Chapter Thirteen
When Lilith hadarrived to Lady Jellerbey’s house, she’d been fully prepared to gauge the effects of the caricature she’d sent flying around the town. It would take time to really establish a foothold, as she’d only had a small amount of money and so could not purchase as many copies as she would have liked, but surely somebody present would have seen one. That was all that was needed to get the thing going. If there was one thing thetonliked to do, it was to relay terrible stories about somebody else.
She’d been waylaid in the great hall by Lady Farthingale and told the tale of Lady Rareton’s card party and the poisonous mayonnaise. Apparently, the guests who consumed it were taken ill, including Lady Pegatha, who was said to do very poorly.
That was when she realized the evening would not be quite what she imagined. Lord Wembly would not leave his aunt when she suffered an illness, and therefore, he would not come.
But then she’d had an idea. Might not there be something made of his failing to attend? She’d been all along thinking of driving Lord Wembly away from Lady Verity, but perhaps she could drive Lady Verity away from Lord Wembly as well.
She’d searched the dim rooms and finally found Lady Verity and the duke. They stood with another couple, one of which she believed was Lord Dashlend. That would mean the other was Lady Verity’s sister, if she’d got the connections straight.
They all looked exceedingly jolly, which meant they knew nothing of the caricature going round. Certainly it must mean that. Who could be jolly when they were mocked in a print?
Lilith had hurried over and made a great show of things. She thought she’d done a credible job of looking caught out and confused about Lord Wembly’s whereabouts, ending with: “You have not heard.” Never was there a more ominous statement when it came to London society.
“Heard what?” the duke asked.
“Goodness,” Lilith said, maintaining her flustered appearance, “I do not think, rather I am certain, it is not for me to say.” She motioned as if she would leave the party, assuming the duke would stop her from doing just that. Which he did.
“Wait a moment,” the duke said. “One cannot very well say that we have not heard something and not say what it is we have not heard.”
Lilith pretended at being an unwilling deliverer of news. “Well, I suppose, that is, people are saying…he does not come because of the print going round.”
“What print?” Lady Verity asked, sounding mortified.
“Oh, as to that, I have not seen it myself. From what has been described to me, it is, oh goodness, I do not like to say.”
“You had better say,” Lord Dashlend said, looking grim.
Lilith put on a look meant to convey she would not for the world repeat the information, but she was being forced to do it. “As I understand it,” she said slowly, “it pictures Lady Verity lecturing at the Royal Society. You know, about the fish seeing out of water, something about the River Esk. And it is noted that a red-haired gentleman looks on. Just a bit of teasing, I’m sure. But then, Lord Wembly is rather prickly about The Royal Society.”
The duke, Lady Verity, and Lord and Lady Dashlend all stared at one another.
Lilith curtsied. “I’d really better go.” She hurried away, certain she had accomplished something. Lord Wembly did not come because Lady Pegatha was ill, but for all Lady Verity and the duke knew, he did not come because he was offended by the caricature.
Now, all there was to do was drift round the candlelight picnic with her ears open, listening for any news of her prints. She’d done what she could, now she just must wait and see what came of it.
*
Verity had knownthat her ridiculous story of the inquiry into whether a fish could see out of water had been talked about. But an actual print mocking it! That was something else entirely. Lady Lilith had said it mentioned The Royal Society—Lord Wembly’s very own society. The society he’d dedicated years to was now mocked and ridiculed. It had pointed to Lord Wembly himself by mentioning a red-haired gentleman.
She’d thought telling Lord Wembly that she could not read would be the real test. But it was not. This was the real test. Could he possibly overlook being personally mocked? Could he overlook his society being mocked? The answer stared her in the face—he had not come.
One minute, he was sending her sisters a thoughtful gift and the next he was avoiding her. That really said it all.
Her whole body felt heavy and there was a very good chance she was going to cry, though she was working hard against it.
“All right,” the duke said after Lady Lilith hurried away, “I do not know quite what has gone on, but I think we will not like to stay.”
“I will make inquiries into this matter, Your Grace,” Lord Dashlend said.
“Papa,” Grace said, “go and give our excuses to Lady Jellerbey and call the carriage. I will take Verity to the retiring room until she can leave.”
“Right,” the duke said. “I’ll claim she has a headache.”
As all these arrangements were made, Verity only nodded. She would agree to anything, as she did not know what ought to be done. Grace took her by the hand and led her down the corridor. They entered the lady’s retiring room, which was a long room of small and private apartments. Grace smiled at the attendant as if there was not a thing wrong, though it must seem odd that they entered the last of the apartments together.
Aside from the chamber pot covered by an ornately decorated wood lid, there was a small sofa and a looking glass. “Now,” Grace said, as they sat down, “at times like these, it is very important to think of nothing. Nothing at all. Empty your mind. You’ll have time to think when you are in the carriage.”
