Page 55 of Only Pleasure Will Do

“An excellent idea, Dalbury.” Mr. Morley grinned and tossed back the contents of his wine glass. “We’ve had too much quiet by far for the past few days. That kind of call may indeed be both profitable and amusing.”

“What are you up to, Dalbury?” Reginald had edged forward on his seat, his full attention now on his host. “If this has to do with M…Madam Vestry, I think I should be there as well.”

“And why is that, Matthews?” Dalbury’s tone had gone sharp. “I do not think we need to impose the weight of the office of a Bow Street Magistrate on the unfortunate widow. Besides,” the marquess sat back in his chair, looking very self-satisfied, “I hardly think it polite for you to call upon the widow. You were, after all, Manning’s second when he killed her husband.”

Reginald opened his mouth then abruptly shut it. He seized his wine glass and downed the contents. “Very well.” His gaze lingered on Amorina and softened before turning to glower at Dalbury. “But I will want to know the outcome of this meeting.”

“Is that so?” Dalbury shot a look at Lady Dalbury.

“Ladies.” Lady Dalbury rose, bringing Amorina and Lady Juliet to their feet as well. “I think we should retire and leave the gentlemen to what I suspect may be an animated discussion.” She smiled warmly at her husband. “Do not let things get too out of hand, Duncan. I wish my cousin to be left in one big piece at least.”

“I will try, my dear, although I make no promises.”

The lady rapped him smartly on the shoulder and led the others out of the room.

Amorina was loath to go. That Reginald seemed to be taking more than a little interest in her affairs had not been lost on her. Might there still be some spark of feeling for her in the man? A flicker of hope rose inside her. If he still cared for her, might not there be some way they could be together? If only she could stay and listen to the gentlemen’s talk, she might find out the extent of Reginald’s interest. But society dictated she follow her hostess.

They made their way down the corridor to Lady Dalbury’s favorite retiring room on the first floor. Decorated in delicate peach and cream, with polished Queen Anne style furniture, the chamber was both feminine and inviting. Amorina settled herself in a wide, comfortable chair covered in a rose motif tapestry that had become her usual seat. Lady Juliet sat on a cream jacquard sofa and her hostess rang for tea before joining her there.

Lady Juliet immediately turned toward Amorina. “Is your throat better this evening, Madam Vestry? I noticed you seemed to be particularly enjoying the cheese soup and the jellied eels, which I thought was in a clever presentation, molding the jelly to look like an eel.”

Smiling at the lady’s always enthusiastic manner, Amorina nodded, careful not to do so too quickly. “All of Mrs. Dowland’s dishes have been delicious and very kind to my throat.” The swelling had gone down remarkably so she hoped to avail herself of more normal fare shortly. “I did relish the eels this evening.”

“I will be certain to pass your compliments on to Mrs. Dowland, Miss Forrester.” Lady Dalbury smiled pleasantly, her watchful gaze focused on Amorina’s face.

Every muscle in her body froze as Amorina gripped the smooth arms of the chair. No one had used that name in years. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but you should not call me that. That person is dead and buried to the world.”

“Then I believe a resurrection is in order. Thank you, Grayson.”

The staid butler had entered unnoticed and set the tea things on a small table at Lady Dalbury’s side. “My lady.” He bowed and exited just as quietly.

There was something to be said for noisy servants: one always knew where they were so one could guard their words. Both Lord and Lady Dalbury trusted their butler with their lives, but one never knew what the others might hear. Her secret must remain a secret if Pearl was to have any kind of a reputable life.

As soon as the door closed behind Grayson, Amorina turned back to Lady Dalbury, her words of a moment ago now registering. “A resurrection? Of whom?”

“Of you.” The lady’s gaze rested lightly on Amorina’s face, her mouth set in a determined line. “At the age of three and twenty, I think it is time for you to take your rightful place in Society.” The marchioness nodded her head toward Juliet. “Lady Juliet Morley, I present to you Miss Aimée Madeline Forrester, daughter of the late Baron Forrester of Rayleigh.” Lady Dalbury’s smile grew larger. “Welcome to London, Maddy.”