Page 23 of The Season of Lady Chastity

Chastity pressed her hand to her forehead to stop the room from spinning.

When the room stilled once more, she moved to sit and stared up at Luci’s mother.

“I am not injured, my lady.” Chastity’s reassurance did nothing to diminish the concern in Lady Camden’s eyes. “Truly. It was my fault for startling you. I should have allowed you to rest and returned at a later time. My sister, Prudence, is always quick to chastise me for my impertinence.”

Lady Camden stood and held out a hand to help Chastity to her feet.

Eyeing the proffered palm, she wondered if the older woman had the strength to assist her or if it would only cause both of them to find themselves on the library floor.

“Come now, Lady Chastity,” Luci’s mother said. “The least I can do is offer my help in retrieving you from the floor before your gown is ruined.”

Chastity reached up and took Lady Camden’s hand, surprised by her tight, strong grip as she pulled Chastity to her feet.

“Do have a seat.” Lady Camden nodded to the chair she’d been sleeping in a moment before. “I will pour us some tea.”

“I can—” Chastity began, knowing she should allow the woman a moment to compose herself after she had startled her awake.

Lady Camden narrowed her eyes at her, and Chastity fell into the offered chair, slipping her bare hand into her glove at the same time she crossed her legs at the ankle. The woman turned her attention to pouring two identical cups of tea, not bothering to ask Chastity how she took the brew. The cup the marchioness handed to her was not steaming as tea was meant to be; however, Chastity was unconcerned with the temperature of her drink and more interested in Lady Camden and her connection to the Downshire family past.

It was only as Lady Camden took her seat that Chastity recognized the festive decorations strewn about the sitting area: garland, holly, and what appeared to be tiny identical boxes—at least three dozen—waiting to be wrapped and tied with string dyed a brilliant red. In the far corner of the library was a stack of yuletide logs.

“I am having one set in each chamber hearth and all the main rooms to be lit Christmastide morning.” Lady Camden took a sip of her tea. “The entire party would be daunting at any time of the year, but seeing as it is Christmastide, and our guests have chosen to be at Oxburgh Hall instead of at their own family homes, I felt the need—the compulsion, actually—to make the day special for everyone, not just my Lucianna and Montrose.

“I’ve gathered all of Montrose’s family decorations and such, and had my own brought from London to make certain the house is festive and bright,” Lady Camden continued, her exhaustion disappearing, at least for a few brief moments. “Unfortunately, Luci’s father would not allow me to bring my own servants…and Montrose’s staff is busy with guests, so I am depending on a few of the villagers to help with stringing garland, wrapping gifts, and making certain there are enough pies and sweets for Christmastide day.”

“My sister and I would welcome the opportunity to help, my lady,” Chastity offered. “We do not know many here, and Lady Luci has been ever so kind to us since our meeting. It is the least we can do for her.”

Chastity meant every word. Edith, Ophelia, and Luci had been kind and accepting of Chastity, offering her friendship when they hadn’t been required to even so much as speak with her before Triston made his intentions known to Edith. The trio was beautiful, engaging, and intelligent, while Chastity and Prudence were little more than motherless wallflowers.

Lady Camden did as she’d done several times in their short acquaintance, she waved off Chastity’s assistance as if it were unnecessary, though they both knew the sheer amount of work that needed to be completed before the Christmastide morning nuptials. It would require an entire army of servants to accomplish.

“Please, my dear, do not concern yourself with my preparations.” Lady Camden set her teacup on the table and focused on Chastity. “Tell me, there must be a reason you’ve come to speak with me. A young thing like you should have grand things occupying her time, you shouldn’t be wasting it here in the library with an old woman like me.”

There was something about the woman’s words that pulled at Chastity’s heartstrings. Lady Camden, while not a debutante by any means, was not old. In fact, she’d be Chastity and Prudence’s mother’s age.

“I actually wanted to speak with you about my mother.” Chastity made no attempt to hide her hesitancy. Perhaps if Lady Camden knew of her unease with the subject, she would be more forthcoming with information—if she were aware of her husband’s activities at all. “Did you know her, my lady? Clara Neville, the Marchioness of Downshire.”

“Please, call me Eloise, my dear,” Lady Camden said with a light laugh. “And, yes, I knew your mother, though she was only Lady Clara at the time as she hadn’t yet wed your father when we first met.”

Chastity paused, the air sticking in her throat as she let the information settle within her. This woman before her, Luci’s mother, had known Chastity’s mother. Had seen her in the flesh, not only heard of her or attended her parents’ grand wedding at St. James. Eloise actually knew Clara. She’d had conversations in the past with people who knew her mother, but this felt different—in a very meaningful way. This was a connection not tainted by her father or her mother’s quickness to bear children…no, this was about the time before she’d become Lady Downshire. This was a period in her mother’s life that even her father knew naught about.

“Our debutante Season was the same year, despite me being a year older than Clara,” Eloise shared, a faint smile touching her lips. “Those were exciting times, happier ones. While I, with my dark hair and sun-kissed skin from my childhood trips to the sea, was reserved and quiet, your mother was light personified. Her hair was like spun gold, and her smile captured the notice of every man, woman, and child. And her voice…it was heavenly to hear. We were the talk of all of London. I was the night to her day.”

“You were friends?” Chastity could hardly believe her good fortune. She’d hoped to gain some new insight into her mother’s life but a genuine friend, someone who knew her in life as Chastity hoped to know her in death? And friendship with Lady Camden meant her mother could have known Lord Camden before she’d met Chastity’s father. “I have nothing of my mother but a portrait.”

“Every man was smitten with Clara,” Lady Camden continued as if she hadn’t heard Chastity’s question. For a moment, Chastity thought perhaps she hadn’t spoken it aloud, but Eloise’s demeanor shifted, and her shoulders tensed. “Lords, gentlemen, and commoners alike fell at your mother’s feet. She was a classic beauty with a surplus of wealth at her disposal. That she was a bit of a hellion only added to her allure. Men wanted to possess Clara, and women wanted to be her.”

Chastity remained silent. In their brief time together, the marchioness had shared more about her mother than her father had in all her years. Even Triston hadn’t spoken as candidly. Chastity feared if she interrupted, Eloise would stop speaking, and Chastity wanted desperately to hear every detail the woman knew of her mother.

“In the end, Downshire won her hand, much to the chagrin of my husband.” Her words turned from melodic to a sibilant hiss. “Not that it mattered, as Clara was gone two years later—the Lord bless her soul—leaving two babes for Downshire to raise.”

Chastity’s breath stuck in her throat until her lungs burned. Lady Camden spoke so frankly about the loss of her mother. Could she know more about that time than she let on? She obviously knew of Camden’s fondness for Clara. Perhaps Eloise was also aware of more than she was ready to speak about.

Eloise lifted her shoulder in an offhanded shrug, and the faraway look in her eyes faded as she looked around the library, her gaze lingering on a pile of garlands.

“Were you and Lord Camden friends with my mother and father?” Chastity witnessed Lady Camden’s hesitation to say more. “Please, Eloise…”

Lady Camden’s chin lifted, her posture rigid, and Chastity dreaded that she would speak no more. “No. After your father and mother wed, I barely saw Clara. She was soon with child, and your father preferred to keep her…with him. I believed them to be a good match.”