But she was doing this for Marigold’s sake. She wanted to give her daughter a future that she could only dream of.
The coach came to a stop in front of the Royal Opera House and a footman stepped off his perch to open the door. Once it was opened, Malcolm assisted them onto the pavement.
Enid felt a pit in her stomach as she watched the other patrons exit their coaches and travel up the steps to the Royal Opera House. No one seemed to give her much heed and that was greatly appreciated.
Malcolm offered his arm and led her up the stairs. He glanced over at her and whispered, “Breathe, Sister.”
“This is a mistake. I shouldn’t be here,” Enid said.
“It is too late now,” Malcolm responded as he led her through the doors.
Once they stepped inside, the entire room seemed to erupt in hushed conversations and the women whipped open their fans as they stared at her with disapproval on their features. The men in the room shifted so their backs were towards her, further shaming her.
Enid felt the panic well up in her chest and she knew she couldn’t do this. It was too much. Thetonwould never accept her and it was futile to even try.
As she turned to leave, Lord Roswell Westlake stepped out from the crowd and approached her. She was grateful to see a familiar face, especially one that she had known for many years. He may have been Malcolm’s friend, but he had always treated her with kindness.
Lord Roswell stopped in front of her and bowed. “It is lovely to see you this evening, Lady Enid.”
“You are the only one that feels that way,” Enid said as she dropped into a curtsy.
“Do not give them any heed,” Lord Roswell encouraged. “They are jealous of your beauty.”
Enid shook her head. “I assure you that is not the reason.”
The short, white-haired Lady Emma Keyes approached Enid with her haughty nose in the air. “Your kind is not welcome here,” she declared. “You should go before you further embarrass yourself.”
As Enid tried to think of a retort, Lord Roswell spoke up. “Lady Enid will be joining me in my box this evening, assuming she is agreeable to that.”
Lady Emma pursed her lips. “Why would you sully yourself with a trollop, my lord?” she asked. “If you need a companion, I would be more than happy to introduce you to a few young women.”
“That is not necessary,” Lord Roswell replied.
“My lord,” Lady Emma started, “you must think of your mother. If word ever got out that you were associating with women of loose morals, such as Lady Enid, she would be devastated. It could cause her to fall into an early grave.”
Lord Roswell visibly tensed. “You know not what you speak of and I would encourage you to bite your tongue.”
“I know precisely what I speak of,” Lady Emma declared.
Taking a step closer to the infuriating woman, Lord Roswell asked, “How is your son doing? Last I heard, he got his mistress pregnant and then abandoned her.”
Lady Emma’s eyes darted around the room. “That is neither here nor there.”
“But it speaks to his character, and yours, if I am not mistaken,” Lord Roswell said. “After all, you raised him. One must question what was taught in your home.”
She gave him an indignant look. “I am not my son’s keeper.”
Lord Roswell shrugged one shoulder. “No, but, out of all these people, you should not be the one casting the first stone.”
“I am merely speaking what everyone is thinking,” Lady Emma declared.
“How noble of you,” Lord Roswell mocked.
Lady Emma narrowed her eyes. “I am going to call upon your mother and tell her all about your deplorable actions this evening.”
“I hope you do,” Lord Roswell said.
With a huff, Lady Emma declared, “Well, I never.” She spun on her heel and walked back towards her female companions.
