The Secret Mistress

would realize she could not live without him, and their great love for each other would be clear to everyone else at Hallings, including his family, and because they loved him and would come to love her, they would give their blessing to the match and the two of them would be betrothed before the end of the house party and married in St. George’s, Hanover Square, as soon as the banns had been called, and they would live happily ever after.

And Angeline would have been the mastermind behind it all. She would have done a noble thing. True love would have triumphed over adversity.

Angeline’s parasol was twirling again and setting the flowers on her bonnet fluttering in the sudden wind.

Lord Heyward drew his attention away from the boat and turned to look directly into her eyes. Neither of them spoke for endless moments.

“I beg your pardon,” he said abruptly at last. “Your safety is not my concern. I must appear like an interfering busybody.”

“But perhaps Miss Goddard’s safety is your concern,” she said. “You are fond of her.”

“Yes,” he agreed, looking suddenly bleak.

Oh, it would work. Of course it would work.

But why did her heart feel broken in two and her spirit as though it were crawling along the bottom of the river on its belly?

“You will wish to wait here for the boat,” she said, “so that you may rescue Miss Goddard from the evil clutches of a rake. I see Maria Smith-Benn strolling up there with Mr. Stebbins and Sir Anthony Folke. Maria is my particular friend, you know. I shall go and join them.”

And she smiled brightly and waved an arm in their direction. They stopped to wait for her, all of them smiling a welcome. Sir Anthony, despite the fair curls that spilled all over his hat brim no matter how often he pressed them ruthlessly beneath it, was really rather good-looking in a boyish sort of way. And Mr. Stebbins had had his eye on Maria for the past week or two—to Maria’s delight.

Within moments Angeline was laughing and happy again.

And she could not wait to talk with Rosalie, to suggest one more guest for Hallings. Her idea was quite, quite brilliant and could surely not fail.

Chapter 15

HALLINGS WAS A solidly built, no-nonsense gray stone square of a mansion set at the end of a long, winding driveway that meandered through a spacious, well-landscaped park. The house was fronted by rather old-fashioned formal gardens consisting mainly of box hedges and gravel walks and some statuary. It looked a pleasant enough place in which to spend a few days if the weather held. It would at least provide a welcome break from all the busy hurry of London. At least, that was the consensus of opinion among the occupants of the carriage in which Edward traveled—his grandfather’s rather than the old one from Wimsbury, which everyone but his mother thought a monstrosity of discomfort.

Edward wished he was anyplace else on earth.

It was bad enough that he was going to be spending a few days in close proximity with Tresham and his sister. Worse was the fact that the family committee had ruled just yesterday that the search for a bride was not going well enough, despite the fact that Edward had been halfheartedly courting no fewer than six young ladies during the past month and that all six were offering well-bred encouragement. And the committee had come up with the thoroughly alarming conclusion that he should return his attentions to Lady Angeline Dudley.

It had been pointless to remind them that he had already courted her once, proposed marriage to her, and been rejected. That meant nothing, according to his grandmother and her dismissively waving lorgnette. No girl worth her salt was going to accept a man’s first proposal.

“Especially when he cannot assure her that he loves her,” Juliana had added pointedly.

“And you will be spending five days in company with her,” Alma had said. “You will have the ideal opportunity, Edward, to try again and to get it right this time.”

“I like her very well indeed,” Lorraine had said. “She has spirit.”

“I even like her hats,” his grandmother had said, “and wish I dared wear ones like them myself. At least then people would look at them instead of at my wrinkles.”

“And she has not looked happy since she refused you,” his mother had said.

What? What?

Was she talking about the same Lady Angeline Dudley as the one he knew? Had she seen her lately, as he had—or, rather, as he had tried not to do? She flirted with simply everything that happened to be male, and everything that was male flirted right back. A new regiment could be made up out of her admirers to swell the ranks of the British army. And she was always simply spilling over with exuberance. Every host could save a fortune in candles if he so wished when she was at a ball—her smile could light up even the largest ballroom.

She had not been happy?

“You have not looked happy in the last few weeks either,” his mother had added.

He frowned. Not happy? Had she not seen him constantly dancing attendance upon some lady or other—and sometimes even literally dancing? Did she not know that he had attended dinners and theater parties and garden parties and who knew what else every single day?

He was shown to his room soon after his arrival, as were all the other guests, but he could not skulk there forever, even if he would dearly like to do just that for the next five days. Having changed and shaved afresh, he dismissed his valet and went down to the drawing room for tea.

Fortunately there were a few more guests than just family. Lady Eagan was here, though she was family, of course. She was Fenner’s cousin. There were also a few strangers. There was a tall, cadaverous man with a kindly face, bushy gray eyebrows, and sparse gray hair that looked untamable by comb, brush, or water. Lady Palmer introduced him as the Reverend Joseph Martin, the newly retired vicar, who had always been a particular friend of Lord Palmer’s. She also introduced Mr. Briden, a neighbor who had come to stay for the duration of the house party, and his two young daughters, Miss Briden and Miss Marianne Briden. Fenner’s close friend Sir Webster Jordan was also present.

And there were two other guests, who took Edward totally by surprise. Eunice was here. He could think of no reason why she would have been invited apart from the strange friendship that seemed to have developed between her and Lady Angeline Dudley. He was, nonetheless, delighted to see her. He had not spoken with her since the day of that garden party, when she had looked actually annoyed to see him waiting for her on the bank of the river. Though she had taken his arm after Windrow had strolled away, and they had spent a pleasant half hour together.

He was even more surprised—and far less pleased—to discover that Windrow himself was also among the guests. But, as Lady Palmer explained, he was a neighbor, his country seat being a mere ten miles away.

And so the house party began with tea and conversation and laughter. It continued later with dinner and cards in the drawing room afterward and some music. The Misses Briden both entertained the company on the pianoforte. Then Lady Eagan accompanied Lord Ferdinand Dudley as he sang a series of folk songs in a surprisingly pleasant tenor voice.

Edward was relieved to discover that Lady Palmer was more tactful than his female relatives—or perhaps she had no wish to encourage a resumption of his attentions to her charge. She seated him at some distance from Lady Angeline Dudley at the dinner table and placed him at a different card table