Chapter Twenty-Six
Eve and Nia had begun their first London Season already at a disadvantage nearly four years earlier. By the third ball they’d attended, Eve had been deeply discouraged. All around, people had whispered in not-quiet-enough voices about their overly plain gowns and about how obvious it was that they were out of their element. Less than a fortnight into their first foray into Society and they were already sinking.
In the midst of the cruel dismissals, word had begun circulating that Artemis Lancaster had arrived. The presence of Society’s reigning diamond guaranteed that the ball would be deemed the Society gathering of the night.
The Queen of Society, to Eve’s shock, made her way to where the rejected Irish sisters were huddled together. And she was wearing a gown of lovely but decidedly ordinary fabric with very little adornment.
Artemis arrived beside them. “How lovely to see you both.” She smiled at them as if they were dear friends rather than literal strangers. “I’d hoped you would be in attendance tonight.” She hooked her arms through each of theirs and began a slow circuit of the ballroom, all eyes and ears on them as they passed. “You must tell me who your modiste is. She clearly doesn’t need to hide poor craftsmanship behind gaudy adornments and ridiculously lavish fabrics.”
That comment caught quite a few peoples’ attention.
“It is not, after all, the done thing this year, to look as though one were standing in the middle of a trimmings shop during a windstorm and emerged covered in frills and frippery.”
More whispers followed that. Artemis continued leading them around the room, letting such comments reach eavesdropping ears. She had stayed with the O’Doyles all evening. And she’d favored more simple gowns throughout the remainder of that Season, which Eve had known was purely to ease the way of two poor Irish sisters who had had nothing but plain gowns.
They’d been Huntresses ever since.
Looking over the faces of her friends now, gathered in a sitting room at Fairfield, Eve couldn’t entirely keep her thoughts away from that long-ago night and the miracle Artemis had worked for her and Nia and the blessing this group continued to be in their lives.
“Rose and I have so many ideas for further increasing the appeal of Miss Martinette’s,” Artemis said. She and Rose, who was also one of them, though she didn’t spend much time among them, had secretly opened a dress shop in London. “Our goal is that within three years, our shop will be not merely a place for obtaining gowns but also a sought-after location in London for the ton to see and be seen.”
“The Almack’s of dress shops?” Ellie asked with a laugh.
“We would never sink so low as to be compared to Almack’s.” Artemis managed the response with a strong feigned haughtiness but also with the right amount of earned dismissal—Almack’s was not what it had once been—that no one in the group could help but laugh.
It had become tradition that each of the Huntresses be provided with a dress from Miss Martinette’s ahead of Christmas and a gorgeous gown at the start of each Season. Nia and Eve were so close in size that they were able to share gowns, which helped tremendously.
As Eve ran her fingers lightly over the soft, floral-print muslin of the dress she had been given, she felt such a contradiction of emotions: Gratitude that her friends knew how to support each other without making anyone feel pitied or pathetic. Sorrow that she would see so little of them in the years to come. Happy for Nia that she would have two new dresses with this gift. Loneliness at knowing she herself wouldn’t have need of anything new or fine or flattering. Hope that Nia would be well enough to enjoy the Season when it began again. Worry over Dr. Wilstead’s warning about the potential for damage to Nia’s heart.
“Is it not to your liking?” Lisette asked quietly as she sat beside Eve.
“’Tis inarguably beautiful,” Eve answered.
Artemis had apparently been listening even while inspecting the fit of the gown she had brought for Gillian. “You might as well confess what is on your mind, Eve. We’ve all noticed your thoughts are elsewhere. And we have our suspicions there is more to your distraction than Nia’s poor health.”
“You’ll think me ridiculous,” she said.
“When have we ever objected to ‘ridiculous’?” Gillian grinned.
Eve did need to share some of her worries. There were far too many things she was carrying alone. She’d told Duke about her changed future and the difficulties associated with it, and that had helped while he’d been willing to support her. She didn’t dare share that with anyone else, having confessed it to him entirely by accident. She’d promised her parents not to spill the secret, especially to her sister. Telling the Huntresses of it would require them to keep the truth from Nia as well. She couldn’t pass that burden on. But she’d felt so abandoned and discarded after Duke’s rejection the night before that she’d hardly slept. Having some support from the Huntresses would help her feel less alone, even if they couldn’t know everything.
