Page 75 of The Gentleman’s Leading Lady

But so had her mother admitting she loved Evans and consenting to give him her hand in marriage. Gwen’s meeting Penrydd, who’d once owned the place, changed all of their fortunes for the better. Those two women offered proof that marriage could be a state of great felicity. When the man was devoted and true.

“Oh, there is her ladyship! I wondered where she had gone to. She’ll be ever so gratified that we found you.” Miss Wade brightened as she looked across the room. “Winston, do go bring Lady Baeccon—oh, never mind, she has seen us already.”

“Lady Baeccon is here?” The taste in Cerys’s mouth turned bitter. She did not want to see Bathsheba Baeccon, not when Cerys had so recently left the arms of the man who had once held and loved Bathsheba.

What if he did not love Cerys, could never love Cerys, the way he had once loved another? What if her ladyship had indeed broken his spirit and left him the bitter crust of a man? Could Cerys be happy spending her life with a shadow?

“Oh, she won’t make us leave yet, will she?” Winston exclaimed. “I have several more samples I would like to collect.”

“You came with her?” Cerys asked. She sounded like a mockingbird echoing sounds, no thoughts of its own.

“Yes, she brought her coach to town, which is terribly convenient as it can be such a trial to hire one. And our aunt is the hardiest soul, she would prefer to walk everywhere she can.” Miss Wade wrinkled her nose.

Her ladyship spotted them and was bearing down. Bathsheba wore yet another ensemble taken directly from the latest fashion plate, a long pelisse of amber-colored velvet trimmed with what appeared to be Astracan fur, a lambswool from Persia. Her sleeves had the pointy lace of Spanish cuffs and her Algerian helmet hat, more velvet trimmed with fur, gave her a vaguely martial appearance. Her dark eyes glittered as she breached their circle.

“Miss Evans.” Her ladyship made no effort at polite greetings, indeed gave no acknowledgement of the others. “I have been learning much about you from your friend.”

“How delighted I am that Miss Wade would consider me a friend.” Cerys, at least, was determined to be polite. “I am surprised to find you here, Lady Baeccon, considering how very many spas there are to be found in Cheltenham, and it is not the most fashionable hour for taking the waters.”

“You went to Dante’s house today,” Bathsheba said. “They told us at Suffolk House where you had gone. The ones you had not included in your invitation.”

She delivered the words as an accusation, and Cerys found herself rising to the defense. “Dante extended the invitation. Dorsey stayed behind with some of the men to spend the day making improvements to our stage, and Lady Diana had another obligation.” The obligation was not to be inconvenienced by the noise and fuss of house building, or by the mud and weather of a picnic, with a too-warm sun or a too-chill breeze.

“You spent the day with him.”

Ah, so that was the fly goading her. Cerys simply nodded and curled her hands around her tumbler, prepared to give nothing away.

“He’s made our Cerys an offer of marriage,” Dot said. She hated Bathsheba’s lofty attitude and was the first to rise to it.

Everyone in the circle froze in tableau, as if struck by the wrath leaping in Lady Baeccon’s eyes.

“He wants to marry you,” Bathsheba repeated, and was that hurt in her tone?

“You’re to marry?” Miss Wade exclaimed. “Why, that means congratulations in order, Miss Evans! And who would be the fortunate man?”

“Nothing has been decided yet,” Cerys said.

“But of course she’ll have him,” Dot drawled. “Who among us wouldn’t?”

It was snapping bait before a chained and hungry dog, and Dot knew it.

“Miss Evans, would you permit me to take you home in my carriage? There are one or two things I would like to discuss with you.” Bathsheba’s eyes glittered.

“I am perfectly happy returning in Andover’s equipage, thank you,” Cerys said.

“There’d be more room if you went with her ladyship,” said Rhoda, who was not the type to catch the undercurrents of a conversation, and particularly not when her comfort was involved.

“I am not prepared to leave at this time,” Winston exclaimed. “I have more samples to gather. Miss Tryphenie has agreed to help me.”

Tryphenie, looking guilty, opened her mouth to protest, but Bathsheba pounced.

“You would not wish to inconvenience your friends, Miss Evans, or to disappoint me. I will deposit you, then return for Mr. and Miss Wade. This will give us an opportunity to discuss the matter of Lord Baeccon’s investment in your theater.”

Cerys gritted her teeth. That was bait of her own, and Bathsheba knew it. For all that Cerys had taken command in the matter of the new theater, she could not decline to pursue conversations about procuring funds. Even if she suspected the bait was a ruse.

“I should welcome his lordship fulfilling the pledge he made to us,” Cerys said. “But I hope the journey will not be long? It has been a fatiguing day.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt. Collecting offers of marriage.” Bathsheba’s lip curled. “You must be delirious with joy.”