Chapter Eleven
T he tea party was in full swing at the Duchess of Gransford’s impressive residence, with the parlor transformed into a restaurant-type setting. The plush chairs and sofas were pushed against the walls, with round tables and chairs filling the floor. At the front of the room, a long table with a lace tablecloth held silver platters of savory sandwiches, fruit, biscuits, and loaf cakes. There were three Victoria sponge cakes, cream puffs, petit fours, lemon tartlets, and more. It was quite an elaborate spread. And what would a tea party be without scones and clotted cream?
An introductory tea was served first, and the ladies were encouraged to mill about the room and chat with each other before taking their seats. Blast it. Name cards were at the tables, so Corrine could not choose where she sat. She must gather the information now before the food was served. The servants were already filling the silver three-tiered trays.
About to survey the crowd, Corrine caught the Duchess of Gransford strolling toward her out of the corner of her eye.
“Baroness Addington, I am so pleased you came. I had hoped to speak to you a moment.”
“Your Grace. Thank you for inviting me,” Corrine replied politely.
“Drew tells me you were a nurse. So was I, back in the day.”
Corrine tried to keep the surprise from her expression. The duchess had been a nurse?
“Drew also said you will be assisting him once a week,” the duchess continued. “Thank you. We can use all the help we can get. However, I do have a favor to ask.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
“We could use more volunteers at the free clinics; a couple of hours a week is all I require. I know approaching you this way is forward, but my nephew sang your praises. I would also like to invite you to our next board meeting so you can see what the foundation does. If it interests you, we can use you on our committee.”
She had already decided to volunteer, but sitting on a committee? How could she refuse a duchess? She couldn’t. Besides, Corrine wished to do something worthwhile. Why not join a meaningful project that utilized her talents? “Doctor Hornsby has already spoken to me about the clinics, and I plan to volunteer. And I think I’d like to attend your next meeting very much.”
“Wonderful!” The duchess smiled. “I will send word next month. You are a dear. But now, I must resume my hostess duties. We will talk later, Baroness.” The duchess lightly touched her arm, then moved toward another group of ladies.
“Corrine, is that you?”
Corrine turned to find a petite woman staring at her. Maybe not all that petite, as Corrine was barely four inches over five feet, and this woman was only an inch or two shorter. But this lady looked familiar. Very familiar, indeed.
The woman placed her hands on her hips, looking thoroughly exasperated. “Oh, come on. I’m Celia Gillingham. Although I’m now the Countess of Winterwood, more’s the pity.”
Celia was married to an earl? “Celia! Can you forgive me? It has been too long since Miss Langston’s Finishing School.” Corrine was genuinely pleased to see her. Celia always possessed a sunny disposition despite the tragedy of losing her parents at the vulnerable age of ten years.
They kissed each other’s cheek. “Well, I have changed a little. I finally grew a few inches taller than five feet and lost most of that youthful plumpness.”
“When did you marry?” Corrine asked.
Celia took her arm and led her to a more private part of the room, half-hidden behind a massive fern. “I stayed at Miss Langston’s as long as I possibly could. I told you of my situation.”
Yes, Corrine recalled the tragic incident that had brought Celia to the finishing school. Celia’s parents had taken a moonlight trip along the east coast of England on the SS Princess Alice, where it had been struck by another ship. Over six hundred lives had been lost, including Celia’s parents. After that unspeakable tragedy, Celia had lived with her aunt, The Countess of Darrington. While she’d come to like her aunt well enough, her cousin, Troy Buckingham, Viscount Shinwell, had tormented her constantly. Celia even confessed he had tried to enter her bedroom at night more than once. After that, she’d been sent away to school and rarely visited.
Corrine nodded. “Yes, I remember. Aan untenable state of affairs.”
“Well, my uncle wasted no time marrying me off. I could have refused, but I did not want to return to that house as my cousin still lived there. So, I agreed. Winterwood is sixty-five now.”
Corrine couldn’t keep a gasp from escaping. Celia’s husband was thirty-five years older than her? My God.
“Carlton is all right. We get on well enough,” Celia continued. “I look after him, and he keeps a comfortable roof over my head. He isn’t cruel. We are in London to see his doctor. Or so I surmise.”
“Where do you live?” Corrine asked, completely caught up in the conversation.
“As far north as north goes, and still live in England—the hamlet of Marshall Meadows near the border to Scotland. Ever since Carlton’s health started to decline, we rarely travel to London. He hasn’t been to the House of Lords in years.”