“I think Duke is angry with me. Or irritated.”
“He is certainly irritated with his family,” Ellie said.
“Who of us isn’t?” Daria immediately covered her mouth with her hands. From behind them, she said, “Oh, that was terribly rude.”
“But accurate,” Artemis said.
Their smiles and laughter helped ease some of Eve’s tension.
Lisette, in her usual soft manner, asked, “Why is it you think Duke is upset with you, in particular?”
Heavens, this was going to turn into a confession whether she wanted it to or not. Once she started talking about it, she was unlikely to entirely prevent herself from telling them all her feelings for him. Being guarded was not, or at least had not previously been, a skill of hers.
“Duke was truly lovely during our journey here. He was kind and attentive. We talked easily about everything imaginable. We laughed about so many things.” Those memories had been so delightful but now mostly made her want to cry. “He held my hand.” Her newfound ability to not spill all her secrets came to the rescue; she managed not to tell them that he’d held her and even kissed her.
“You’ve fallen a bit in love with him,” Gillian said.
There was little point in denying that. “More than a bit. And I thought the experience was a mutual one. But not long after we reached Fairfield—not immediately, but after a little while of being with everyone—he didn’t want to stand near me, and he didn’t smile at me like he had.”
They were all watching her now with mingled expressions of concern and offense on her behalf.
“He hasn’t been unkind,” she was quick to assure them. “At least I don’t think he has been deliberately. I know I said I thought he might be angry with me, but now that I’m finally talking about it, I don’t think that is quite right. I suspect he either realized I had come to believe there was more between us than he’d intended, and he’s attempting to prevent me from misunderstanding further, or upon reaching the house party, he had time to think on things a little more and realized that...” She swallowed quickly. “Realized that I am not really to his liking after all, beyond being a friend, at least.”
Lisette set her hand on Eve’s. The other Huntresses drew nearer to her as well, gathering around her.
“Do we need to vanquish him?” Artemis asked, clearly only half in jest.
“He was a little... blunt the last time I spoke with him,” she acknowledged. “And it was not enjoyable having things laid out so plainly, but I truly do not believe there was any intentional cruelty in his rejection.” It was still agonizing. “It is hardly his fault that he doesn’t have the same... feelings that I do. A person can’t be forced to love someone. And while I wish I could say otherwise, I think if he hadn’t been very direct about things, I probably would have gone on believing that we were viewing each other in the same way.”
Artemis sat on Eve’s other side and put an arm around her shoulders. “But bluntness and directness, even if not intentionally hurtful, still are not always kindnesses.”
Eve took a deep breath for what felt like the first time since talking with Duke in the corridor the night before. The pain wasn’t gone—she suspected it wouldn’t be for a very long time, if ever—but she felt a little less overwhelmed by it.
“He and I could still be friends, don’t you think? I would be devastated if we weren’t still friends, at least.”
“I think so,” Artemis said. “There may be some awkwardness at first, but I do think you two can get past that.”
Except if that awkwardness lasted beyond a fortnight, there would be no chance of getting past it. Eve would be permanently at Tulleyloch, and she’d not ever see Duke again. She didn’t want her last interactions with him to be uncomfortable or unhappy. There had to be a way to salvage the time she had left.
He’d always been comfortable being her friend. And this was a gathering of friends. If she pushed aside all the hurt and the hopes she’d begun to let herself entertain, they could walk away from each other as friends.
“What else is worrying you?” Ellie asked. “There’s clearly more.”
All the Huntresses were well aware that the O’Doyle family was far from plump in the pocket. It was the reason the Pack had arranged for Duke to make the journey from Ireland with them. Eve could talk a little about her concerns on that score without betraying the recent change in their situation.
“Dr. Wilstead says that Nia will need medicines and doctors’ care even after we’ve returned to Ireland. I’m not certain how we will manage to pay for that.”
