head of the room? It would be the focal point, drawing guests further into the ballroom, and would also serve as a place for Ophelia to speak to the crowd.”
Justine’s eyes went wide. “I love it.”
“Perhaps there could be a staircase at the back, but we could invite guests to climb it from a difficult angle,” Eleanor suggested. “Have ropes to tie in?”
“Not unlike the Matterhorn,” Ophelia said, nodding, when she returned from ordering more tea for Prudence.
“I like it,” Justine said, grinning in an impish way that showed off her dimples. It wasn’t surprising that every man in London was half in love with her.
“We are beginning to have a plan,” Prudence said. “I very much appreciate that.”
The tea tray arrived, and Prudence thankfully accepted a cup from Eleanor, who had taken over the job of hostess while Ophelia continued to sketch under the scrutiny of Justine who, as always, had plenty of suggestions.
Eleanor scooted her chair closer to Prudence. “Are you well?” she whispered.
Prudence frowned, but gratefully inhaled the steam from the teacup. “Of course. Just tired.”
Eleanor looked her over. “You’ve lost weight.”
“We’ve been training again,” Prudence pointed out. “You have also dropped some.”
Eleanor hid a conspiratorial grin. “I don’t think it’s from training.”
“Oh?” Prudence said, glad for her friend’s happiness.
“I think it’s from long nights with my husband,” Eleanor confessed. And then she gave Prudence a bald stare that suggested that was what she thought Prudence was also up to.
Which was true.
But she couldn’t very well admit it. “Oh, come now. That’s not—”
“It is precisely what you said your goal was.” Eleanor poured herself a cup, not letting Prudence wiggle out of it. She was as bad as Georgie, though a bit more talkative.
“I know what I said, but—”
“Are you being safe?” Eleanor asked.
“Safe?” Prudence asked. “What does that mean?”
“You trust the man? He will not hurt you, take advantage of you?” Eleanor asked.
Prudence’s heart expanded at the concern of her friend. She reached over and squeezed her arm. “Yes, I trust him. He’s a good man.”
“Do you both have the same expectation of this affair?” Eleanor asked, her eyes on her teacup.
“Yes. Neither of us is interested in a marriage. Or anything more.”
Eleanor nodded her approval. “And what will you do if a babe appears?”
What a strange way to phrase it. As if there were infants appearing in people’s drawing rooms at a moment’s notice. “I am taking precautions.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I am being careful. I wouldn’t jeopardize the Ladies’ Alpine Society. You have to know that.”
It was Eleanor’s turn to frown. “I’m not concerned for us. I’m concerned for you.”
