“Pray do not remind me," Lady Brennon replied with a sharpness in her tone. "It vexes me greatly that we are forced to seclude ourselves in this remote location, whilst the season unfolds in London and suitable matches are to be had.”
Lord Brennon’s smile faded just a little. “I apologise, my darling.”
His wife shook her head, lips set in a dissatisfied line. “I know it can’t be helped, but still. It’s a pity we ran out of friends to stay with.”
Lavinia bit her lip, concentrating on filling her plate. For her first Season – this was her third, and it was nearly over – they had stayed in their London townhouse. Shortly after that, their finances tightened again and they were obliged to sell it. Nobody knew, of course, and they often simply rented their old house from the new owners, and pretended it was still theirs.
But the rent was steep, and they could not afford to stay in London for the whole Season. So, Lord Brennon would retreat frequently to their country estate to attend to business, bringing the whole family with him, for a month or two at a time. When theywerein London, if they wanted to entertain at all while they were there, they were obliged to save up by staying with friends and family. There were ways to live on nothing at all in London, but it required stronger nerves than Lavinia and her family possessed. They were not doing well, not at all.
It was most inconvenient, and Lady Brennon lamented the lack of opportunities it brought. Perhaps it was just because she was then forced to look their situation in the eye and admit that they could no longer afford to even rent the house they had once owned.
Gillian cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter.
“Do not you worry, Mama, this is the last year we shall have to do this. I intend to make a splendid match, and then you can all come and stay with me every Season. I’ll save up my strength and energy, and make sure I do everything I can. Maybe I’ll even find Lavvy a half-decent husband.”
That brought a smile to everybody’s face.
“I certainly hope not,” Lavinia remarked tartly, and that even made Gillian laugh a little.
Some of the tension dissolved, although Lavinia was under no illusions that it would stay gone.
A tap on the door heralded the butler, carrying a silver tray in white-gloved hands.
“For your, your Ladyship,” he said sombrely, handing it to Lady Brennon. Oddly enough, the lower the family sank, the more determinedly the upper servants clung to their proprieties and traditions. Lavinia knew that they were lucky to have such a faithful household, and that only made her more miserable to think about the inevitable day when they would all have to be dismissed, one by one.
Lady Brennon gulped the last of her tea and took the letter. No, not a letter – Lavinia could see that it was a gilt-edged invitation. Abruptly, the woman gave a squawk of delight, causing her husband to spill his coffee.
“You will never guess who this is from,” Lady Brennon crowed, beaming around the table and pressing the invitation to her chest.
“Is it from Lord Tuppers?” Gillian asked hopefully.
“What? That simpleton? No, of course not. It is from theDowager Duchess of Dunleigh. She invites us to a ball at their Bath home, in two weeks’ time! That is the famous Rosewood House! Can you believe it?”
Lavinia set her cup down with a click. “We aren’t acquainted with the Willenshires, Mama.”
Not officially, at least. She had met the new duke once, in a meeting that Lavinia still cringed over. She had had a headache, and felt sick and miserable, longing to be anywhere but that overheated ballroom. As a consequence, she’d found herself out on the balcony with the young duke, and had spoken entirely without propriety, even without thought. No doubt he’d been amused and disgusted all at once, and she ought to consider herself lucky he hadn’t thought to ruin her.
Besides, that was the fateful evening when she’d lost Hugh’s precious locket. Tears pricked at her eyes at the thought, and she furiously blinked them back. The necklace was gone, and that was that. She was careless. She’d lost it. The last bit of Hugh was lost.
“I met the duchess briefly at Lady Clarissa’s ball,” Lady Brennon said dismissively. “The dowager duchess, I should say. Can you believe it, Owen? They’ve invited us – the Willenshires never invited us to anything before – and their Bath residence, no less! Oh, we ought to go.”
Lord Brennon bit his lip. “I thought we were staying here a few more weeks.”
“Yes, but only think of the benefits,” Lady Brennon answered eagerly, leaning across the table to take his hand. “There is a postscript here – the Dowager has invited us tostay!I could never have hoped for such a thing! She adds that my company was most refreshing, and that she would enjoy seeing me again, along with my two daughters! Think of what it could be like for Gillian! The opportunities she might have! The Dowager Duchess’ balls are always full of eligible gentlemen, everyone is aware of that.”
Everybodydidknow that. Everybody wanted an invitation to a Willenshire ball, and not everybody got one. Lavinia glanced sideways at her sister, whose face was taut and pensive.
She’s too young for this.
Gillian was nineteen, having already had her come-out delayed by a year. She was remarkably beautiful, with a grace and a sort of sweetness about her that Lavinia had never possessed.
Of the two of us, she resembles Hugh the most,Lavinia thought, and the idea sent a pang through her. She thought, as she often did, of the young, idealized version of Hugh – the sweet, fair-haired boy who had led his sisters through the gardens, creating exciting, imaginative games. That was why she’d chosen the miniature of him as a child to put in her locket, so that she could remember him when they were young and happy and everything was rosy and perfect.
It was childish, perhaps, but the locket was, after all, only for her. Automatically, Lavinia’s hand crept up to her neck, where the cool silver of the locket should rest against her collar.
It wasn’t there, of course, and she felt the familiar lurch of loss.
How could I have lost it? After all this time, how could I?
