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Chapter Thirteen
Nausea flooded Connie’s entire being and she had to swallow hard not to allow the bile that threatened to make itself shown. Every other ounce of her effort went toward keeping a serene smile upon her face. Henry Wagner was probably involved in this smuggling that everyone was so up in arms about. That would explain why he was there. She hadn’t yet been able to get a straight answer out of him as to how he had finagled an invitation, nor had she found the courage to ask Lady Adelaide.
But now she didn’t have to. She instinctively knew it was the case. There was nothing she could do about it though, aside from make even more certain she didn’t somehow find herself forced into marrying him. That would just put the final nail in the coffin of this dreadful day.
The look on Florent Alcott’s face as their gazes had collided would forever be etched into her memory. He had come to the exact same conclusion as she had about Mr. Wagner. The only problem was, as the disdain in his face had indicated, he thought she was somehow involved.
Connie stifled a sigh. Apparently being a spinster also meant she was guilty of every other vile thing people could imagine.
It wasn’t fair. But then, life rarely was. Just the fact of her circumstances told her that. Why had she received the inheritance from her grandmother while her distant cousin Peggy was left to fend for herself?
Well, perhaps Peggy wasn’t to be left to fend for herself for much longer if the attention Lord Merton kept paying her was any indication.
Clearly Constance Moreland was a more romantic soul than she ever would have imagined if even in the face of her current tragedy she could be seeing roses and bluebells in such an arrangement. Connie was happy for her companion. She truly was, she insisted within the confines of her own mind. It would be perfectly wonderful for Peggy, and it might even be more interesting for Connie to have a new companion. Peggy had been becoming increasingly despondent in their travels. A new companion couldn’t be worse than that.
But, despite herself, Connie would miss Peggy. And she was just the tiniest bit envious despite how happy she was for her friend. The vision of Lord Merton bending his head to hear something Peggy was saying was also etched in her memory for all time. It had been lovely and meaningful even if Peggy was merely remarking upon the weather or the drapes or whatever she had said. Just knowing the tall, handsome nobleman had exerted himself to pay attention to Peggy was lovely to behold.
Everyone should have someone willing to bend for them, Connie thought rather poetically even as she fought a sense of devastation. Obviously Florent Alcott was not the bending sort. Or at least he had no intention of bending for her – a woman he thought capable of being in league with smugglers.
Not that there was yet any evidence to support the supposition that Wagner might be involved. But if Florent didn’t tell the authorities about the possibility, Constance would have to do so. It was only right. She was likely the cause of his having been invited, even though she couldn’t fathom how he had gotten himself tied up with a smuggling gang. But Connie wouldn’t put it past him. She had never had reason to suspect him of actual criminal behaviour before, but it had always been clear to Connie the man was not to be trusted.
Of course, no woman would trust a man trying to ruin her into marriage.
That in itself should be considered criminal. Sadly, in their Society it was not. It was just an alternative way of accomplishing your goals. But Connie would never allow herself to be put in that position. And now she was in a different awkward position. Thankfully, she doubted Florent would actually give voice to his suppositions about her. He was one of those gentlemen who would consider it dishonorable to besmirch a woman’s good name.
Florent Alcott was a rarity.
But that didn’t stop him from having his own suspicions about her. It was silly that it hurt her feelings. There was no reason for it to do so. They had made no promises to one another. Not even the promise of friendship. But she had thought they were friends, and now her feelings were devastated.
She was being a fool. And Constance Moreland never acted like a fool.
Connie lifted her chin and kept her expression serene. No one would know from looking at her that the bottom had dropped out of her life.
“Are you well?”
Connie nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t noticed Peggy’s approach.
“Of course, I’m well, why do you ask?” Connie would rather jump off the battlements in that moment than admit how she was feeling.
But Peggy wasn’t fooled. She stared at Connie with an elevated eyebrow. When Connie only returned her stare, Peggy’s questioning expression dissolved into one of concern.
“Allow me to rephrase, then. I know something is wrong. Tell me how I can help. Is it Wagner?”
Connie’s heart swelled at the fierce expression on her friend’s face. Despite the fact that she was certain the young woman would be leaving her employ in the not-too-distant future, Connie knew Peggy cared about her and would stand by her side as long as needed.
“All is well, but I would appreciate your company, thank you.”
“Can you believe the various developments of the afternoon? A betrothal and soon to be a wedding? How deliciously romantic. What a thrill to be here to witness it unfold.”
Connie managed not to roll her eyes. “There’s also the small matter of smugglers infesting the neighbourhood.”
Peggy frowned. “But that shan’t affect us, surely.”
“Not even with the government agents right under our noses and underfoot as well, no doubt.”
Peggy’s frown intensified. “Why does this bother you? I would have thought you’d find it even more fascinating than I do.”
Constance shook her head. “Forgive me, my dear. I am out of sorts is all.”
