‘You are both very good, but I fear it may be too late for that.’
‘Well, there is no need to involve yourself further,’ said Tony with finality. ‘You know as well as I that once gossip starts it must run its course, and if Hambridge is wise he will remove his sister from town until this has all died down.’ He rose. ‘Now, I had best be getting on to Prior’s Holt or they will not have time to find me a decent dinner.’
‘If that is the case then you can come back here and take pot luck with me,’ said Quinn, accompanying him out of the house.
Once his friend had driven away Quinn returned to his study, but the letters he had planned to deal with that morning remained unopened. Instead he sat in his chair for a full half-hour, staring into space and thinking over all Tony had told him.
* * *
‘Smile, Serena. And sit up straight. Remember this is for your benefit.’
Dorothea’s hissed whisper was cut short as she turned to greet Lady Drycroft, whose carriage had drawn up alongside their own. It was the third day running that Dorothea had taken Serena out at the fashionable hour and the May sunshine had encouraged even greater crowds than usual to throng Hyde Park. Progress around the gravelled drives was little faster than a walk.
It was a nightmare, thought Serena. To be smiling, calmly exchanging greetings, when all she wanted was to hide from the world. It was her own fault, she had compromised herself by running off with a man and Dorothea and Henry were doing their best to mend matters. All that was expected of Serena was that she appear in public and act as if nothing had happened.
Two weeks ago, she would not have doubted her ability to ride the storm. But she was not the same confident lady who had set out to meet Sir Timothy Forsbrook. She had lost her self-assurance and no longer felt any interest in what was happening to her. However, it was easier to try to please Dorothea than oppose her, so she smiled and replied politely to the barbed comments of the spiteful. At the same time she discounted her friends’ kind words, knowing she had brought this fate upon herself. Her face ached with smiling. All she really wanted to do was to take to her bed. To go to sleep and never wake up.
* * *
They returned to Bruton Street an hour later and entered the house just as Henry was crossing the hall. He waited while they discarded their bonnets and spencers, then ushered them into the drawing room.
‘How was your drive around the Ring today?’
‘Humiliating,’ replied Dorothea. ‘We received only the coolest of nods from several matrons, including Lady Mattishall. The Duchess of Bonsall cut us altogether! No one believes Serena has been ill. I have had to suffer innumerable sly remarks.’
‘They will come to believe it, if you persevere. They have to believe it,’ Henry added, his teeth clenched. He shrugged off his anxiety and said more cheerfully, ‘Now that Serena is out and about again this little setback will soon be forgotten.’
‘Little setback?’ Dorothea retorted. ‘Have you not noticed how few invitations we have received recently?’ She waved towards the mantelpiece, which was usually crowded with cards. ‘And even when I do go out, I am teased about it constantly.’
Serena thought that if Dorothea had not been so cool to those she considered inferior, then society might have been a little more sympathetic, but she said nothing. It did not seem worth the effort.
‘Well, we must bear it for a few more weeks,’ Henry replied. ‘Then you can leave town for the summer. What say you to hiring a house at Worthing? You and Serena can travel ahead and I will join you as soon as Parliament rises.’
‘Worthing! What is the good of that, when everyone of note will be in Brighton?’
‘That is just the point, Dorothea,’ Henry explained patiently. ‘By the time you meet your acquaintances again, other scandals will have arisen to eclipse Serena’s disgrace. Poor Brummell, for one, the wolves are already circling his door. And who knows,’ he added hopefully, ‘you might by then have found a husband for her.’
‘You forget, Henry, I do not want a husband.’
Serena’s quiet words brought a cry of exasperation from Dorothea.
‘You see,’ she cried, turning to her husband. ‘You see what I have to put up with? If ever there was such an ungrateful wretch. Oh, go up to your room, girl, and change for dinner. Henry, where are you going?’
‘I am also going up to change, my dear,’ said her long-suffering husband. ‘I am engaged to dine at White’s tonight, so you and Serena must excuse me.’
Serena quietly followed Henry out of the room, wishing that she, too, could escape what promised to be a depressing meal in the company of her sister-in-law.
* * *
‘Well, now, Miss Serena, ’tis a beautiful morning.’
Serena winced at Polly’s cheerful greeting. She heard the rattle of crockery and dragged herself up in bed so that her maid could place the tray across her lap.
‘Will you be joining my lady for breakfast today, ma’am?’
Polly had asked the same question every morning since Serena had returned from Melham Court and Serena’s reply never varied.
‘Not today, Polly. A cup of tea will suffice.’
The maid’s eyes moved to the plate of bread and butter lying on the tray, but she had given up trying to persuade her mistress to eat anything in the mornings. She left Serena to drink her tea while she bustled about the room, collecting together the clean chemise, stockings and gown that her mistress would wear that day.
‘Lady Hambridge is expecting visitors this morning, Miss Serena, and she has asked that you wear the powder-blue muslin.’
‘Visitors?’
‘Miss Althea—Lady Newbold, I should say, miss. She is bringing Master Arthur to visit his grandmama.’
‘Oh, Lord.’
Serena closed her eyes. Althea was Henry and Dorothea’s only child. She was the same age as Serena but had already been married for two years and provided her husband with a lusty heir. Dorothea was understandably proud of her daughter’s achievements, as she constantly reminded Serena. There was no doubt that Althea would want to hear every horrid detail of this latest scrape, while Serena would be expected to play the doting aunt to little Arthur who, in her opinion, was developing into a bad-tempered child.
She gave a little sigh. ‘Pray give my apologies and say I have the headache.’
‘I will, miss,’ said Polly, shaking out the blue muslin. ‘But not if you are going to mope around in your room all day. We’ll get you dressed and you can stroll in the gardens.’ The maid met Serena’s questioning eyes with a determined look in her own. ‘Are we agreed, miss?’
* * *
The sun shone down on Serena’s bare head and the bright day lifted her spirits sufficiently for her to think Polly had been right to press her into going out of doors. She allowed her shawl to slip off her shoulders so she could feel the sun’s comforting warmth on her skin. The black cloud that enveloped her spirits was still there, but it had thinned a little.
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