Page 63 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

‘The Dowager Countess of Blackdown,’ the butler announced.

Cole put down the gown, rose to her feet and curtseyed as the older lady entered.

Today, Lady Blackdown looked elegant in a burgundy walking gown with black trim and a smart little hat of pale straw trimmed with flowers. ‘Bring tea, please,’ she said to Powell on her way past him. She frowned at the pile in the middle of the floor. ‘Is that everything?’

‘I believe so,’ Florence said. ‘I thought we had ordered far too much—’ she laughed a little ‘—but now I am wondering if it was enough.’

‘Shall I have the boxes taken upstairs, my lady?’ Cole asked.

‘Yes, do,’ Lady Blackdown said, before Florence could answer. ‘I cannot stand the clutter. And besides, there is something I need to discuss with your mistress.’

Once Cole had organised a footman to help her carry out the boxes and Powell had delivered the tea, Lady Blacktown’s face took on a serious cast.

Florence handed her a cup of tea prepared exactly as she had learned her mother-in-law liked it: no milk and a little sugar. She preferred hers with milk and no sugar. ‘You had something to discuss?’

‘What did my son tell you about Lady Standish?’

Stomach dipping, she stared at her mother-in-law. ‘Tell me? Why, that they came out in the same year. That they are old friends.’

Lady Blackdown pressed her lips together, the lines around her mouth becoming very pronounced. ‘If I had not seen them waltzing the other night, I might not have said anything, but seeing them together again…’ She shook her head. ‘The gossip has started.’

‘Gossip?’ A sense of dread swirled in her stomach.

‘They were engaged to be married. Before he left for Canada.’

Florence blinked. She had guessed there was something between them, something more than friendship, but had not expected this. And yet that was before. Why would it matter now?

Lady Blackdown put up a hand. ‘Not officially, but between them. He told me he was madly in love with her and she had accepted his offer. He was to visit her father. I was so pleased for him. Her family is one of the highest in the land and she was the most beautiful girl the ton had seen in its ranks for years to boot. Everyone knew her parents were prepared to make a handsome settlement.’

‘Madly in love…’ The words were like shards of ice piercing her chest. Not because he had been in love; that would be hypocritical. But because Graydon had lied to her about them being only friends. People did not lie unless they had something to hide.

And after she had been honest with him. She felt ill, as if a vice had closed around her heart and was squeezing tightly.

Lady Standish was nearly as beautiful as Primrose. Was that why he hadn’t wanted to marry her sister—because Lady Standish might think he had fallen in love with someone else? Certainly no one would see Florence as any sort of competition for Lady Standish. She suddenly felt horribly small and stupid.

‘I see.’ She put down her cup and saucer; she wasn’t sure she could manage to hold it, with her hand shaking so much. ‘And why are you telling me this?’

She was grateful that her voice was steady and hoped her face was equally calm.

‘Because you will need to be careful not to add fuel the fire. I understand you are going to Lady Swann’s at-home. Is Graydon going with you?’

Florence took a deep breath. ‘He is.’

‘Let me tell you this, there is nothing more titivating to the ton than a pair of star-crossed lovers and how they and their partners behave afterwards.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘The irony is that now, when she is about to become a widow, Graydon has acquired a bride.’

‘Irony?’ Florence only managed to speak in little more than a whisper. Talking seemed to hurt as much as breathing. Madly in love…and apparently she was in the way of his happiness?

‘Well, you must see that if he had waited…her family’s standing in Society… Well, that is water under the bridge. I simply wanted to warn you that the ton will be watching, that is all.’

Lady Blackdown was making it sound as if this was her fault. As if she had somehow ruined things for Graydon. The pain around Florence’s heart was almost more than she could bear.

Why? Why did she care so much? It wasn’t as if he’d professed love or anything. Theirs was a marriage of convenience. He did not need to live in her pocket. They had said that right from the beginning. And what did it matter if somewhere during these past few months, she had grown fond of him? More than fond, if she was honest.

Surely she had not been hoping for a real marriage? Not flowers and protestations of love, perhaps, but something more than a business arrangement? The way he had been so passionate after he’d come to her that night, she had let herself think it might be possible.

And now to learn he loved someone else. And, of all people, a recognised beauty. No wonder he had gazed at Lady Standish when he’d thought Florence wasn’t looking. Clearly the woman just had to crook her finger and he would go running. And soon the lady would be a widow.

Everyone must think Florence a fool. They must be laughing at her behind her back, watching Graydon and Lady Standish, and comparing the beauty to his plain country bumpkin of a wife.