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Amelia Livingstone wasat home to receive my personally delivered invitation to afternoon tea. I wasn’t entirely sure she’d receive me at first. The butler looked surprised when I asked for her. He disappeared for a few moments then returned and led me through to the drawing room where Miss Livingstone sat like a serene statue on the sofa. She looked as she had on the night of the ball, as if she were a queen surveying everything around her. It was as if nothing were amiss. It wasn’t obvious from looking at this beautiful, elegant yet cool young woman that half of society was whispering about her liaison with Mr. McDonald and the other half was listening.
I admired her courage. I’d be cool with a newcomer under such circumstances too.
“I’m sorry we didn’t have an opportunity to meet on the night of the Bunburys’ ball,” I began. “My cousin, Florence, told me all about you.”
“That’s sweet of her, but I’m afraid I don’t know your cousin. Is she a Miss Fox, too?”
“No. She’s a Bainbridge.” At her blank look, I added, “The daughter of Sir Ronald Bainbridge, owner of the Mayfair Hotel.”
“I’ve heard of the hotel.” Her disinterest would have dented Flossy’s pride. It was fortunate she didn’t come with me. “Where do you fit into the family?”
“My mother and Lady Bainbridge were sisters.”
“And your father?”
“A scholar at Cambridge University.”
The pleasant smile tightened.
Well. I might as well get to the point. She hadn’t offered me tea and didn’t look as though she was about to. “My cousin and I would like to invite you to afternoon tea at the hotel.”
“I’m afraid I can’t today.”
“Tomorrow, then. Or the next day.”
“I’m very busy. That’s the problem with being crowned debutante of the year by Lady Bunbury. All the invitations roll in and I simply can’t refuse. I’ve been invited to so many things. It’s very tiring.” Her benign smile never wavered.
There was serenity and composure, and then there was rudeness. Flossy was right. Miss Livingstone was a dreadful snob, even now when her world was crumbling and she could do with a friend.
My sympathy for her was disappearing along with my window of opportunity.
“Thank you for your understanding, Miss Fox. The butler will see you out.” She reached for the bell pull beside the sofa.
I had to act quickly, so I blurted out the first thing that came into my head. “You haven’t been invited anywhere else, have you?”
Her fingers curled into a fist before touching the velvet cord. “I beg your pardon?”
Her butler had given me the clue when he’d reacted with shock to my presence. She’d received no callers since the Bunburys’ ball. I was her first. “You’re hiding away in here after the rumor about your liaison with Ambrose McDonald got out.”
Her lips pursed until they turned white. It was the first crack in her composure. “You should leave.”
“I don’t care what you did with him. That’s no one’s business but your own. But Mr. McDonald has been murdered, and you must admit it looks bad for you considering the rumors, and the fact he had other lovers.”
I watched her carefully for a reaction, but there was none. She must have known about the others. But had she learned about them on the night of the ball, or more recently? “A man has been arrested. It was nothing to do with me.”
“McDonald used you,” I pressed. “He enticed you to his flat in order to blackmail your father. Your father refused to pay, so McDonald spread the rumor. You must see how it looks, Miss Livingstone.”
“How itlooks?” she bit off, her voice a harsh rasp. “Miss Fox, when it comes to how things look, I am somewhat of an expert. Now hear this. No one hasusedme. No one would dare. I have many friends—importantfriends—and I will be in their favor again soon. It is simply a matter of waiting for them to realize their parties are dull without the most beautiful, most accomplished, and most graceful debutante present.Iam what attracts the gentlemen, and without gentlemen, no lady of quality will bother to attend.”
Her arrogance left me quite speechless. There was no sign of her serenity anymore. It had completely disappeared, overwhelmed by her true nature. For a young lady of her stature to express such superciliousness was rare. They were taught from an early age to be demure and deferential. She must be under a great deal of pressure indeed for that façade to shatter.
Or she thought so little of me that she didn’t care about my opinion.
I rose. “Thank you for enlightening me.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” I headed for the door, not waiting for the butler to collect me.
