Page 24

“If you are suggesting that my sister has eloped, you are mistaken. She would rather die.”

“She rang for me at dawn,” Emily said dramatically. “I dressed her in that new gown, the one with hand-painted flowers.”

Torie nodded.

“I had no idea, but Sir William’s valet had dressed him early as well! He and Miss Sutton left together without breakfast. And now the master’s returned alone and announced that Miss Sutton won’t return to the house—ever!”

“I doubt that very much,” Torie said, swinging her legs out of bed. “Did Sir William have brandy with his morning tea?”

Emily shook her head. “He was sober as a judge, though now he’s in the library with the decanters, so who can say? He’s in a regular snit, I can tell you that. Sent for Lord Kelbourne, or so the butler says.”

Torie winced. Apparently, Leonora had left the unpleasant business of breaking off her betrothal to their father. “I suspect my sister has traveled to Wales to stay with my uncle for a few months, until the gossip about breaking her engagement dies down.”

Emily gaped. “Miss Sutton jilted the viscount?”

“I think so,” Torie said.

Leonora’s flight to Wales was a remarkable concession, given that she disliked their uncle to the point of refusing to be in a room with him. In fact, it suggested that her unwillingness to settle on a wedding date reflected genuine reluctance to marry Kelbourne. After all, if the viscount had insisted on keeping the twins in London, Leonora could have just pretended that the nursery didn’t exist, a time-honored practice amongst noblewomen.

Torie suspected that Kelbourne was too male for Leonora, with his blunt mannerisms, his burly physique, and his obsession with rapiers, as her sister had acidly put it.

“Wouldn’t Sir William have sent Miss Sutton to Wales in the barouche?” Emily asked. “If she is paying your uncle a visit, I mean.”

Torie frowned. “Perhaps the barouche is not equipped for such a long journey, and the threat of scandal forced her onto the stagecoach. Leonora loathes gossip, and she’s certain to be on everyone’s lips this week. She may have demanded to leave immediately. You know how she is.”

“Stubborn as a stone,” Emily agreed. “But Miss Sutton on a common stage without a maid? I can’t imagine it. And if she’s paying your uncle a visit, why’s the master in such a canker, saying that she will never return?”

“He doesn’t mean it. Sir William is enraged because Leonora instructed him to break her betrothal,” Torie surmised. She stood up, feeling foolishly near to tears.

No more twins, at least until they were old enough to debut in society.

The Duke of Queensberry had been angling for a kiss, and she should probably indulge him. As a duchess, she could ensure that Florence was a success among the ton.

“Please call for a bath,” she said dully.

Emily rang for hot water while Torie brushed her teeth.

“Lord Bufford is going to be so disappointed,” Emily said, clicking her tongue as she pulled Torie’s nightdress over her head. “The gentleman actually thought Miss Sutton might accept his proposal. He thought to lure the most beautiful lady in London away from a viscount, though he’s old as the hills and likely takes his teeth out at night!”

In her bath, Torie resolved to pay a visit to Kelbourne House to say goodbye to Florence and Val. She didn’t have to worry about running into the jilted bridegroom; the viscount would hear the bad news and go straight to the House of Lords. He wouldn’t allow a broken engagement to come between him and the laws of the land.

She refused to be another person who simply disappeared from the twins’ lives. If only she could write, she would correspond with Florence. She pushed that wish away with a practiced grimace.

Forty minutes later, she was laced into her favorite robe à l’anglaise, strawberry pink with a deep green hem trimmed with white ruffles. Emily darted forward to position the matching ruffled hat with a playful tilt to the left before pinning it in place.

“It’s odd to think of Miss Sutton without a maid,” Emily said, stepping back to check every detail of Torie’s appearance. “How will she dress herself?”

“My uncle will assign her one of his upstairs maids. I’m sorry about how the jilting affects you, Emily. You deserve to be the personal maid to a viscountess.” Torie hesitated and then added, “I am certain that Lord Kelbourne’s household would have been far more comfortable than ours.”

Emily’s sigh took in their oft-drunken butler and equally inebriated master. “You are a pleasure to dress, Miss Torie. Your sister always demanded a fichu wound halfway up her neck, and I couldn’t persuade her to raise her hems, despite fashion’s demands.”

Torie cocked her hip and slid forward a darling slipper so she could see the strawberry ribbons that crossed over her ankle—which brought a rueful smile to her face as she remembered Florence wiggle-waggling across the nursery.

Somehow, she would remain friends with the twins. Even if Lord Kelbourne took a justified dislike to her entire family after being jilted.

Torie drew a deep breath and prepared to go downstairs.

Beside her, Emily gave a little squeal. “Pray take care!” She reached over and tweaked the ruffle that adorned Torie’s low bodice. “Your nipples will be served up on a platter if you aren’t cautious.”