“If what they say is true, then I don’t want her as a friend. Not any longer.”
Mrs Dymchurch was trying to argue her case and Adelia shook her head in despair. The woman ought to salvage her dignity and leave without any further comment. Instead, Mr Dymchurch was saying, “This is nothing more than slander and you all ought to know none of it is true.”
Lady Purfleet had been watching from a distance. Now she rose to her feet and approached the group. Everyone fell silent. Adelia breathed a sigh of relief. Surely Lady Purfleet, in her calm and haughty manner, would set everything straight at last. And where was Mrs Bolton, the hostess, to restore order?
Lady Purfleet came to a halt very close to Mrs Dymchurch. She was a tall lady and she looked down her nose at the other woman with her usual disdain. “Mrs Dymchurch, I believe your carriage has arrived.”
Mrs Dymchurch took a step back. “I beg your pardon?”
“I merely inform you in a polite way that your transport has arrived to convey you home and I wish you a pleasant journey and all the compliments of the season to you. Good evening.”
Everyone was staring intently at Octavia Dymchurch now.
Adelia was appalled. It was not Lady Purfleet’s place to act like this.
Tears shone in Mrs Dymchurch’s eyes. She looked at the floor then at the ceiling but did not make eye contact with anyone in the room. There was nothing for her to do; no comment she could make.
She fled.
The door slammed.
Adelia moved, thinking to go after her, but Charlotte’s hand was firm on her upper arm. “No, mama. If you won’t consider your reputation, think of mine and the associations you keep. Yes, she was a friend to me but now I must cut her off, don’t you see? I simply must, whether I want to or not, at least for a while. I might send her a note privately but I cannot be seen to associate publicly at this very moment. This is something you taught me yourself.”
It was true. Adelia faltered and felt winded, somehow. Conversation started up all around them, and the woman with the overdone hair and underdone dress began to laugh loudly. It grated through Adelia’s head.
Lady Purfleet approached. She was not smiling. She looked at them both with the same iciness that she bestowed on most people, and said, “I do hope this little unpleasantness has not tainted your impression of us as a group. Come and join the discussion about ballet. Mrs Bolton is there. I am sure you have opinions to share on the matter.”
“I confess my head is whirling and I might retire for the night,” said Adelia. “I will just go and speak to Mrs Bolton and give her my regards for a lovely evening.”
“You cannot leave,” said Lady Purfleet. Adelia was somewhat taken aback by the harshness of the comment. Lady Purfleet nearly managed a softening smile as she added, “None of us would wish to lose an esteemed guest such as yourself quite so soon, Lady Calaway.”
“I thank you for the compliment but ...”
“Ah, I see. You think we’ve treated that woman unfairly, don’t you? Let me reassure you on that matter. It is not rumour. It is not supposition. It is not idle gossip.”
“What is it, then?”
“You know that I do not spread rumours. The plain fact is that Octavia Dymchurch was having a long and clandestine affair with Digby Nettles, right under the nose of her own husband.”
“I understand that her husband was not as innocent as he ought to have been?”
“That is true. He had philandered his way around London from the day they were married.” Lady Purfleet shrugged as if such behaviour was of no real consequence. “But instead of concentrating on her household and family, she sunk to his depths. We all know that she ought to have presented a good example and worked hard to raise him up, not slide and match him in his depravity.”
If this were true, it would put Octavia Dymchurch as a potential suspect in the murder, just as they had idly speculated. Adelia said, “What real evidence supports all this?”
Lady Purfleet looked at her as if she’d asked for an itemised account of her personal wealth. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, as the temperature around them plummeted several degrees.
“What has happened for society to turn against Mrs Dymchurch so suddenly? Why have these facts emerged now?”
“Her lady’s maid left her service lately, in tears, declaring she could no longer work for such an immoral person. She told all. Another person came forward from Mr Nettles’ own household and confirmed that meetings have taken place. Piece by piece, the story has emerged and come to a head today. Indeed, it is because no one wished to contribute to gossip that no one spoke out initially but now the flood-gates have opened and the truth has finally emerged. I did suggest to Mrs Bolton it would not end well.”
Adelia frowned. No, she thought. That is not how gossip works; people don’t keep it to themselves. She could believe that the tattle of the lady’s maid was a catalyst but someone had fanned the flames of it all, and they must have had a reason.
Misdirection, of course. And, of course, Lady Purfleet’s indignation that her “advice” had been ignored. Spite had a lot to do with this evening’s events.
Lady Purfleet was watching Adelia closely. “I am sorry that you have experienced this. It brings credit to no one. Please come and sit with us. Do you attend the ballet often?”
“I have not been to a ballet for a year or more. Thank you, Lady Purfleet. Please allow me a moment to catch some air.” Adelia spun around and made for the door. She didn’t look for Charlotte and she didn’t care to. She wanted to leave, but
