A mere ten feet from the steps, the heavens truly opened, forcing Lavinia to sprint the remaining distance, her shawl held over her head. She stumbled inside, panting for breath, flushed with the exercise and her own adventure, wanting to laugh aloud.
“Lavinia!”
She flinched at her mother’s voice.
“Oh, Mama. I did not see you there.”
Lady Brennon stood in the hallway, wearing a neat little morning-dress of blue velvet. It clashed with her face, which was crimson.
“Where have youbeen?” she hissed. “Imagine my consternation when I discovered you were gone from your bed! Were you riding? You were, weren’t you? Oh, you wretched girl. You are so thoughtless!”
“I’m sorry, Mama. Have I missed breakfast?”
“Yes, and the Dowager has decided that all of us ladies will gather in the morning-room and spend a quiet morning together, on account of the rain. Your absence is conspicuous, let me tell you. Go on in at once.”
“I need to change!” Lavinia glanced down at her damp dress. It wasn’ttoocrumpled, and she couldn’t see any noticeable stains. Her hair, however, was another story.
Lady Brennon gave a huff of annoyance and started shouting at her daughter.
“You can’t,” she said shortly. “There’s no time.”
Using her fingers, she was able to comb Lavinia’s hair into some semblance of a style, repining the loose locks and twisting it back into something neater.
“That will have to do,” she murmured, casting a disapproving look over Lavinia’s rumpled gown. “You smell of horse, but not overwhelmingly so. The flush in your cheeks is quite scandalous, but I’m sure it will subside soon enough. Don’t let anyone near enough to smell you. Go on, in you go, in you go!”
Lavinia was hustled along the corridors and abruptly shoved into a large, airy room, full of women. Some ladies sat reading by the window, others sewed on the long sofa, and still more clustered around the fireplace and by the refreshments tables, chatting in low, sedate voices. A good number of them looked up as Lady Brennon and Lavinia walked in.
“Goodness,” came a familiar voice which Lavinia was starting to heartily dislike, “what a sluggard you are, Miss Brookford! We’d quite given you up for lost.”
She forced a smile. “Good morning, Miss Bainbridge. I must confess myself quite tired this morning. I am sorry not to join you all sooner.”
Miss Bainbridge came rustling forward, and Lavinia’s smile dropped as she noticed her gown. Her dove-grey gown.
She met Miss Bainbridge’s eye and saw something flicker there that she did not like.
The moment crackled, seeming to go on forever, before Lady Brennon yanked Lavinia unceremoniously away, dragging her over to a quiet, low stool in the corner of the room.
“Sit here and try not to speak to anyone,” Lady Brennon hissed. “You can change before luncheon, before we go out to the Assembly Rooms, but it’ll look odd if you change before. Sit here for half an hour and then excuse yourself.”
Lavinia bit her lip and said nothing. It seemed that no response was needed, really. Her mother rustled away, joining the dowager duchess on a two-seater sofa. The soft undertone of voices started up again, and Lavinia shifted, getting ready to sink into boredom for a while. Something caught her eye, and she surreptitiously bent over to peer at her dress.
Her heart sank. There was a large, fist-shaped splash of mud on her skirt, just above her hem. It stood out on the plain fabric, and Lavinia hastily arranged the material in a way that ought to hide it. The stain was too large, however, and any reckless movement would display the stain.
Questions would naturally follow. Where had she gone? A walk? A ride? Who with?Alone? Oh, shocking, shocking!
The truth would be worse. Not alone, but with the duke? That would destroy Lavinia’s reputation forever.
Half an hour,she told herself, glancing at the clock.I can manage half an hour, surely.
On cue, a particular young woman detached herself from the group and headed towards Lavinia, smiling in a rather malicious way.
“Why, Miss Brookford, here you are sitting out of the way! How dull for you!” Miss Bainbridge cooed, revealing white, sharp teeth. “I shall sit by you.”
There was really nothing for Lavinia to say to that. She smiled tightly, cursing her luck, as Miss Bainbridge pulled up a chair beside her, shaking out her dove-grey skirts.
“It’s not like you, I think,” Miss Bainbridge said at last, thoughtfully, “to lie in so late. That’s what I thought, at least. Imagine my surprise when I saw you rushing up to the house in the rain.”
“It was you at the window, then,” Lavinia said tightly. At least they weren’t going to pretend to be friends, then. She was relieved. It was exhausting.
