Page 55 of Miss Delancey’s Tragicomedy

“Trentham?”

“Mmm-hmm. He was just two or three years old. And the new wife—”

“Trentham’s mother.” The harpist.

They swayed side-to-side as the coach turned and the road smoothed out again.

“Yes.” Dessie lowered her voice again, suiting it to the quieting of the wheels. “Lynch says Trentham’s mother was a wonderful woman. Truly. But she had her hands full as a new duchess, and she’d given the duke an heir, and Felicity may have felt unloved, you see. Neglected. But be that as it may, when Sir George asked permission to court her, the duke said yes. And when he asked her to marry him, she said yes. I don’t know if the marriage was ever a happy one.” She paused. “Although they do have three children.”

“Which does not indicate a love match.”

“No.” Dessie frowned. “Lynch says that Sir George has had a string of mistresses and a number of illicit affairs. They mostly live apart.”

Her heart went out to the woman. “It sounds dreadful.”

“Yes, well, then I made the mistake of pointing out that Lady Elizabeth is seventeen and Robin is in his thirties…”

“Oh, Dessie, you didn’t!” This was where she had been leading! “You can’t think Trentham would be so cruel.”

“Well, but we don’t know, do we? He did do something awful if prominent members of the ton won’t receive him.” She harumphed with indignation. “And Lynch came back with the argument that Robin isn’t thirty yet. He’s twenty-nine!” Dessie shook her head. “Can you imagine that for a rebuttal? Couldn’t he have argued Robin would not take mistresses? But the idea sprang into my head that we should get Lady Elizabeth and Lady Townes together. And maybe frighten Lady Elizabeth with the reality of what an unhappily married woman looks like.”

Ophelia choked. “That is your step two?” The plan, built upon a scaffold of gossip, was appalling. And to suggest that Trentham would be a poor husband…

“Yes, but that really infuriated Lynch. He said, practically shouted—this is truly ghastly—but he said Robin would never ever hit a lady, which shocked me to my toes. I wouldn’t imply that about Robin.”

“Wait. Slow down. Sir George hits Lady Townes? And what were you willing to imply about Trentham?”

“There are rumors he might be violent. Sir George, of course I mean, not Robin. And not that he has hit Lady Townes. I can’t see Robin permitting that, even if it is a husband’s right. But Lynch said some of his paramours have sported bruises.” Dessie frowned. “And I don’t think it is so very farfetched to imply Robin would have mistresses. Any number of men do.”

But Trentham would not even flirt because it would be disrespectful to Lady Elizabeth. What would Dessie make of that? Ophelia turned this all over in her head, then said, “Lynch told you not to pursue step two?”

“Yes.” She scowled.

“Yet you were ready to do it anyway.”

Dessie nodded.

“For me?” Ophelia whispered. This was terrible. Lovely, but terrible. Dessie would risk angering Lynch for her?

“For you and Lady Elizabeth. I don’t know if he’s right for you, Ophelia. We still have to discover that. But I know he is wrong for Lady Elizabeth. And she’s wrong for him! And…” Her voice broke, “and Lynch should be on her side, not the side of everything that’s wrong with the way the world treats women. To say Robin is doing her a kindness? As if he truly is the ton’s sacrificial lamb? Is there anything more patronizing than that?”

“But Dessie—” The image of Lynch shouting at Dessie, or her at him, brought tears to Ophelia’s eyes.

Dessie raised her chin and said stubbornly, “We need to bring Lady Townes and Lady Elizabeth together.”

“Why?” This was sounding more and more desperate. And farfetched. “You can’t think Lady Townes will have her unhappiness out on display.”

“She did last night.” Dessie sighed. Then she rapped on the roof again and called out, “John, take us to St. Martin’s Street.”

“Dessie, we just called on Lady Townes yesterday. We can’t show up on her doorstep again so soon. It’s gauche.”

“Yes, but now, after all this, I’m worried about her. Aren’t you?”

*

Once more, Ophelia found herself at Lady Townes’ doorstep. However, this time, before Dessie reached for the knocker, the door opened and a young man stepped out. All three drew back, startled. The fellow reached up to tip his bowler hat, but then merely touched it, blushed, and walked quickly away.

“How awkward,” Dessie muttered, as they both watched him retreat.