Page 44 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

‘Don’t be dramatic, Candace. That was long ago and a lady must put the past behind her.’

Candace’s voice dropped an octave. ‘A year is not that long ago, Mother. And Society has not forgotten.’

A heaviness centered in Nora’s chest for her sister. She hated that her sister’s heart had been broken. Nora had never taken her mother’s side before, but maybe, just maybe, Candace needed to set the past aside and disregard the vicious gossipmongers and focus on her happiness.

‘There is a man worthy of our dear Candace, Mother,’ Nora said. Of that fact, she was certain.

Candace looked at Nora with gratitude and relief.

As for herself, it was too early to judge her own fledging marriage.

Chapter Thirteen

The science salon arrived two days later. Preparation had brought the drawing room to life. Other than the velvet drapes and gilded candelabra on the mantel, the room had been transformed. A small table bearing the brass microscope was placed where the morning light would strike it. Seashells Nora had collected from English shores as well as those her father had given her from his vast travels were artfully displayed on other tables. She’d even added other items from her father, a small starfish, a fossil and the delicate skeleton of a seahorse, it’s curled tail still preserved, in a curiosity cabinet in the corner of the room.

For the fifth time, Nora moved the largest shell, a giant spider conch from the Indian Ocean her father had traded for, to a different table. Her nerves were tense. Would the ladies enjoy a science salon or hate it?

The scrape of footsteps sounded outside before Ralston stepped into the room. He glanced about, his eyes resting on the microscope then the shells on display.

‘It looks remarkable,’ he said, his voice warm. ‘The ladies will be fascinated.’

She tilted her head, unsure. ‘Do you think so? Or will they think I’m eccentric…an oddity.’

‘They did not think so at the garden party, remember?’

She wasn’t as certain as he was. Her nerves were tense, but she had little time to fret because the ladies arrived on time and Mrs Hanning saw them to the drawing room.

They settled onto the drawing room’s padded chairs and button-tufted sofa. Silk skirts rustled and fans fluttered. The same ladies that she’d met at the garden party were all in attendance. Lady Weber was dressed in a blue gown with a ruffled hem, Lady Modal in puce satin, and Lady Smithson in yellow with scarf held in place with an amber brooch. Two others, whom Nora had briefly met at the garden party, had arrived to make a group of eight. Her sisters did not want to attend and thought it best if Nora hosted her first event on her own as a new countess with fellow titled ladies.

Ralston stepped forward and bowed. ‘Good day, ladies. I’m certain you will find everything as fascinating as I did when I met my lovely wife.’

The ladies sighed and laughed. His grin was as charming as his demeanor. Sunlight from the open curtains glinted off his dark hair. His teeth flashed white in his attractive face and the women in the room appeared just as captivated as Nora.

She nearly forgot it was all for show.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and the women appeared to watch enviously. With a sly wink, he departed the room.

‘Is that a microscope?’ Lady Modal spoke first, squinting towards the contraption. ‘I’ve heard of them but have never seen one.’

‘It is.’ Nora was happy to speak of her new scientific device. ‘This microscope can magnify an item up to four hundred times its actual size. Would you care to see for yourself?’

She slid a prepared slide into place with practiced hands. She understood a microscope, like a telescope, was meant to impress one who engaged with it, just as one would a painting from a master artist like Reynolds or Gainsborough.

The women gathered around and, one by one, leaned forward to peer into the curved eyepiece. ‘It looks like a jagged piece of metal,’ Lady Modal said.

‘What is it?’ another asked.

‘A hat pin,’ Nora said. ‘One I received from Madame Fleur on Bond Street.’

Others chimed in. ‘Indeed! I own several!’

Soon the ladies moved to the seashells on the tables. They picked them up and fingered their smooth curves and ridges. Nora explained where they were from, some from Cornwall she’d collected, and the others from shores as far away as Greece, Persia, and the Great Barrier Reef in Australia.

‘People have been collecting shells since before the Egyptians. They have been used for jewelry, headdresses snuffboxes, even architecture,’ Nora said.

Lady Modal’s expression brightened. ‘I visited Goodwood Park in Sussex last summer. There is a little pavilion there lined entirely with shells. It’s charming with shining white, pink and mauve seashells. It’s said that it took the second Duchess of Richmond and her daughters seven years to complete.’

‘I’ve heard of it, and I hope to visit one day,’ Nora said. ‘There is another shell grotto at Oatland’s Park where the Duke of York entertained the emperor of Russia and other victors of Waterloo for a grand supper. The walls are encrusted with glistening cowries and white and pink shells. One of the corridors leading to the grotto is lined with the teeth of horses killed on the field of Waterloo.’