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“That sounds lovely,” she said. “I would be delighted to join you.”
Rowena rejoiced. She nodded to Sally, who promptly excused herself to inform the cook of their picnic plans.
The viscount cleared his throat loudly, startling all three women. Rowena saw her mother winced, but she couldn’t fathom why. The room fell silent again, and the women looked at the viscount expectantly. He rose unsteadily to his feet, and something in his sheepish smile made Rowena’s earlier uneasiness return.
“My darling ladies,” he said, his voice somehow even sweeter than before, “I have an announcement I would like to make.”
Sybil and Rowena looked at their father expectantly, but Lady Worthingwood did not look up from her plate. No doubt, whatever his lordship was about to say had already been discussed with their mother.
“Of course, Father,” Rowena said, not sure if her father was waiting for his declaration to be acknowledged.
The viscount nodded.
“I have decided that you, my dear Rowena, will take part in the upcoming Season in London,” he said.
Rowena’s mouth fell open. She stared at her father as though he had grown horns on either side of his head. Surely, she had misheard him. At the age of twenty-two, she was a spinster. She had accepted that fate several years ago, and she had never expressed any interest in attending another Season. Spinsters had no place at debut balls and Season parties. Was she going mad? Or was her father?
“I beg your pardon, Father?” she managed to ask, looking to her mother for clarification, but the viscountess was looking at her plate. So, finding none, Rowena turned her dumbfounded gaze back to her father, who was smiling as though he had just announced they were going on a nice trip.
“Yes, dear,” he said, almost proudly, though Rowena could now see, in the bags under his eyes and the tic in his cheek, signs of tension and strain underlying his falsely cheerful demeanor. “We shall be leaving for London in the next two days. I am certainly looking forward to it, and I am sure the three of you must be, as well.”
With that, he sat back down, immediately returning to his food. Rowena, however, had lost all appetite. She glanced at her sister, who looked happy with the news. When she looked at her mother, however, she saw the viscountess’s lip trembling and she would not meet her daughter’s gaze.
“Oh, it will be wonderful,” Sybil said, cutting through the tension of which she seemed blissfully unaware. “I can hardly wait to attend my first Season! It’s so exciting, isn’t it, Rowena?”
Rowena instantly forced a smile and nodded, though she couldn’t quite manage to speak. Even if she could have, she didn’t dare say anything to take away from her younger sister’s happy mood. But in truth, she was horrified with the idea.
Fear flooded her, and her palms grew damp. What would the ton say when she—already considered a spinster, having failed to find a husband despite several previous Seasons, and with a scandalous past to boot—suddenly started attending social events again after all this time? She well knew the answer: They would say. “Rowena Whitworth is desperate to find a husband.” Oh, Lord, she thought, her heart sinking. I shall be the subject of gossip all over Town!
And that was not the worst of it. She knew there could be only one reason why Lady Worthingwood expected her eldest daughter to attend the upcoming Season. As the realization struck her, Rowena found herself struggling to swallow the bile that suddenly rose in her throat. Feeling almost faint, she pushed her plate aside. Clearly, the reason was that, as Sybil had not yet come out and, therefore, would not be on the marriage mart until the following year, it was she herself whom her father planned to marry off.
Fortunately, Sybil seemed not to notice her sister’s change in mood. She engaged in a bright conversation with their mother about going through her wardrobe and finding her best dresses to pack for London. Rowena kept her eyes fixed on her uneaten food, trying to understand what her father could be thinking. If he indeed wished for her to marry, then why now? And why so suddenly? And why had he delivered the news on such short notice?
Rowena was glad when she could finally excuse herself from breakfast. She was feeling the onset of a megrim, and she exited the room as quickly as she could without drawing attention. She knew her father had taken to drinking a great deal more, and much more often, of late. But had he completely forgotten about her own disastrous debut Season?
“Darling,” the viscountess called meekly just as Rowena reached the stairs. “Are you all right?”
Rowena whirled around, blinking back tears of anger and confusion as she looked at her mother.
“How can Father expect me to endure another Season after what Jason did to me?” she moaned. A wave of nausea hit her and her head started to pound at the thought of the Viscount Mulington, and she had to hold her breath to keep from being ill.
Her mother looked at her with sad, guilty eyes. She took her daughter’s arm and gently led her away from the stairs.
“Will you take a walk in the garden with me?” she asked softly.
Rowena started to protest. But the expression on her mother’s face told her that it was less a desire than a necessity. Reluctantly, Rowena nodded and followed her mother to the back door of their small country townhome.
The fresh air in the garden was marginally helpful in soothing Rowena’s megrim, but her heart was still pounding, and her mind still spinning. She walked arm in arm with her mother, rubbing her temple, only vaguely aware of the warm sunshine on her skin and the lovely bird song around them.
“I am sorry that your father’s announcement came as such a surprise,” the viscountess said. “I tried to convince him to allow me to mention it sooner, but he insisted it should be this way." She sounded as though she was trying to choose her words carefully. For some reason, that set Rowena on edge.
“Well, that it certainly was,” she said. “But I do not understand. Why has he decided on all this so suddenly? And what makes him think that I have any business attending a Season, after everything that happened with Jason?”
The viscountess glanced at her daughter, and Rowena saw she was furiously chewing her lip. Rowena held her breath, waiting for her mother to speak again.
“We are in terrible trouble, darling,” she said at last. She had never sounded more tired or resigned, and Rowena’s heart ached for her. “In fact, we are in dire straits.”
Rowena turned to face her mother, taking her gently by the shoulders to stop her in her tracks.
