“Ren. Look at you.” She drew a hand through the air, shaping his outlines. “You’ve turned out splendid.”
“D’you think so?” His voice, too, dropped an octave. His chest rumbled as she stepped closer still. Lifted her hand as if she meant to touch him. He held his breath.
“Renwick!”
The high, acidic voice from the other side of the door broke the spell between them. Harriette reared back, startled.
“You can’t stay in there forever,” the voice called. “Come down and greet your guests.”
“C-c-c-coming, M-m-m-mother,” Ren answered. “I need a m-m-moment of p-p-peace.”
He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see Harriette’s face change. She’d called him splendid. She’d looked at him with interest. She hadn’t remarked on the special shaping of his shoe that made his leg and foot look like any other man’s. His stutter never seemed to come out around her, not since their first meeting. But she’d heard it now. She’d know he hadn’t changed, not really. He was still the same afflicted, misshapen, pitiful boy she’d rescued back in Shepton Mallet.
There was nothing she could admire about that.
Suddenly a warm, soft, scented form burrowed into him, nearly knocking him off balance. Ren’s eyes flew open. Harriette pressed herself against his chest as if she meant to hide behind him. When his eyes widened, questioning, she laid her gloved hands on his upper arms and shook him. Her face was full of panic, but not revulsion.
She was touching him again.
“Is that your mother? She can’t find me here!” she hissed. “Ren, you must hide me. Quickly!”
Renwick had never betrayed her,not in all their time together. Not when they were found in a scrape or caught committing a mischief, or merely seen traipsing across a farmer’s field or pasture, swatting the sheep. Not when he was blamed for lobbing stones at the village boys while Harriette stood next to him with the slingshot in her hand.
But he betrayed her now. Instead of shoving her into a wardrobe or behind a curtain, which would have been the logical move, he slid an arm about her and turned toward the door.
“On the con-contrary, I think it’s high time for my mother to ma-meet you,” he said, and then raised his voice. “Come in.”
Harriette’s heart paused, then leapt erratically. The whole purpose in leaving her card with the butler had been to let Ren know she was in town. She had never met his mother, and never wished to.
The door flew open, and Harriette got her first look at the Countess of Renwick.
She was tiny and terrifying. An open robe of shimmering coral silk was pinned to a stomacher glittering with gems, matched by the enormous coral necklace spanning her chest. A petticoat cascading with ivory ruffles peeked through the skirts heaped over panniers broader than the doorway. The powered wig towered at least a foot above her head, with some confection perched upon it that Harriette didn’t have time to study. Disapproval filled her face from the frown on her white brow to the pinched line of her lips.
Harriette had chosen her best gown for the task of seducing Ren, but the experienced eye would see that the crimson silk had faded and a line of pinpricks showed where it had been converted to the popular nightgown style. Harriette’s hair powder was a dull grey that failed to disguise her natural muddy red color, and she wore no jewelry but a thin gold chain her mother had given her when she left Shepton Mallet for school.
She may have matured into a woman since Ren had seen her last, evidenced by the bosom pushed up by the low bodice of her gown and the tiny waist enhanced by her corset, but to the Countess of Renwick she would never be more than a brawling, nameless country orphan who could not afford to patch her shoes. Including her current ones, which, having been borrowed from Princess, who had larger feet, were clinging to Harriette’s only through a combination of will and luck.
And she had been found in Ren’s dressing room, alone with him. Were she of higher birth, or of known virtue, it was obvious what the consequences would be.
“Renwick,” the countess said with a cold glare, “if you’re going to smuggle harlots into this house, have the taste to choose from a better class.”
Harriette drew back her lips in a feral grin. What had she expected—that the countess would recognize and welcome her? Of course not.
Ren stiffened. “Rhette,” he said, quite against protocol, “may I introduce the Countess of W-W-Renwick. Mother, this is my v-very good friend—” He paused to concentrate, and Harriette squeezed his arm lightly. “Miss Harriette Smythe.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed. Ren had not endeared Harriette to her by choosing to introduce the woman of higher rank to the lower. “A name not, to my recollection, among the invitations I sent out,” the countess said.
“An oversight I have c-c-c-orrected,” Ren said. “I shall be de—” He paused and took a breath. “I shall be delighted to introduce Harriette to your guests.”
If possible, his mother’s countenance grew even more contemptuous. “Yourguests, Renwick,” the countess hissed through her teeth, “are quality. Among them are several marriageable young ladies of rank and station. You will not make me notorious by bringing this—this trollop into my house.”
Harriette’s heart dropped into her too-large slippers. So the countesshadheard of her, even if Ren hadn’t yet gleaned the gossip. This had been a terrible idea after all. Princess was right.
“Now, send her off through the back door and come down to the party, Renwick,” the countess said.
She glanced around the room as if Ren might be hiding other women among the hangings and heavy chairs. It was adark room with outmoded furnishings, not at all to Ren’s style, and Harriette suspected it had belonged to the previous earl. Of course, much about the Countess of Calenberg’s house was also outmoded, so Harriette was in no position to scoff. But this new Ren, with his quiet dignity and understated elegance, suited this room as well as a bear at tea. Harriette wondered what other molds his mother was attempting to force Ren into, despite his inclination.
“I wish Harriette to stay, M-m-mother. You did tell me I m-might invite who I wi-liked,” Ren said.