“How long are you here in London? You must come for tea.”
“We leave tomorrow morning, but he will delay our departure by a day if I ask.” Celia gave her a pointed look. “Why didn’t you answer my letters all those years ago? Why did you ignore me?”
“I apologize. It was not well done of me. If you come tomorrow for tea, I will explain everything,” Corrine said.
“Very well, I’ll come. I know who else you can invite—another mutual school friend of ours, Selena Seaton. She is also married to an older man, the Duke of Barnsdale. I believe she’s here at this party.”
“Selena married a duke?” Corrine gasped, feigning her response since she already knew Selena would be in attendance. The three of them had been inseparable when they were younger. How tragic they had drifted apart. And much of that was Corrine’s fault. “What do you know about it?”
“As I rarely come to town, not much. But if Selena hasn’t changed, she will fill us in on the details. Come, let us seek her out.”
Celia clasped Corrine’s hand and gently pulled her into the multitude of ladies chatting along the room’s perimeter. Her teacup rattled precariously on the saucer as she bumped into a few women.
“Selena!” Celia called out, attracting attention.
Selena, standing with three other ladies, turned and stared. Corrine nearly gasped at the cold expression Selena turned their way. Then she excused herself from the other ladies and came to stand before them.
“I see you haven’t changed,” Selena sniffed haughtily. “Still loud and rambunctious, Celia.”
Celia tsked. “But it appears you have, Selena. Why so remote? Especially with us? We may not have all seen each other for close to fifteen years, but we were close friends.”
Corrine gently touched Selena’s arm, and Selena flinched in response. “What is the matter?” Corrine whispered. This was not like Selena at all. At school, she had been the leader of the trio, forthright and quick to smile and laugh. She’d often secretly raided the school larder, sneaking them biscuits late at night. Being a year older and taller, she’d often protected Celia and Corrine from some of the older girls’ teasing, cruel ways.
A shuddering sigh escaped Selena’s lips. “Please, leave me alone.”
“We will not,” Celia replied firmly. “Corrine has invited me for tea tomorrow. Why don’t you come as well? Please. I want us all to be friends again. I am sorry we drifted apart. Little did we guess at the unexpected turns our lives might take.”
Corrine removed her hand. “Please do come, Selena.” It was apparent she would not be able to glean much information from anyone in this crowded setting.
“I will come,” Selena said, her tone emotionless. “What is the address?”
“You will come? You’re not just saying that to put us off?” Celia asked.
Selena’s mouth twisted. “I do not lie.”
“Thirty Wimpole Street, Marylebone. I recently married Baron Addington,” Corrine replied.
“Please tell me he is at least younger than Winterwood,” Celia exclaimed.
Corrine smiled. “Yes, a little. Come at two o’clock. I will have sandwiches and tea ready. Selena, do you still like shrimp sandwiches? I remember you saying you would ensure you had them every day as soon as you were married.”
Selena inclined her head. “I do. I will see you tomorrow, then,” she said, turning and returning to the ladies she’d been speaking with.
“Holy crow,” Celia whispered. “What in the hell happened to her?”
Leave it to Celia to express her own thoughts so succinctly. “I do not know. But I believe it’s quite possible she will not show up tomorrow.”
Celia sipped her tea. “I think there’s still a chance she will. Behind the inaccessible mask, I saw a flash of sadness in her eyes. And loneliness. I can relate.”
“Did you see that? How astute. I wonder if we dare ask anyone about her situation. Someone here tonight might know what’s going on in her life.” Then she looked closer at Celia. “But I am sorry you feel the same. In a way, I can relate as well.” Perhaps more than she was letting on.
At that moment, the Duchess of Gransford called for attention. “Good afternoon, ladies. If you take your seats, luncheon will be served. You see the crystal bowl at the table by the door? I would appreciate it if you would leave a note of donation for the Hornsby-Wollstonecraft initiative. We sponsor free medical care for those who cannot afford it, along with education and legal services. Thank you.”
The women weaved in and around the tables, finding their seats.
“I will ask around, and so should you. Something is wrong,” Celia said. “And I aim to discover what is going on. I will come early tomorrow, before two, and we can compare notes.”
“Yes, do,” Corrine nodded. Besides finding out any information on Selena for her Galway investigative assignment, she was genuinely concerned for her friend. Was Selena cheating on her husband, the Duke of Barnsdale? It didn’t seem possible. But then, did she really know her friend anymore?
