Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dinner had been tolerable, if bland, and now, in the main parlour, Eugenia pressed her cards against her chest and looked across the table at Susan.
They were paired with each other against Lady Henrietta and Lady Catherine for a game of Whist. Where they would normally have chattered incessantly, both Eugenia and Susan remained quiet, outside of talk directly related to the game at hand.
For Eugenia’s part, she was afraid that she might say the wrong thing and offend the ladies they were playing against, but she suspected that Susan’s quietude stemmed from a feeling of awkwardness at being grouped with Lady Henrietta after the drama at Lady Mowbray’s St. Valentine’s Day Ball.
Neither one treated the other with open enmity, but the atmosphere at the table held a certain chill, nonetheless.
Eugenia darted a glance to her left, studying Lady Catherine’s thoughtful expression. She and Lady Henrietta had taken several tricks already, and were well on their way to beating Susan and Eugenia quite soundly when Lady Henrietta cleared her throat.
“Lady Eugenia?”
The redhead’s voice was soft and tentative, and Eugenia thought that she might have detected a bit of a tremble in it.
Eugenia lifted her eyes from the cards in her hand to meet Lady Henrietta’s gaze.
“Yes?”
“I… well, I just wanted to say thank you for being so kind when Percy and I arrived this afternoon. After my hideous behaviour this past February, I was not expecting a warm welcome from anyone, especially not—”
Whatever she had been about to say, Lady Henrietta cut herself off and blushed. Eugenia knew what she meant, though.
Especially not a friend of Lady Seabury’s.
Eugenia reached over and patted Lady Henrietta’s hand.
“Everyone makes mistakes, as I know all too well. Personally, I don’t believe it’s fair to punish anyone for the way they behaved during what may have been a distressing time for them.”
“That’s a lovely way to treat people, to be sure.
Still, what I did was selfish and wrong, no matter what my motivations were.
” Here, Lady Henrietta turned and raised her gaze to meet Susan’s.
She swallowed hard, then pressed on. “I am truly sorry for what I tried to do to you, Lady Seabury, and to your husband and Lord D’Asti, as well. ”
Susan laid her cards face down on the table, her expression softening from shock to tentative warmth.
“As Lady Eugenia suggested, we had no way to know what you may or may not have been going through at the time, so I see no reason to hold your past mistakes against you, either.”
“This has all been lovely and sentimental, but would the three of you mind if we got back to our Whist game now?”
Lady Catherine’s voice was stiff, and devoid of emotion. She had remained focused on her cards for the entirety of their conversation, and made her play, taking yet another trick.
Susan pursed her lips as she stared down at the cards on the table.
“I believe that’s the game, ladies. Neatly won.”
Susan and Eugenia started tallying up how much money they owed the other pair, and prepared to pay it, but Lady Catherine held up a hand.
“I don’t need your money, ladies. The thrill of victory is quite enough to satisfy me, though my partner, Lady Henrietta, is more than welcome to my share of the winnings.
” Something about the emphasis Lady Catherine put on the word victory sent a shiver down Eugenia’s spine.
The Duchess of Elkington’s daughter was a formidable adversary at the card table, and Eugenia got the feeling that she would be an equally formidable competitor in the marriage mart.
She could easily have any man she set her sights on, and it chilled Eugenia to the bone to think that, perhaps, Lady Catherine had set her sights on Lord D’Asti, as well. “Shall we play another hand?”
Lady Catherine’s voice was a purr, and she was obviously ready and willing to beat them soundly once again.
As Eugenia was trying to decide whether or not she was up to another round against Lady Catherine and Lady Henrietta, a delighted cackle erupted at the other card table across the parlour from them.
All four women turned their gazes to the scene unfolding among the other players.
“I almost feel badly for accepting my winnings when you bet so much.”
Lady Rosebury’s victorious smirk and the greed glittering in her beady eyes belied her words as a red-faced Lady Bellingham counted out the other woman’s winnings into her waiting palm.
Lady Catherine leaned towards Susan, then, and spoke in a whisper.
“I enjoy betting on card games as much as anybody, but that’s an obscene amount of money to lose in a single hand of a friendly game of Whist.”
“Indeed it is,” Susan whispered back, shaking her head with a sympathetic frown.
“Judging by the expression on our hostess’ face, I’d say the game is getting less friendly by the moment.”
Eugenia had murmured the words more to herself than anyone else, but Lady Henrietta chuckled and quickly covered it with a delicate cough.
As they watched the other table, they saw Lydia’s gaze flash from her mother and Lady Rosebury’s exchange to the other guests at the party looking on.
All the colour drained from her face, her lips pressed into a grim line, and she shot up from her seat.
Eugenia had seen that exact expression on Lydia’s face countless times before, when she tired of people gaping at the spectacle Lady Bellingham was making of herself, more often than not.
For a moment, Eugenia considered leaning over and whispering to Susan to tell her exactly what Lydia was about to do, but Lady Catherine and Lady Henrietta might hear.
Even if Lydia had been instrumental in humiliating Eugenia at Lady Duncan’s Ball, she would not return the favour.
It was tempting to be petty and seek retribution, but ultimately it wasn’t worth it.
However, she could have bet and won a hefty sum if she’d wagered on what Lydia’s next move would be, because she’d seen this particular routine dozens of times before.
Like clockwork, Lydia raised her arm, pressed the back of her hand against her forehead, moaned something incoherent, and crashed to the floor like a dropped sack of potatoes.
