Page 79 of Miss Delancey’s Tragicomedy

“He’ll want to see the country house,” Dessie went on. “But we should save that for later. We need to be in London for Lady Townes’ trial. If there is one. Apparently, it all hinges on whether or not Mr. Cameron can find witnesses. He’s not coming for your lesson today, by the by. He sent word.” Dessie jumped. “Oh!”

“What is it?”

“I just had an even better idea. Not a ball. We’ll rent out a theater and Mr. Cameron can give a recital.” She squeezed Ophelia’s elbow. “I can’t wait!” Abruptly, she frowned. “I’m going to have to talk to Mrs. Dobbs and redo all the menus.” She beamed again. “No, I can’t possibly sit still. Let’s go buy new bonnets!”

*

Ophelia could not sit still either. Her body was in the carriage with Dessie, but her thoughts were still lodged in Trentham’s curricle, hearing his “this time, it’s for love.” Her mind kept taking detours from her attempts at practical good sense to revisit the previous night in the library, and to daydream of more kissing. And that particular delight. If it was anything like his kisses…

But did he love her? What if he’d told Fanny he loved her too?

And for pity’s sake! He hadn’t even mentioned the duel! What if he’d killed Fanny’s husband? Or brother? A shudder ran through her. Why did he fail to confess that?

Rather than going straight to the milliners, Dessie told the carriage driver to take them first to Gunther’s for tea and ices. Dessie was suddenly ravenous, despite having just lunched. Ophelia wondered if she would tell Daddy that he was soon to be the grandfather of the next Earl of Lynchford. He was bound to notice that his daughter was no longer slender, took frequent unexpected naps, and ate like a horse.

Dessie was so full of plans for entertaining that she showed no interest in Ophelia’s outing with Trentham. Thank goodness. And as usual, her sister’s enthusiasm was contagious. It would be fun to have Daddy and Aunt Grace in London.

Arm-in-arm, the Delancey sisters entered the tea shop, giggling together over memories of New York. Gunther’s was nearly full. Shoppers of all ages crowded around tables, their packages and parcels stacked on metal chairs beside them. The air held a delightful scent of steaming tea. But the moment they sat at an empty place, Dessie’s laughter stopped. She gaped. Then nudged Ophelia’s arm.

“Look there. No, wait! Don’t turn around. Just, slowly, look behind you.”

How was she supposed to look behind without turning around? “Who is it?”

“Lady Elizabeth and her maid. With Viscount Hayworth.” She grinned. “Good gracious. They look like two children, huddling over their cakes. Whoops! She sees us.” Dessie gave a wave. Now Ophelia turned. Lady Elizabeth rose with seeming reluctance and came to them.

After an exchange of “good afternoons,” Lady Elizabeth fiddled with her sleeve cuffs, then said, “Lord Hayworth and I are continuing our discussion of Orchomenus.” For a moment, her eyes lit up. “He’s befriended Sophia Schliemann. A woman archeologist. She works with her husband.”

“How lovely!” Dessie said, her all-purpose response to someone else’s enthusiasm.

Lady Elizabeth slid into an empty chair and leaned forward to whisper. “Are you going to tell His Grace?”

Ophelia and Dessie stared at her blankly. Then Ophelia asked, “Tell him what?”

The girl let out a sigh. “That you saw us here. Together.”

Ophelia nearly laughed, but Dessie put on an air of solemnity and said, “Not if you don’t want us to.”

“I don’t know,” she whined. “I would if it would put him off. But nothing does! When Lord Hayworth came to take me for a carriage ride, Mama said it would be a good idea for me to go.” She lowered her voice. “To make him jealous.”

“Trentham?” Dessie asked, frowning.

Lady Elizabeth nodded. “But I don’t want him to be jealous. I don’t want to spur him to offer for me. You both know that’s the last thing I want.”

Ophelia swallowed the lump of guilt in her throat. Trentham would not be jealous. Nor would he feel pressured to propose by the threat of a rival. Lady Elizabeth was going to end up appearing even more pitiful in the eyes of Society. And what would Lady Elizabeth think of her? She wasn’t a dishonest person. She had never in her life stolen another girl’s beau. But Lady Elizabeth would remember sitting here, discussing Trentham’s courtship, and she would know that Ophelia had not told the truth.

“Well, we’re hardly going to run tattling to Trentham.” Dessie took Lady Elizabeth’s hand and squeezed it. “But he might find out. We’re not the only ones to see you together.”

Lady Elizabeth hung her head. Then she stood up, pouting. “It isn’t fair. I wish I had some control over my own life.”

They watched the retreating figure, and after a moment, Dessie muttered, “How ridiculous. She does have control. All she has to do is tell Robin ‘no’.” Then she snickered. “Lady Barrington is absurd. Can you imagine Robin jealous of Hayworth?”

This was the opening Ophelia needed to make her own confession. But she merely shook her head. Not now. Not here. “Never in a million years.”

*

Trentham had disappeared.

No, he hadn’t. They’d gone for their carriage ride on Tuesday, and it was now Thursday. It had only been two days. Two very busy days. Not even that. It was still morning. He might still come today.