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“Well, I thought I’d pop in to see how you all were doing,” Miss Picklewood said, exchanging a look Artemis couldn’t interpret with Maximus.
The duke’s expression had shut down as surely as a door closing. “I trust your friend is doing better?”
“Oh, much,” Miss Bathilda said as she sat. Footmen scurried under the eagle eye of the butler to set another place for her. “And dear Mrs. White was so sweet. She told me I must come at once, just for a small visit, so that I wouldn’t tire of Bath.”
“That was kind,” Maximus replied flatly.
“Now, dear.” Miss Picklewood turned to Phoebe. “You must tell me what you did today.”
Artemis was quiet, poking the tines of her fork gently into her fish as she listened to Phoebe prattle. Once she glanced up and caught Maximus staring at her broodingly. She couldn’t help a shiver of premonition. It seemed very strange that Miss Picklewood would leave her friend’s sickbed just to “pop in.”
It wasn’t until after a lovely apple tart that Artemis could only pick at that she found out Miss Picklewood’s true intent.
She and Phoebe rose to retire into the sitting room for tea, but the older lady spoke up, halting them. “Artemis, dear, won’t you stay here? I do wish to discuss something with you and His Grace.” Phoebe’s brows knit, and Miss Picklewood addressed her, “Phoebe, Agnes can help you to the sitting room. We’ll be along in a bit.”
Phoebe hesitated, but in the end accepted the arm of Agnes the maid and left the room.
Artemis slowly retook her seat.
“Panders,” Miss Picklewood addressed the butler, “can you leave His Grace’s brandy? We shan’t have need of you for the next half hour, I think.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Panders said without a speck of curiosity.
“Oh, and Panders? I do know you’ll make sure we’re not overheard.”
At that subtle hint about the eavesdropping of servants, Panders stiffened imperceptibly. “Of course, ma’am.”
And then, he, too was gone.
Maximus sat back in his chair, looking like a particularly dangerous cat lounging. “What is this about, Bathilda?”
Artemis was rather admiring of Miss Picklewood’s courage. She didn’t even hesitate as she looked at her powerful relative. “You’ve seduced Miss Greaves.”
Maximus didn’t move. “Where did you hear that?”
Miss Picklewood waved a hand and reached over to take the decanter of brandy. She spoke as she poured herself a slight inch into the empty wineglass before her. “Where I heard it from doesn’t matter. What matters is that it is true and it is now, or very soon will be, public knowledge.”
“What I do in the privacy of my own home is no business of anyone’s but mine,” Maximus said with all the arrogance of a man with a thousand years of aristocratic ancestors.
Miss Bathilda took a delicate sip of her brandy. “I’m sorry, but I must disagree, Your Grace. What you do, even in the privacy of your own home, affects many other people, including Phoebe.” She set down her glass firmly. “You cannot keep your mistress in the same house as your maiden sister. Even you must bow to the dictates of society.”
Artemis’s gaze dropped to the table. She noticed absently that her hands, laid sedately on the wood before her, were trembling. Carefully, she balled her fingers and let her hands drop to her lap.
Maximus waved his hand as if he were swatting a fly. “Artemis won’t corrupt Phoebe, you’re aware of that.”
“You know as well as I that a reputation is based purely upon what is perceived rather than any reality. You’ve made Miss Greaves a fallen woman. By her very presence she soils all ladies around her.”
“Bathilda!” Maximus’s warning was a growl.
Artemis couldn’t help a small gasp at the same time. She’d known what she was now, but to have it so bluntly stated by someone she’d considered a friend was still shocking.
Miss Picklewood turned to Artemis for the first time. Her face was determined, but her eyes were sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but I did warn you, my dear.”
Artemis nodded, ignoring Maximus’s glower. “So you did.”
“You need to leave.”
Artemis held the other woman’s gaze. “And I will. But tomorrow night Phoebe has her heart set on seeing the opera at Harte’s Folly with the other ladies from the Ladies’ Syndicate. She’ll be upset if I don’t attend.”
