Chapter 21 #2
Augusta made the smallest gasp. Both of us looked at her, as she stepped back behind us and schooled her expression. “Brother, dear,” she said, opening her fan and raising it to cover her mouth. “It seems Lady Timbrell has included your friends in the party tonight.”
Lord Camden stole a glance over his shoulder, and his face turned grim.
“How very kind of her.” I looked for myself.
There were two groups circled together. One was composed of two couples similarly aged to Lady Camden, who went straightaway to greet them.
The other group kept stealing glances at us and were closer to our age.
Two men, one tall and wiry who smirked under his waxed mustache, and the other short and broad-shouldered with long side whiskers, gave us a look of definite concern.
But it was the woman of exceptional beauty standing between them who caught my attention and kept it.
The off-the-shoulder neckline of her bold red gown sat dangerously low, and her bell skirt had more fabric than I had ever seen on a gown.
With one hand on the hip of her tiny fringed waist, she pushed back a long gold lock off her shoulder with the other.
She stared at Lord Camden with a demanding sort of hunger.
I didn’t know her, but I knew right away that I wouldn’t like her at all.
Where Lord Timbrell had exuded kindness, the air about her reeked of overindulgence and self-importance.
Reginald had given me a large allowance for clothes and nice things, but this woman wore them differently—as if she desired to flaunt her wealth and her person.
“What are you waiting for, Atlas?” Augusta asked. “You must be the one to make introductions.”
“Of course.”
Lord Camden could be serious, but I would never call him somber.
However, the lines of his face seemed leeched of the relaxed happiness I had seen before entering this room, and the hard set of his eyes left me wondering if he were angry, wary, or both.
There was a story between our guests and Lord Camden, and though I had no business knowing it, my curiosity burned worse than a hot drink.
There was no time to inquire. Lord Camden led the way to his friends. They opened the circle to include him, but he stopped short before completing it. Augusta pulled me forward, so we stood even with him.
“Camden,” the taller man greeted, his smirk still fixed under his mustache. “You have finally found the strength to join us. I do hope this means you are completely healed.”
I immediately disliked this man too and his condescending words.
“I am fully recovered.” Lord Camden did not expound. “You know my sister, Miss Wilde. This is her companion, Miss Lewis. Ladies, this is Mr. Matthew Barry,” he said, pointing to the tall man. “This is Mr. Fredrick Abramson,” he said, motioning to the shorter man. “And this is Miss Mary Anne Klein.”
I dipped into another curtsy, my mind connecting the name of Mary Anne to the one Augusta had told me about—the one who Lord Camden had wanted to marry before his accident.
When I lifted my head, it was to meet Miss Klein’s sharp, appraising eyes.
In a flash, she shifted them back to Lord Camden.
“It has been some time since we have had the pleasure of your company, Miss Wilde,” Miss Klein said.
I think it was dinner at Rosemont, if I recall. But that was, what? Seven months ago?”
Lord Camden cleared his throat. “It was last August, I believe.”
His face closed off, and I could not read his emotions at all. If he had invited them to dine, then they really were his friends . . . or at least they had been at one time. But he had not acted at all excited to see them.
“Much too long.” Mr. Abramson slapped Lord Camden on the shoulder. “You’ve been missed.”
A tip of his head was all the response Lord Camden gave him.
“Miss Wilde,” Mr. Barry said. “What a pleasure to have you join us tonight.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barry.” Augusta’s wide smile would never catalog her as a demure debutante. I hoped her openness would not make her a target for forward men. I wasn’t certain if Mr. Barry was one of those who she needed to be wary of.
Mr. Barry turned his attention to me. “And Miss Lewis, was it? I hope you are enjoying your time at Rosemont.”
“I am, thank you.”
“It’s not been too confining for you? What with a brooding baron about the house?”
“Barry,” Mr. Abramson nudged him. “Be nice.”
“I do not know what you are talking about,” I said, jumping into the conversation. “Though, I primarily spend my time with Miss Wilde.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Mr. Barry said, scowling. “It must be a regular house party there, what with you being so beautiful and unattached. Perhaps that is the real reason we have not seen Lord Camden for these many months.”
“That’s enough, Barry.” Lord Camden’s voice was low and more serious than I had yet heard it.
Miss Klein quirked her brow and stuck out her plump lips into a pout. “Is it true, Lord Camden? Is she the reason why you have been neglecting us.”
By us, I knew she meant herself. If I were in her place, waiting for a proposal, I suppose I would have wanted to know the same. However, when it came out of her mouth, it sounded whiny and petulant.
As much as I did not want to draw attention to myself at the moment, I couldn’t stand still and let anyone think that Lord Camden had remained at home because of my presence. What an absolutely absurd idea. “Am I to understand you are Lord Camden’s friends?”
“One does wonder,” Augusta grumbled.
Lord Camden’s face was a mixture of surprise and respect. He faced his so-called friends. “Miss Lewis has only been with us a few short weeks. I was hoping she would be impressed by the company we keep here in Rivendale.”
“Come now, Camden,” Mr. Barry said with a short laugh. “We were in jest. You must forgive us, Miss Lewis. As old friends, sometimes we are remiss in filtering our words. You understand, don’t you? We meant no harm.”
“Certainly not,” Miss Klein added. “I am ashamed that you thought us at all serious.”
I stared at the faces of the three acquaintances in front of me, trying to take their true measure. I wasn’t certain what to make of their apologies. Had I overreacted? I was supposed to be a model for Augusta to follow, and I was squirming in my place.
“Dinner is served.”
The announcement broke the awkward silence from my lack of response.
“May I walk you into dinner?” Mr. Abramson asked, extending his arm to Augusta.
She glanced at me and then back at Mr. Abramson. His ruddy cheeks were stretched into a friendly smile. He was the one friend of Lord Camden’s I thought I could approve of. I gave her a nod of encouragement, although she did not need my permission.
Augusta slid her arm in Mr. Abramson’s, and they stepped away from the group. Miss Klein quickly sidled up to Lord Camden. “It is good to see you again.” She slid her arm into Lord Camden’s as if she owned the appendage and the man attached to it. Bile formed in my throat.
“Miss Lewis, might I have the honor of escorting you to dinner?” Gone was the smirk from earlier. It was replaced by a kind smile—one I was not sure I could trust—but it did soften Mr. Barry in my mind.
“Certainly.” I set my hand lightly on his arm, and we followed Augusta. Like a glutton for punishment, I glanced behind me. Lord Camden met my gaze. The hard look in his eyes was back. Had I done something to upset him? Or was he still put out with his friends?
When I turned back, I saw the profile of a man leaving the drawing room. A man I recognized from Northamptonshire. Mr. Peter Goodwin. I froze, unable to move.
“Miss Lewis?” Mr. Barry asked.
I shot him a feigned smile and forced my feet forward.
Peter Goodwin was Reginald’s friend. He had stayed with us once, years ago, for a short weekend on his way to the seaside. I had matured since then, but I had not gone through any great transformation. My heart thudded like a frightened animal cornered by a predator. He was bound to recognize me.
Nora’s warnings flashed through my mind.
My ruse was about to end.