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26
Romy’s mother pointedly looked across the table at her, putting aside the letter she had been reading.
Romy drizzled a bit more honey on her toast and smiled back at her mother who was much improved of late. Since she and Theo had returned from the house party at The Barrow, Romy had spent a great deal of time reliving bits and pieces of her relationship with Granby. The more she examined their final discussion, the more Romy was sure she’d done the right thing in deciding not to see or speak to him again.
The first few nights, in her own bed, staring at the canopy above, she’d wept. He’d broken her heart. But Romy had been raised to be a woman who didnotsob over a gentleman’s disregard, though she was certain when her mother had conveyed such sage advice, she had likely been under the assumption the man in question had merely stolen a kiss.
Romy waited for regret over their night together, but it never came. She loved Granby and probably always would, but she hoped it would fade in time, allowing her to find happiness with someone else. She planned to confess everything except Granby’s name to her adoring future husband. Any man she married would love her for who she was. Flaws and all.
“Is something wrong?” Olivia said quietly, her eyes on the letter Mama held.
Poor Olivia had been anxious of late, owing to the fact her maternal grandfather, Lord Daring, had suddenly taken an interest in her after ignoring her existence for most of her life.
“Don’t worry, dear; the letter is not from Lord Daring.” Her mother’s eyes fixed on Romy. “He is not the source of my concern. Nor should he be yours.”
Olivia took a deep sigh of relief.
“Is it from Leo?” Romy asked. “Does he say when he’ll return home?”
“No. He is still wandering about New York. The letter is from Cousin Winnie. She and Rosalind have both caught a cold, which is why she has written.”
“What a shame,” Theo said. “Rosalind has a weak constitution. Has Torrington called on her?” Theo asked, mentioning the earl who Cousin Winnie hoped would marry Rosalind.
“She doesn’t say. She had more important matters to relate.” Her mother was still staring at Romy. “Is there something you wish to confess to me, Andromeda?”
Romy put down her toast, the honey sticking in her throat. “I can’t imagine what you mean, Mama.” There were several things she needed to speak to her mother about, Madame Dupree being foremost. Unless it had something to do with Granby and that bloody house party.
Her heart started to thump loudly in her ears.
“Apparently, the Duke of Granby did not offer for Lady Beatrice Howard as was expected at the house party you attended. Winnie was terribly surprised. As was everyone else. Including Lady Beatrice herself.”
It wasn’t a shock Cousin Winnie would write and tell her mother such a thing, especially if she couldn’t visit in person. “I’m sure Theo and I mentioned that to you when we returned, Mama.”
“Don’t bring me into this,” Theo whispered as she bent to pick up her napkin.
“Oh, you did mention it.” Her mother pushed the paper she’d been reading earlier across the table toward Romy. “I just find it appalling you didn’t tell me everything. Cousin Winnie’s letter now makes everything abundantly clear. I went to her, you see, after overhearing a comment at the small soiree I attended given by Lady Cambourne.”
Romy’s fingers reached for the paper and just as quickly retreated.
“Very well. I shall read it to you,” her mother intoned.
“Poor Lady B. Mistakenly assuming she’d be made a duchess. Note to all those impeccably bred young ladies of London. Be careful who arrives uninvited to a house party.”
Olivia looked out the window, Theo down at her plate.
“I’m not sure, Mama, what this has to do with me,” Romy said stubbornly.
“I’m not finished, Andromeda.” Her mother picked up another paper to her right. “This item is quite well written.”
“A certain young lady is following in the footsteps of her brother and engaging in trade,”her mother recited.“Her education must have been very fine indeed to have included dressmaking along with dancing and French.”
This was very bad.
“How curious.” Romy pretended disinterest and drizzled more honey on her toast, uncaring when it began to pool on the plate.
“And finally, my favorite.”
“Lady A. possesses talents unheard of for a young lady of her station. Dressmaking and ensnaring the affections of a duke are top among them.”