For a moment, the entire room was still, suspended in shock, then all at once every woman in the room cried out and rushed to crowd around Lydia and check on her. A housemaid was the first to reach Lydia, dropping to her knees and urgently fanning her face.
“Are you all right Miss?”
Lydia’s eyes opened and she glared up at the housemaid with a fierce frown.
“I’d be quite a lot better if you weren’t shouting in my ear like a senseless ninny. Stop screeching and help me up.”
Lady Catherine sucked in a disapproving gasp at Lydia’s harsh words for the housemaid, and Eugenia wordlessly hummed her agreement.
It was at that moment that Lady Bellingham realised that Lydia had, perhaps, over-corrected for where the attentions in the room were focused.
So, pink-cheeked and exasperated, Lady Bellingham cleared her throat and forced a broad smile.
“Well, that was a delightful start to our little party, but your guest suites should be ready now. I think it best if we all go and refresh ourselves before the true fun and games begin on the morrow.”
“Well, I never,” Lady Catherine hissed under her breath.
Still, everyone in the room recognised a dismissal when they saw one and they filtered out into the hall, all following housemaids who would lead them to their guest suites.
Eugenia was the last to leave the parlour, following the maid who’d rushed to Lydia’s aid, only to be snapped at.
Just as she stepped across the threshold, someone crashed into Eugenia’s side, sending her reeling.
She bounced off the doorframe, emitting a most unladylike startled grunt.
Warm, firm hands wrapped around her arms, keeping her upright.
“I’m terribly sorry.”
Eugenia gasped the words, as if the collision was her fault entirely.
“No, the fault is mine, my li—” She would have recognised that rich voice, the Italian accent, anywhere.
He might have spent much of his life in England, might have multiple estates here, but in so many ways, he was utterly, unchangeably, Italian.
A thrill shot through her as she tipped her head back to meet his dark gaze, even as he cut himself off and cleared his throat before speaking again. “Lady Eugenia.”
He released her and took a half-step back, leaving Eugenia feeling suddenly colder than she had prior to their bumping into each other, as if his touch had been the only thing warming her. She offered him a tentative smile, even as she ached at the space that he’d deliberately put between them.
“I’m very glad to see you again after so long, Lord D’Asti.”
“And I you.” The words were correct and polite, but there was a level of detachment in them which Eugenia had not expected from him, after all of their previous encounters.
His handsome face, too, was twisted into a fierce scowl.
“But I’m afraid you must excuse me for now. I have… business to attend to.”
“Oh.” Eugenia hated how vulnerable and confused that single syllable sounded. “Yes, of course. I’m terribly sorry to have troubled you with my clumsiness, Lord D’Asti.”
She curtsied, her cheeks burning with the sting of rejection and the shame which she could not help but feel at him being so curt and dismissive. Lord D’Asti returned the gesture with a quick bow, then strode away down the hall, as if he could not get away from her quickly enough.
He must have read about what happened after he departed Lady Duncan’s Ball, and it seems he’s furious with me.
Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, but Eugenia blinked them away and looked around for Susan, who’d paused beside the maid who would guide her, a mere few strides up the hall, to wait for Eugenia.
Eugenia’s bottom lip trembled, despite her best efforts otherwise, and her face crumpled with distress at Susan’s sympathetic expression.
Susan held out her hands and shook her head, silently pleading with Eugenia not to cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of someone who might talk. Eugenia’s throat tightened and she blinked faster as she rushed over to Susan’s side.
“Hold it together, dearest.” Susan whispered, looping her arm through Eugenia’s as the maids led them to their rooms. “Never let them see your distress. Do not give your competition that satisfaction.”
“My competition.”
Eugenia blew out a ragged sigh as they hurried along behind the maids to their assigned suites of rooms.
The moment that Lady Bellingham’s maids excused themselves and the doors closed behind them, Eugenia leaned heavily against them and sank to the floor, for her shaking legs would no longer support her.
Now, there was only Susan, and their own maids who were in the little attached rooms, to hear her.
“He hates me now.” The words felt like shards of glass in her throat, on her lips, but that was the only rational explanation she could think of, which would explain his behaviour in the hall just now.
Words tumbled out of her in a panicked rush, growing faster and faster as she went on.
“He must have seen that awful article in The Society Reporter and decided to move on, since I am all but ruined, and by my own careless tongue, no less. This is an absolute disaster.”
Susan gripped Eugenia by the shoulders and gave her a slight shake to pull her out of her downward spiral.
“I have told you once today already, and I will tell you again, do not be so quick to jump to conclusions. Neither should you assume that the worst possible scenario is the truth without irrefutable proof that that actually is the case.”
“But how can we know if we can never get a moment alone with D’Asti to ask him if he saw the article, if that’s why he’s been so cold since arriving at Bellingham Park?
How can we possibly know, with so many prying eyes and listening ears, not to mention Lady Catherine and her mother arriving with Lord D’Asti. What did that signify?”
Susan gently tugged Eugenia through the sitting room that their suites shared, to her bedroom, and sat down on the edge of the bed, tugging Eugenia down with her.
“You should try to get some rest. You will feel better if you sleep. And in the meantime, I shall ask Neville to find out what we need to know of Lord D’Asti.”
“But… should we pry?” Eugenia bit her lip and stared down at the carpet. “Surely, if the Count wanted to continue his association with us — with me — he would do so without us having to ask Neville to snoop into his private affairs for us.”
“Well, I suppose that is for you to decide. Let me know, in the morning, what you choose. In the meantime, try to get whatever rest you can. Do not give that putrid hoyden Lydia any reason to remark on how piqued you look.”