Page 56 of The Smuggler’s Escape

She made a contemptuous noise. She wouldn’t have any reason to flirt with Lord Harry once Richard was gone. He stood and put out an implacable hand to help her change places.

“Yes, please do move closer, Mademoiselle de Vallon,” Dorothea said, ever polite. “We have a great deal in common.”

Noelle stood, because as usual when it came to Richard, she had no choice. He switched her almost untouched plate with his empty one, and pulled out his chair for her. She hesitated, wishing there were some other way out, but she wasn’t so rag-mannered as to snub Dorothea in front of all these people. That gauche remark about poetry had been bad enough. She composed herself and sat down.

Richard shrugged into his greatcoat, received his hat from the waiter, and set it rakishly over his dark hair. He flicked a curl next to Noelle’s ear. “Eat up, love. You’re going to need your strength later.”

She would kill him.

“Once you are married to Lord Boltwood, you will have the means and the freedom to assist in many noble causes, as we discussed earlier,” Dorothea said. “Tell me, Mademoiselle de Vallon, do you have any specific plans in mind?”

Poor Miss Darsington, so kind despite her disappointment. Very well, thought Noelle, she would assist in the process of handing Richard over. The more scandalous Noelle became, the more people would expect the engagement to end.

“I intend to found a society for the protection of prostitutes,” she pronounced.

Richard, who had just reached the door, broke out laughing.

Lucretia squeaked, “Noelle!”

Uncle Matthew turned purple. Lady Darsington gasped and clapped a hand to her substantial chest. Lady Boltwood opened her mouth and shut it again. Lord Harry chuckled.

Richard hooted with laughter.

“Stop that,” Dorothea said. “It’s not funny.”

Richard quieted, but still he shook all over. Dorothea Darsington turned to Noelle, an almost fierce expression on her lovely face. “My dear Mademoiselle de Vallon, that is a truly praiseworthy notion! I have just such an ambition myself!”

Chaos broke loose—Uncle Matthew shouting, Lady Darsington trumpeting, Lady Boltwood uttering fruitless calming phrases, and Lucretia cringing in her chair. Lord Harry controlled his amusement and even rolled his eyes kindly at poor Lucretia.

Instead of attempting to smooth things over like a good host should, Richard bade them all a cheerful farewell and walked away whistling.

Noelle sent a glance at Dorothea, whose fierceness had vanished under a mortified flush. Why, in heaven’s name, had that perfect, rather reserved girl supported her, embarrassing herself quite dreadfully, after Noelle had been so rude?

And how unnecessary, for Noelle had no such ambition. Not that it was a bad idea, but she’d never thought about it before. The damning words had simply burst from her lips.

Reproaches from the other end of the table washed over her, while a waiter gaped from the doorway. Soon the entire inn would know. “Shameless!” cried her uncle. “Such women should be whipped at the cart’s tail. You shamed your affianced husband with your laughable ambition!”

“That’s not why he was laughing,” Noelle muttered.

“I believe you’re right,” Dorothea said seriously. “I attended several lectures with Lord Boltwood in London. He is knowledgeable about social concerns. It would be uncharacteristic of him to laugh at his fiancée’s wish to succor the less fortunate of her gender.”

At the other end of the table, Lady Boltwood nodded and smiled. Since Uncle Matthew dared not disagree with her, he said nothing. That gave Lady Darsington the opportunity to take over. She embarked on a lecture about the thoughtlessness and folly of the younger generation.

“My mother will never run out of words,” Dorothea whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Noelle whispered back. “My accursed tongue. And I’m sorry I was rude about the poetry. My comment was directed at Richard, never at you.”

“Dorothea, it is impolite to whisper,” Lady Darsington said, “but that is the least of your faults.”

Since there was nothing to do but try to shut out the long, tedious scold, Noelle made a stab at eating. At the other end of the table, Lady Boltwood placidly sipped her tea. As Richard’s mother, she must be accustomed to plain speaking, not to mention downright rudeness.

Lady Darsington paused for breath, and Sir Matthew took up the harangue. “You shame your aunt, and you shame me!” At this, Lucretia ducked her head as if she expected to be slapped. Noelle caught Dorothea’s sympathetic eye.

“He’ll blame her for it,” Noelle whispered. “She’s so perfect and so kind, but he faults her for everything I do.”

“It’s a good thing you’re to be married,” Dorothea whispered back. “He won’t be able to blame her as easily if you aren’t being scandalous right under his pompous old nose.” She paused. “You’re so courageous! I can’t help but admire you.”

“And I you, Miss Darsington,” Noelle said, meaning it. “Thank you for supporting me.”