Strange. Sybil couldn’t remember the last time her mother had ever behaved secretively. In fact, she was usually so open Sybil wished she’d keep at least some secrets. At least one.
After a quick glance around to see if there was anyone around, she recognized—unlikely, after her year-long sojourn in the country—Sybil hopped out of the carriage.
“I’ll be right back,” she told the coachman and hurried into the crowd. It wasn’t proper for her to be in public unchaperoned, but in a way, she had her mother with her, even if her mother didn’t know it yet.
It wasn’t difficult to keep sight of her mother’s figure, given the fact she was today wearing a green morning dress with puffed sleeves and a silhouette cut that was more appropriate for a ballroom. But Sybil didn’t recognize the man her mother had gone to meet.
He was older, perhaps twenty more years or so than her mother, and his stomach was large, protruding into the space between them. His graying hair was slicked back, over the bald crown of his head, and there was a certain flamboyance about his appearance that had Sybil considering him carefully. He could have been a dandy, of course, straining toward the intricacies of fashion without ever quite reaching it, but there was something about him that made Sybil wonder. It was indefinable, really; after all, what made a gentleman a gentleman?
But there was a rough edge to his voice, and he took her mother’s arm in a proprietary gesture that made Sybil’s teeth clench. Was this her lover? She couldn’t see her mother, who made no secret of the fact she enjoyed the physical nature of relationships, would be unfaithful to Thomas with a man so much her senior.
Thomas.Oh no.When her mother was unmarried, this was one thing, but now she had promised herself to Thomas, what was Sybil supposed to do?
She crept a little closer, trying to look as though she was enjoying nature—corrupted as it was by hordes of people trying to do the same thing—rather than listen to their conversation.
“Your daughter,” the man said.
“After all this time?” Her mother gave a laugh that might sound tinkling to someone else, but Sybil knew better. Her mother was tense. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? A promise is a promise.”
“Consider,” her mother said, laying her hand on the man. “She is a pretty girl, and while she’s of age, she’s too much your junior.”
Could it be that her mother’s lover wanted to marryher?Sybil’s heart pounded in her chest.
The man flung her mother’s hand away. “Next time, I’ll come to your house,” he warned.
“You would not dare. My husband is the Marquess of Averley.”
“What does that matter to me?”
“It should,” her mother said, her voice coaxing again. “Consider, Howard, the consequences if someone should discover us together.”
No, they were definitely lovers, and familiar enough with each other to use their first names. Sybil closed her eyes briefly and moved away again, though in time to hear Howard roughly say, “What should it matter to me?”
This was bad. Terrible, in fact. Sybil’s heart was in her mouth as she walked back to the carriage, barely noticing the people she passed on the way. Her mother was meeting another man in secret, one who either seemed to have designs on her or who wanted her out of the way.
Though what purpose couldthatachieve?
A hand clamped on her shoulder, and she jumped, glancing up into the stern face of her mother. “I thought,” Scarlet said, her tone unusually sharp, “I told you to stay in the carriage.”
“You did,” Sybil said, “but I fancied a walk. Who was that man, Mama?”
“No one who needs concern you. In fact, I recommend you put him from your head.” Scarlet opened the door of the carriage with more force than necessary and ushered Sybil in. “If you are going to make yourself agreeable in theton, my dear, you need to learn not to involve yourself in others’ business.”
Even when their business involved being unfaithful to their husbands? Sybil didn’t particularly like Thomas, or his desperation to see her married rather than living happily with Aunt Susan, but she despised the idea that her mother could be so openly flirtatious with another man.
Perhaps it was better she married as soon as possible, so she could escape this house and the scandal that was bound to fall on it sooner or later.
“Sybil? Don’t close your eyes when I’m speaking to you.”
Unaware she’d closed them, she cracked them open slightly. “You wish to marry me off, Mama, so I agree. Find me a husband. Sell me to the highest bidder. I won’t object. In fact, I embrace it.”
Scarlet pursed her lips as she looked at Sybil, and Sybil looked right back. Perhaps she imagined it, but there was a trace of disappointment in her mother’s eyes as she said, “Very well. I shall do my best. The new dresses will help.”
At least in the dresses her mother had chosen for her, her prospective husband would not be seeking her for her cleavage; the dresses made it quite clear she had very little to offer.
Her heart hurt, and she turned her face into the corner of the carriage.
