Octavia’s head bobbed forward, her crooked teeth practically bared, but Gwen realized she did not need someone to stand up for her. Instead, she found her feet—it was time to fight back.
“I heard youroldLord Tuttle is continuing his line. His mistress in Cheapside is increasing, I believe?”
Milly drew back, almost hissing. Men of the peerage kept their mistresses, as Octavia had stated the day before, but no one acknowledged such.
“I am just thankful that my betrothed is young … and besotted with me.” Gwen reached up to lovingly finger her much-maligned ginger tresses, realizing she was rather excited to marry Lord Abbott. Their moment in the moonlight had been transcendent, and his comparison of her to theBirth of Venushad not been glib. Shewastall and slender, and she certainly possessed the red hair of the subject of that masterpiece.
His ardor had not been feigned, if the recollection of a certain rigidness in the region of his falls were anything to go by.
She was not a broodmare courted on the marriage mart, but an object of passion for the gentleman.
“Which is why we will enjoy our travels to Italy together once we are married.”
Lawks! She hoped she was not overstepping with her announcement.
It was just that for a moment she had found empowerment in owning her change in circumstances, and finally believing Lord Abbott’s declaration of interest in her.
It was invigorating to believe in the possibility of love.The kind of great adoration that her parents had shared. To dare to hope their moonlight passion might turn into a match for the ages, and that they would have babes to cherish who, in turn, would gaze upon their parents with awe.
Milly huffed. “We shall see.”
It was a weak rejoinder, the other woman not having any other retort to give.
Gwen smiled. “We will.”
Octavia shot her a look of approval, bouncing with excitement to finally see her mistress standing up for herself. Gwen made a slight face in response, thrilled to attack rather than retreat, but still startled to …
Lawks! I truly hope I did not overstep!
She did not want to make the mistake of becoming over-confident and then discover a fly in the ointment that invalidated her tentative bravado. But Lord Abbott struck her as an honorable gentleman, and Octavia had imparted only positive news regarding the Abbott family, so perhaps this was finally her time.
CHAPTER 7
“In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous.”
Aristotle
AUGUST 17, 1821
Gwen stared at herself in the mirror, nervously fidgeting with the skirts of her gown while Buttercup whined at her feet. A groom had given the pup a good wash in the mews two days earlier, presenting Gwen with what appeared to be a new dog under all that grime.
Fortunately, Buttercup had proved to be a placid companion who liked to follow Gwen around the house and stare at her for endless hours with big brown eyes and a twitching snout.
“What if theydo not like me?”
Octavia snorted, her thin fingers twisting Gwen’s hair into an elegant coiffure. “What’s not to like? You are a delight.”
Gwen twisted her lips. “Not according to anyone I know.”
“The girls from school are envious, and the boys empty-headed. Older members of thetonfind you a delight.”
Gwen shook her head. “You should have heard how incredulous Lady Astley was when they found us on the terrace.”
“Lady Astley is well known to be an embittered old bat. She would’ve reacted that way to any young lady. If you could hear the stories her servants tell …” Octavia shook her head, causing mousy tendrils to escape from the nape of her neck. “She’s a vile shrew.”
Gwen bit her lip, rhythmically clasping her fingers and releasing them again and again.
“Stop that!” Octavia reached down to smack her on the back of her hand. “You’ll ruin your gown before the dinner even begins.”
