“I could just cry and I do not even know what’s happened,” Serenity said, dabbing at her eyes.
“It seems there was simply a mix-up,” Grace said, trying very hard not to weep with Serenity. “The florist has made a mistake. The daisies were for me… for friendship. The roses were meant to be delivered to Lady Lavender and the florist accidentally sent both arrangements here.”
“Let me see that note,” the duke said.
Grace handed it over, though she knew very well that her father would not see anything in it that she had not seen herself.
The duke examined it and laid it on a table. “Does not make a lick of sense. I am not blind, I know what I’m looking at when I look at a young gentleman. No reason for Dashlend to go sending roses to Lady Lavender.”
“But he has done,” Grace said. “Why should he not? Lady Lavender is everything genial and she is pretty, and she is good at nearly everything in the world. She is graceful, which I already know he values. She is a diamond of the first water. Why should I have supposed that Lord Dashlend preferred me over the glorious Lady Lavender?”
“Because he does,” the duke said.
“I fear you are mistaken, Papa,” Grace said. “Well, goodness, what a day. I think I will just repair to my room and lie down for a while. I am developing a headache. A rest will cure me, I’m sure. We will just return the roses to the florist so they might correct their mistake. Now, nobody is to bother me in my room, as that will not help my headache.”
With that, Grace hurried from the drawing room. She could not bear the pitying looks from her sisters, nor her father’s unwillingness to believe what was right in front of them.
Everything had been so wonderful and full of promise and then she’d read that note. It was a crushing blow, as if the note had stolen the air from her lungs. In that instant, everything she thought was happening had been ripped from her, leaving her with the awful and sad truth. Lord Dashlend had merely been friendly, or amusing himself.
She should have known! Mrs. Right had warned them all, over and over, about London people. Grace Nicolet could not compare to Lady Lavender, she was not of the same caliber, she was not accomplished. And, to top it off, she had two left feet, which Lord Dashlend had been early informed of.
Perhaps he’d been so friendly because it would not occur to him that she would imagine herself worthy of anything more serious. He’d not had to caution himself, or worry that he led a lady on, because it would be too absurd for her to imagine it.
There was a quick knock on the door and Mrs. Right hurried through it. Though Grace had warned her sisters from following her, of course Mrs. Right would not be put off.
“There, love, what’s happened?” she said, coming to the bed and chafing her hand.
Between fits of weeping, Grace poured out the whole story of the misdirected flowers and her misdirected thoughts about Lord Dashlend.
Mrs. Right’s expression grew darker the more she heard of it. Grace could not fail to recall what had happened to Mr. Stratton at the hands of their housekeeper last season, when it looked as if he’d misled Felicity about his intentions.
“Mrs. Right,” she said, “you must promise me you are not to meddle in Lord Dashlend’s grocery order, or make him an enemy to his wine merchant, or have his laundress donate all his clothes to a charity.”
Mrs. Right delicately raised her brows. “Certainly not, dove. Now I suppose you really do have a headache. I will have one of the maids bring up a cold cloth for your brow and a cup of tea with the smallest drop of laudanum. That will allow you to sleep for a few hours and things will look better for you when you wake up.”
Grace nodded. She did not really think she would feel better after sleeping, but just now sleeping would be a welcome escape. She’d been exceedingly foolish, perhaps even conceited and entertaining an overblown opinion of her charms. At least she might awaken with more sense than she’d had so far.
Chapter Fifteen
MRS.RIGHT WASnot amused by the day’s events. How dare anyone impose on her Grace in such a manner? To pay such marked attention, only to prefer another lady? And then, to be the author of this florist mix-up? Had the man hired the stupidest florist in London?
It was enraging.
Mrs. Right did not know this Lady Lavender who was to receive roses, but she was certain the lady could not hold a candle to Grace Nicolet. She would not stand idly by while her dear Grace had been so cruelly humiliated.
No. Mrs. Agnes Right did not stand by when one of her girls was insulted. These girls were in her charge and she protected them as fiercely as she would her own. She’d not had her own, and so these girls had become her own. Lord Dashlend must pay for this insult. He must pay dearly. She would rip him limb from limb if she could.
As she could not accomplish that feat, Mrs. Right paced her quarters, thinking of what shecoulddo. Grace had already elicited a promise that she would not meddle with Lord Dashlend’s grocery order or wine order or the clothes he sent out to the laundress.
What did she know about Lord Dashlend’s household? She knew he had a high-strung valet; Reynolds had done no end of complaining about Mr. Moreau. She knew Dashlend had just now Lady Margaret staying in his house, a lady of older years and even older fashion. She knew he seemed to love the boat he’d come near to sinking, as when he’d been at the inn he’d made all sorts of arrangements about it. She knew he was considered a Corinthian.
Certainly, something could be made of one of those things.
She might arrange to have one of his legs broken, thereby ending his days as a Corinthian. But she could not break a man’s leg on her own, she’d have to hire somebody. That did give her pause. Everybody knew that a secret was no longer a secret if more than one person knew about it. It was bound to get out that she was at the bottom of it.
Paying to have his boat hauled out to sea and set afire would be fitting and glorious, but it came with precisely the same risk.
Mrs. Right did not know what could be done regarding Lady Margaret, but something might come to mind.
