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“You will never believe what Edgar told me,” she said brightly as he worked his way down the back of her bodice. “It turns out you were entirely right in your suppositions about him and his landlady’s daughter.”
“His landlady’s daughter?” Gervaise repeated blankly.
“It turns out he has been married to Diana Hipworth for eighteen months now! Clandestinely. Can you believe it? My sainted brother!”
“Diana Hipworth your old friend from school?” Gervaise said slowly, a frown in his voice.
“Yes. She turned up at Benham Hall sick of all the secrecy and demanding she take up the reins as mistress of the house. I can only imagine how Mother would have taken that,” she added dryly. “Well actually, I don’t have to, for Edgar told me. Relations have been extremely hostile. He is at his wit’s end with it all.”
“Arms up.” Gervaise eased her out of the bodice and started on her waistband.
“Mama has been accusing Diana of all manner of wickedness,” she rattled on. “Of trying to push her down stairs, poisoning her only son against her, and trying to hasten her untimely end. It all sounds most melodramatic.” When he did not reply, she cast a quick look at him over her shoulder. “Was Lord Faris…?”
“Was he what?” he asked when she did not finish her sentence.
“Was he much shocked and disappointed?” she asked, swallowing painfully.
Gervaise gave a short, hard laugh. “He was extremely disapproving. A role he clearly felt ill equipped to embody, though he gave it his best shot.”
Caroline’s heart sank. “I’m sorry to have been the cause of any strain in your relationship, Gervaise,” she said in a small voice.
“Jeremy is my oldest friend and knows me well,” he said briskly. “Never fear, he knows at whose door to lay the blame.”
“You mean mine?” she replied with relief. “Good.”
His hands landed on her upper arms, and he spun her around briskly. “What the devil do you mean by that? Of course he does not blame you. The fault is mine and mine alone.” Caroline gaped at him. “I was the one who first proposed the ridiculous notion of your becoming my mistress, was I not?”
“Yes, but—”
“Such a thing would never have occurred to you if I had not first planted the seed.”
“Well, but since then—”
“Come on. Step out,” he said brusquely, pushing down the structure of her full skirts.
“Gervaise—” she started again but he simply seized her waist to steady her as she freed herself from her cumbersome petticoats. “Will you please—?”
“This is going to be my last night here, Caroline,” he interrupted her, keeping a firm hold of her.
She clutched at him in alarm. “What? Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean to remove myself to Melbury Square first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Melbury Square?” she repeated numbly. “You mean…your uncle’s house?”
“Yes, come and sit down. I’ll get rid of this and fetch your dressing robe for you,” he said, bundling up her gown and disappearing into their dressing room.
Caroline lowered herself onto the sofa on legs that trembled. She didn’t want him to go! Why was he leaving her? Everything was crashing down around her ears. A pox on Edgar! Why did he have to turn up and ruin everything?
Gervaise reappeared with her ruby velvet dressing robe. For a moment she had been scared it would be the brown one of boiled wool. She stood up and he helped her into it before sitting down opposite her.
Caroline leaned back, feigning a calmness she did not feel, her eyes on the cats lying in front of the fire, blissfully unaware of the breakup of their happy home. “You’re going to leave me here? Alone?” she prompted when he did not speak at once.
He was quiet for a heartbeat, then schooled his expression so it was carefully blank. “Lord and Lady Faris have extended an invitation for you to join them at their townhouse in Belgravia as their houseguest. Emmeline came up to London with Jeremy and is having a room made ready for you.”
Caroline stared at him. “I could not possibly—”
“Yes, you could, Caroline,” he insisted. “You could and you will.”