*
As promised, Celia arrived a little after half past one. Corrine led her into the parlor. “I will wait to see if Selena comes before I serve the tea. I’m sorry I never answered your letter after I left school. I discovered soon after my mother’s death that we were nearly destitute. I had to find employment and take over the running of the finances. I will admit I felt shame over our reduced circumstances.”
“What a terrible burden for a sixteen-year-old,” Celia said, tsking. “It explains why you never answered our letters. You could have told us, though. We might have been able to help.”
“I would never encumber my friends with such a burden. I will tell you more if and when Selena arrives. What do you know about her husband? Did you and Selena keep in contact?”
“I stayed at the school until age nineteen. They wouldn’t let me linger about any longer, especially when my detestable uncle stopped paying the tuition. Selena left the year before I did. She is a year older than us. As soon as I married and moved to the Scottish border, I wrote you both, but I never received a response from either of you. As far as Barnsdale, I asked Carlton about him last night.” Celia glowered, her brows furrowed in concern.
“Carlton said the duke must be near fifty-five years of age now. In the few dealings he’d had with him, however, Carlton found the man to be arrogant, vain, and thoroughly unlikeable. He’d also heard rumors that the duke had engaged in multiple affairs, even going so far as to attend those depraved parties where women are passed around as if on a dessert tray. There are no children. Well, there isn’t with Carlton and me, either, which means nothing, really. Carlton is not sure when the marriage took place. Nine years ago or less?”
Multiple affairs? What bloody cheek for the Duke of Barnsdale to hire the Galway Investigative Agency to make inquiries concerning Selena when he was rumored to have indulged in varied extracurricular activities himself. Typical aristocratic men.
“It sounds as if you get on with your husband.”
Celia shrugged. “As I said yesterday, Carlton’s all right. We are friends of a sort. The age gap can sometimes be difficult, but we manage.”
“Yesterday, I asked the ladies at my table about Selena. They told me she rarely attends social events, and when she does attend, she comes alone. ‘Not a love match,’ one lady told me.”
Celia snorted. “I’m not surprised. What aristocratic marriage is a love match?”
Corrine was about to speak when the butler entered the room. “The Duchess of Barnsdale.”
Corrine rose and immediately hurried toward Selena. She embraced her, but Selena stiffened as if she did not like being touched. Corrine stepped back and took Selena’s gloved hand. “I am so very pleased you came. Thomason, bring the tea tray at once.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Celia also got up to welcome Selena. “I knew you would come. Here we are, all together again. The Bluebells are reunited. Remember how we fantasized about marrying handsome men who would become friends, and the six of us would live happily ever after?”
Corrine laughed. “Oh, yes. The dreams of young girls. I had forgotten that we had called ourselves the Bluebells. Was it our eye color?”
“Yes, and the fact that bluebells symbolize humility, constancy, and everlasting love,” Selena replied sarcastically. “We vowed our futures would follow that path.” She barked out a cynical laugh. “Well, none of that came true for me.”
Corrine took Selena’s arm and gently led her to the settee. “I’m not all that certain it came true for any of us.” Celia sat next to Selena, and Corrine sat across from her. “I wish, first and foremost, to apologize for leaving school so abruptly, and not keeping in contact. You were like sisters to me, and yet I callously cut you both from my life.”
“Well, we should have come to you to ask why,” Celia murmured. “I must admit, I silently fumed. And I was hurt. Remember, Selena?”
The duchess nodded. “I felt the same.”
Knowing she had hurt her friends cut to the bone. “I don’t blame you both at all for not seeking me out. There is no excuse, but I’ll explain why I did not answer Celia’s initial letter all those years ago.” Then she proceeded to tell her old friends a condensed version of her life over the past ten years.
Celia’s eyes widened. “A nurse? It’s a noble profession, but to take on the family’s financial problems on your own. Was there no one you could turn to? Other family members?”
“No. There was no one.”
Celia frowned. “Blast money. It’s the cause of so much misery. But good for you for taking the money offered. And now you’re separated from your husband? Any chance of a reconciliation?”
“There was not much of a bond between us to begin with. All I feel is shame for rushing into marriage because the family was near ruin.” Corrine exhaled with a shuddering breath. “Still, my abrupt departure without explanation was not well done of me. We were girls, and our actions and reactions reflected our immaturity. Again, I do apologize.”
“I accept, and we are sorry for not seeking you out. We should have known something was wrong,” Celia replied. “Selena?”
“Yes, I agree and accept.”
