Page 54 of Miss Delancey’s Tragicomedy

There was more. Too much more. Before finally falling asleep, Ophelia had tossed and turned until dawn, mulling over what Trentham had said: He’d insulted her at the Barringtons’ ball to be respectful of the lady he’d decided to court. Did that make him a rogue? Or the opposite?

“He told me that he’d apologized for accusing Mr. Cameron of impropriety.”

“He did?” Her sister’s eyes lit. “That’s better. What else?”

Ophelia hesitated. Had Trentham spoken in confidence? His courting of Lady Elizabeth was now common knowledge. But the rest she wasn’t ready to share. Not until she had answers to the questions that had plagued her all night.

First, when he’d decided to woo Lady Elizabeth, how many women had he felt he had to…put aside? Would it hurt even more to learn that she was not the only one? Second, why had he abused Mr. Cameron with words he now said he didn’t mean? And third—perhaps the most curious—why was he courting Lady Elizabeth? Ophelia was more interested in these questions than in the mystery of some long-ago wrongdoing.

But Dessie was awaiting an answer.

“Nothing else. Mr. Cameron returned too quickly.”

“Blast.” Dessie screwed up her face. “Well, that was an unproductive use of a good opportunity.”

Ophelia gasped a laugh. “What did you expect me to do? Command him to woo me instead of Lady Elizabeth?”

Dessie turned aside and lifted the edge of the curtain. “We’re almost there.” A moment later, she said, “Oh! Oh, stop the carriage!” She rapped on the roof and called again to the coachman, “John, stop! Turn around.”

As the landau slowed, Dessie beckoned Ophelia to the window. “Look.”

Ophelia peered out. Trentham’s coach was in the Barrington’s drive. Her stomach lurched. Whether he was coming or going, she didn’t want to cross paths.

“Take us back home, John!” Dessie called out.

“Yes, my lady,” the coachman answered, steering them down a side street.

“Do you think he saw us?” Dessie whispered. She slouched away from the window as if she imagined he could glimpse her inside.

“I don’t know.” It struck her as odd that Dessie was more fearful of meeting up with Trentham than she was. “Why are we hiding?”

Dessie sat up straight and pouted. “Because Robin will tell Lynch that he saw us at Lady Elizabeth’s.”

“And?”

“And Lynch told me to leave it alone. To leave Robin and Lady Elizabeth alone.”

That sounded like resignation on Lynch’s part, which was not a good sign. “I thought he said we should persuade her to reject Trentham’s suit.”

“Yes, well, that was before I told him about step two.”

A cold shiver ran down Ophelia’s spine. “And what exactly does he object to?” Dessie had said they were just going to gauge Lady Elizabeth’s current level of interest, and try nudging her toward giving Trentham a “no.”

“It’s complicated.”

“We have time.” At least a quarter hour until they were home.

Dessie let out a long sigh. “You wouldn’t have noticed, but Lady Townes was bothered by something last night, especially so in the second act. When we got home, I asked Lynch if he saw it. He was evasive at first, but I wore him down.” Her lips pursed. “You can’t repeat this, of course.”

“I won’t.” Who would she tell?

“He told me Lady Townes was often unhappy. Her marriage is a mess, and it’s a source of concern to Robin. Lynch said she was only seventeen when she wed Sir George. He was in his thirties.”

Ophelia swallowed an “Oh!” in her throat. She thought she saw where Dessie was heading and didn’t want to hear it.

“At the time, he was considered to be exceedingly handsome and charming, if rather a rake. But he latched onto her, possibly because she was a duke’s daughter with a significant dowry. She was lovely, too, of course. At any rate, her father allowed Sir George to court her.”

The carriage began shuddering as they reached a rough cobbled stretch of road. Dessie raised her voice. “The old duke was…Lynch says there is no proof of this, but it makes sense in a sad way. He was quite enamored of his new wife and their baby son—”