He sighed. “I know I must marry, Mother. You said so. But not Miranda. I am serious – I don’t want to see her again. If you want to write to her, I shan’t stop you. If you want to spend time with her, that is your concern. But I don’t want her here, and that’s final.”
There was a long, tense silence between them. Arthur realized doggedly that there was more to come.
“Come on, then,” he continued heavily. “Out with it. You are a terrible liar, Mother. Never play cards with high stakes.”
Beatrice gave a long, rattling sigh. “It’s just that… that when I spoke to her earlier, I invited her to a few of our other entertainments.”
His jaw tightened. “When you say afew of our other entertainments…”
“I mean all of them,” Beatrice said dolefully. “Starting with our little informal musical evening tonight. She’s coming back then.”
Arthur felt vaguely sick. The pounding in his head was materializing into the tangible stab of a megrim. His vision was steady, for now, but he already knew he couldn’t return to the terrace to socialize, even if Miranda had magically disappeared.
He should be so lucky.
“I can’t very well rescind the invitations, not unless I turn her away at the door,” Beatrice was saying now, with a hint of panic in her voice. “And people heard me invite her. I was obliged to invite Lord Vincent, too. Arthur, I am so sorry, my tongue simply ran away with me. I never meant for it to happen. I… I didn’tthinkshe would come here.”
Arthur passed a wobbling hand over his face. If he slept the rest of the afternoon away, he might just be in good enough shape to attend the musical evening that night. Miranda seemed to have taken a dislike to poor Miss Thornhill, andsomebodyought to defend her.
“Oh, Mother,” he said lightly, voice cracking despite his best efforts. Beatrice looked anguished. “Mother, what have you done?”
Chapter Ten
Felicity watched Lord Lanwood disappear into the house with his mother. They were gone for a while, ten or fifteen minutes at least, then Mrs. Langley returned, pale and a little miserable. She caught Felicity’s eye and forced a smile.
“Arthur has something of a headache,” she said, before Felicity could say a word. “He hopes to join us for the musical evening, though.”
Miss Sinclair, who’d been lingering nearby, clearly overheard, giving a dissatisfied littlemoue. She made her apologies shortly after and took her leave.
“I don’t like that woman,” Daniel murmured, quiet enough so that only Felicity could hear. “Aside from being the most manipulative little flirt I’ve ever seen; she’s got a reputation for being exceptionally cruel to any women she sees as a rival.” I hate to see that.”
“Who are we speaking of?” Lord Vincent burst in, rudely joining the conversation. “Ah, the redoubtable Miss Miranda Sinclair.”
Felicity flushed, looking away. Daniel stiffened.
“I don’t know the woman well, myself,” he muttered.
Lord Vincent chuckled, swigging back a cup of tea as if it were whiskey.
“Pretty thing, ain’t she?”
Daniel glared at him. “I’m not sure that’s appropriate conversation for here and now, Lord Vincent.”
“Ah, I’m sure Miss Thornhill isn’t as delicate as you make out. I must say, I was surprised to see Miss Sinclair here, especially after all that went between them.”
He let the sentence trail away meaningfully, clearly intending for somebody to ask him further questions. Even though it was exactly what he wanted, Felicity couldn’t help but ask.
“What do you mean?”
He grinned wolfishly. “Aha, you don’t know. It was quite a piece of gossip in the day. Miss Sinclair and Lord Lanwood – although of course he was only Mr. Langley, then – were engaged to be married. Truly in love with each other, they were. It was the love-match of the Season, everyone said. She was pretty and charming, and he was handsome and witty. Neither particularly rich, which is always a pity – would be a deal-breaker for me, I can tell you – but a good enough couple.”
A fizzing sensation ran down Felicity’s spine. It all made perfect sense, and she felt like an absolute fool for not having seen it before. Of course they would be in love with each other. They were both so brilliant, so confident – well, Miss Sinclair was self-assured and confident, although it was clear Lord Lanwood’s confidence had taken a nasty knock – and both so good-looking. No wonder Society thought they were a perfect couple.
How ridiculous that she hadn’t seen it before.
“If I were a betting man,” Lord Vincent said meditatively, “I would say that Miss Sinclair regrets throwing away our dear friend the Earl. After all, he is Lord Lanwood now, with all that that entails. His scars are quite unsightly still, but not as bad as they once were.”
Felicity flinched at that. “I think the earl is a remarkably handsome man.”
