Seger turned to face the woman but she suddenly seemed more interested in talking to Clara. Her breath smelled of whisky and she nearly lost her balance as she whispered in Clara’s ear, “Your bed or mine, darling? We can take turns, back and forth, five minutes each. What do you say, Seger?”
Horrified, Clara gazed up at her husband. He stared blankly at the woman. Clara wasn’t even sure if he recognized her.
But then he spoke her name. “Mrs. Thomas, allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Rawdon.” He gestured toward Clara.
The woman blinked a few times. “I beg your pardon, my lord. Did you say yourwife?”
“Yes.”
“Dear me.” Her cheeks colored. “I didn’t know. No one said anything.” She backed up a step and laid a gloved hand on her chest. “I’m mortified. I’ve been in Paris, you see, and I only just returned yesterday and....”
Seger turned to Clara. “Darling, this is Mrs. Abigail Thomas.”
The woman held out her hand. “How do you do?”
“Very well, thank you,” Clara replied, shaking her hand. The woman fiddled absently with a lock of hair around her ear as the three stood in awkward silence, then Mrs. Thomas commented on the weather. Finally, she made a move to leave. “It was very nice to see you, Lord Rawdon, and a pleasure to meet you, Lady Rawdon.” She turned and left.
Seger watched her go. “I apologize for that.”
Clara tried to keep her voice steady. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I hope that sort of thing doesn’t happen again,” Seger added.
I’m surprised she hadn’t heard about our marriage.”
“We married quickly. And she was in Paris. The news will make its way around soon enough.”
He downed the rest of his champagne and smiled at her understanding, then escorted her back inside. Clara forced herself to forget about the incident and did not mention it again, but she did feel a tension between herself and her husband for the rest of the evening.
The following morning, Clara sat in the breakfast room sipping tea and reading the newspaper.
Gillian entered, served herself breakfast from the sideboard, and sat down. “Did you have a good time at the assembly last night?” Gillian asked.
Gillian had arrived later in the evening with Quintina, and Clara had seen her talking to a number of handsome young men. “Yes, I did, and it looked like you were having a good time as well. Who was that man with the red hair? He always seemed to be smiling when he spoke to you.”
“That was Stanley Scott. His father is a baron from the north, so dear Stanley is only a mister. He seems young, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. I thought he looked very nice.”
Gillian rolled her eyes. “Nice, and limp in the head.”
Clara didn’t know what to say to that. She picked up her tea and took another sip.
“I noticed that you barely left Seger’s side,” Gillian mentioned a few minutes later. “Don’t you trust him?”
The question caught Clara off guard, and she set down her teacup. “Of course I trust him. We simply enjoy each other’s company, and there were a some people he wanted to introduce me to.”
“Like Mrs. Thomas?” Gillian replied. “I saw her talking to you. Well done, Clara.”
Clara felt her insides begin to churn. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“I saw you shake her hand. You were very composed. One would never know.”
“Never know what?”
“That you must have been seething inside. I would have been, too, in your position.”
Clara closed the newspaper and sat back. “I was not seething.”