“Can we be friends again?” Corrine asked. “Please, let us promise to keep in touch. I have missed you both terribly. I will be honest; I have no other friends. I’ve been too busy to seek any.”
Celia sighed. “Me neither. Especially since I live in near isolation in Northern England. Let’s be friends again.” They looked to Selena, who nodded. The relief Corrine felt was palatable.
“I would like to ask your advice on something rather personal, now that we’re bosom friends again.” She smiled, trying to gather her nerve. “It seems that…another man has caught my attention,” she blurted. “Am I selfish for wishing to be free from my vows and see where this mutual attraction goes? I do not know what to do.”
“What to do?” Selena exclaimed. “Engage a solicitor and come to an arrangement with your husband, even if it means you must return some of the money. Save yourself before you become a hollowed-out husk devoid of emotion. Like me.”
Selena’s stark words cut through Corrine’s soul. Corrine wanted to love, and be loved. But who was to say she would find all that with Mitchell? She hardly knew him. Then again, she knew him better than her husband. Deep down, Mitchell appealed to her in every way. She looked carefully at her friend. Other than her situation, what had happened to Selena?
“What is it? Is it Barnsdale? Please talk to us, Selena,” Corrine urged.
“Yes. We might not have been in contact the past ten years or so, but I thought of you both often,” Celia said softly. “You can tell us anything, Selena.”
The room was brimming with emotion, as if all their pent-up emotions of the past several years were escaping in a rush. The air fairly crackled with it. Selena’s eyes shimmered with tears. “I hate him,” she whispered miserably. “He is cold, cruel, and controlling. I have started doing charity work, just to get away from him. Mostly in the early evenings when he is home. I cannot bear to face him.”
That was why Barnsdale thought Selena was having an affair. She was away most nights. Inwardly, Corrine was relieved. She could report to the Galway Investigative Agency that Selena was doing charity work. If the agency wished to investigate further, they had the option.
“Has Barnsdale—hit you?” Corrine asked softly.
“He wouldn’t dare,” Selena snarled. “I would put a bullet here.” Selena pointed to her forehead, right between her eyes. “I have an appointment with a solicitor in two weeks’ time, where I will be examining my options. I have had enough.”
Corrine and Celia exchanged astonished looks.
“Good for you. You should take a lover,” Celia stated firmly.
Selena shook her head. “After what I endured with Barnsdale? I want no other man to lay a hand on me ever again.”
Thomason and Jonathan, the footman, entered the room carrying the tea service and the three-tiered tower filled with sandwiches, biscuits, and tarts. After setting up the afternoon tea on the table, the servants departed.
What Selena had related opened up all sorts of questions, but that was better left for another time. Corrine could see that just the little bit Selena had already confided had taken an emotional toll on her.
“Look—shrimp sandwiches. And Celia, I recall you prefer egg, salad cream, and watercress. There is also ham and cheese and beefsteak and onion,” Corrine said.
“Brilliant!” Celia exclaimed as she picked up a plate and piled sandwich wedges. “I am famished. Selena…” Celia passed her a plate. “Tuck in.”
Reluctantly, Selena took the offered plate and laid three shrimp sandwiches on it.
“I wish we were staying longer,” Celia said, sighing as she laid her cloth napkin on her lap. “But Carlton is insistent we return to Marshall Meadows before the snow accumulates. I do not know when I will be back in London. But I am a prodigious writer. Promise me you will both answer my letters. We will exchange addresses before we leave.”
Selena reached into her reticle, retrieved a lace handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. Corrine studied her. Her friend had lost none of her fair beauty, and her golden-red hair still gleamed. But she seemed almost overwhelmed by sadness. And weariness.
“I will, I swear,” Corrine replied.
“Yes,” Selena replied shakily. “And so shall I.”
Corrine poured the tea and passed the cups and saucers to her rediscovered friends. The years melted away, and they spoke as openly and honestly as they had when they were girls. Corrine was pleased.
Seeing Selena so miserable and Celia living in near isolation with a man almost old enough to be her grandfather convinced Corrine that she should do something about her marriage. Life was short. Why should she live it without feeling loved? If not with Mitchell, then someone else?
But she did not want ‘someone else.’ Only Mitchell.
Well. That was a firm admission.
She would do as Selena suggested, offering to return some of the money in exchange for a quick divorce if such could be achieved. Satisfied she had made the correct decision, Corrine smiled and sat back in her chair. It was the first time she had felt truly content in a long time.