Chapter Twenty
There was littletime on Friday for doubts and nerves. A demanding new case had kept Constance and Solomon busy all day, and although they returned home earlier than usual, a string of questions and trivial problems to be solved took up all their attention.
They barely had a chance to eat, rushing from room to room to quell crises. In fact, the servants had made the place shine, the extra lighting outside and in had been well placed, and apart from a few minor misunderstandings in the kitchen, all was going well. The footmen hired for the evening seemed to be well trained and appeared to Constance to understand what was expected of them.
Only when Constance and Solomon finally bolted upstairs to change, a bare half-hour before their guests were expected, did she find space to breathe, and remember what she had intended to do.
Anne Morris was already waiting for her in the bedchamber. Solomon went into his dressing room. Constance went to the dressing table and took the small leather box from her jewelry case.
“One moment, Anne,” she said, and followed Solomon into his room.
He had already flung his coat and necktie onto the bed and was about to pull his shirt off. He paused, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She closed the door and walked up to him, taking his hand. She placed the little box on his palm and curled his fingers around it. “I thought you might like this. It seems the right occasion to give it to you.”
His eyebrows twitched in curiosity, but his distracted face had softened. He opened the box, and his breath caught at the sight of the lapis lazuli ring. He took it out reverently and slipped it onto his finger.
“How handsome,” he murmured, moving his hand to catch the light. Then he bent nearer and kissed her lips. “Thank you. I love it. But I’m afraid I never thought of a first-party gift.”
“It wasn’t really for that. I just had the urge to give you something. I didn’t really know why until after I had bought it. Forgive me, Solomon.”
He took her in his arms, his brows pulling together. “For what?”
“The fuss I made over this party. I know you’re doing it for me. In my selfish temper I forgot how much this costs you. You are not happy at such gatherings, and I was concerned only with howIwould feel, and howmystanding would affect yours. I forgot your feelings.”
He smiled. “I am always happy with you, Constance.”
She took his face between her hands. “And I with you. I love you, and there’s nowhere I could be prouder than by your side.”
She kissed him and his arms tightened, just as she slipped free. “Twenty minutes, Sol!”
*
Constance, wearing anew ivory silk gown with a deep-red shawl and reticule, and the garnet necklace Solomon had given her as a wedding gift, strolled among her guests, smiling and chatting, making everyone feel welcome.
It was remarkably similar to welcoming men to her establishment, and slowly, she felt that boundary she had tried to draw between notorious courtesan and wife of a respectable man begin to dissolve. This “hostess” role was part of who she was, a talent she had improved on over the years. And there was no time for nerves or worries, although somewhere she was still stunned by the number of peoplewho had accepted her invitation.
She had invited too many in the end, so that the house would not look too empty, and had imagined feeding all of London’s poor with the leftovers from the mountain of food she had ordered. Instead, few had refused.
The neighbors had all come, although they might not the next time if they learned her past from other guests. Solomon’s closest business and charitable associates were there too, from Sir Nicholas and Lady Swan, whom she had met before, to the Halliwells, whom she had not, and the men who now ran the various branches of his business for him. Griz and Dragan had come early, and were still here. So had Lord and Lady Trench, perhaps at Griz’s request. Zenobia Paul had arrived, alone and curious as ever.
Edith was quietly playing her violin in the background. Those nearest her often paused to listen with some appreciation. Later in the evening, she would perform a complete piece by Vivaldi.
Constance gave her an approving smile as she passed, and then, catching sight of a new arrival, went to welcome him.
“Mrs. Grey,” said Jason Madly, who had once figured as a suspect in the doorstep case but was a much older acquaintance. He bowed over her hand, his wicked eyes dancing. “You cannot imagine my joy at finally receiving an invitation from you.”
“Oh, you must thank my husband for that,” Constance said. “He likes you for some reason.”
“Poor deluded fool,” Madly said, sweeping his gaze around the room, nodding amiably as he encountered Solomon’s gaze.
“A glass of wine?” Constance said as the footman hired for the evening approached. “Perhaps I should tell you Mrs. St. John and her daughter Mrs. Cordell are here.”
“I already saw them,” Madly said.
Constance smiled. “You already knew they were coming.”
“We have made our peace, she and I.” He leaned closer. “Thankyou, Constance.”