Lisette squeezed her hand. Artemis tightened her embrace.
Eve continued. “I’m more worried, though, that Nia is likely also concerned about that. She needs to be able to rest, to worry about nothing beyond recovering.” Eve hadn’t admitted that worry to anyone yet. “If I can think of something that might help stretch the family budget, I could offer that reassurance to Nia. Dr. Wilstead says it is crucial that she rest as much as possible.”
“Does the doctor think Nia is growing more ill?” Daria asked.
Eve shook her head. “But he has emphatically told me that I need to watch for any indication that her heart might be struggling. Rheumatic fever can cause tremendous damage to the heart. Permanent, fatal damage.” She’d thought about this almost constantly since Dr. Wilstead had made his diagnosis. Speaking the words out loud was somehow both relieving and worrying. “If I can free her of even this one burden, she’ll be able to rest better. I need to give her that.”
“Perhaps you have a previously unrevealed talent for fashion,” Lisette said. “You could open a rival shop and race Miss Martinette’s to be the place to be seen in Society.”
They all laughed, and Eve found she could as well.
“I fear I will have to obtain my funds some other way,” she said. “Alas, I’ve no hidden fashion abilities.”
“What hidden abilities do you have?” Ellie asked.
“Only one. But it does have to be kept secret, as the ton would disapprove as wholeheartedly as they would a lady running a dress shop.”
With dry humor, Gillian said, “If only there were a way for you to feel confident that we could keep that particular variety of secret.”
That set them laughing again. How good they were for her. “I know I can trust Daria, at least. She already knows this secret.”
Daria smiled broadly, excitement pouring from her. “I haven’t told a soul.”
“I hope you mean to tell the rest of us, Eve,” Artemis said.
She’d wanted to tell them for years. Keeping secrets was not her natural inclination. She was currently keeping two very large ones from the Huntresses. There would be such relief in getting back to carrying only one at a time.
“I bake,” she said.
“And she is very good,” Daria said. “The scones we had at the very first gathering I planned during the Season were baked by Eve.”
“Those were marvelous.” Ellie’s eyes pulled wide.
“They certainly were.” Artemis looked impressed.
“I learned to bake as a means of saving the family money,” Eve said. “It lowers our expenses, but it doesn’t generate income. Even if I thought there were people near Tulleyloch who would buy baked things from us, there would be no explanation we could offer to explain how we’d come by the scones or cakes or whatever it might be.”
“That is a complication,” Gillian said.
“Baking might not be your answer to this difficulty,” Lisette said, “but there is an answer. I have full faith that there is. And among all of us, we will stumble upon it.”
“In the meantime,” Artemis said as she stood, “we will enjoy these gorgeous gowns”—she dipped a theatrical curtsy—“and think of ways to torture the Pack since Eve has told us we aren’t allowed to vanquish Duke specifically.”
Eve knew Artemis was teasing, so she wasn’t at all worried that Duke would actually be mistreated or that the Huntresses would reveal in any way what she had told them about the state of her heart. And while telling them didn’t remove the ache that resided there or the pain of having been abandoned after he’d promised to be a support in her struggles, it did help her breathe.
“And,” Artemis continued, “while we are tormenting the Pack, I propose that we make certain to also celebrate the unexpected absence of Mme Dupuis.”
Lisette smiled softly, even as the Huntresses all cheered. Eve put an arm around her and hugged her fiercely.
“We won’t ask you for details of how or why your aunt and uncle dispensed with her so quickly and thoroughly,” Gillian assured Lisette. “We are simply so happy that you are free of her.”
“And I am happy that we are all free of her,” Lisette said. “What suffering she caused at the last house party.”
“Do you think she will be with you again in London?” Artemis asked.
Lisette pressed her lips closed and didn’t answer.
Artemis reached over and set her hands atop Lisette’s. “I hadn’t realized that was more than I should have asked. I really won’t press you more on any of this. I promise.”
But Eve suspected Artemis would continue to wonder, just as she knew all the Huntresses would, what was rumbling under the surface of Lisette’s family.