Chapter Eight #4
“I’m fine,” Thea said, moving past her friend. “Everything is fine.” She kept moving and didn’t stop until she reached the inner sanctum of her room, and there she collapsed.
Sitting at her dressing table, Thea studied her reflection in the mirror. “You are a fool,” she told herself. “Twice over.”
Of course, her reflection didn’t argue.
But there was no time to waste feeling sorry for herself. Thea had to think of her sons. That traitorous yearning for someone special in her life, that desire for love and all it promised, were not for her. She’d had her chance, and she’d bungled it.
And perhaps her words with Lyon hadn’t been such a bad thing.
It brought him down to earth from her youthful dreams of “what might have been” to “what is.” Since everyone had their own self-interest at heart, including Lyon, with his talk of sons and curses, and Mirabel, with her social climbing, well, perhaps Thea should be mercenary as well.
If the Carpsley connection could place Jonathan in Westminster, why shouldn’t she take advantage of it?
In truth, the possibility of dirty play and troches from Lord Corkindale made Thea determined to keep the willful Lady Lila from becoming the next Lady Lyon.
There, she now had a purpose.
So determined, Thea dressed for dinner.
Lady Sophie joined them at the table, and Lyon paid great attention to her.
Thea decided over the creamed peas and her third glass of wine that they would make beautiful children—Sophie with her blonde beauty and Lyon with his dark handsomeness.
Oh, yes, adorable children. She smiled as the footman refilled her glass.
Thea didn’t usually drink more than one glass, but today had been a challenging day.
And it continued to be a challenging evening.
Lady Lila did her best to reclaim Lyon. He kept his distance.
He, Mirabel, Sir James, and Lady Sophie were involved in a spirited game of cards that had all the others gathered around them.
Thea’s presence was not needed, and it made her feel a bit alone.
He also didn’t look at Thea. Not once.
She knew because she kept her eye on him.
Mirabel excused herself from the table, giving her card hand over to Miss Pomfrey. She wandered over to where Thea sat in a corner. “What is the matter with you?” she whispered.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Thea answered.
“You are glaring at people.”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are,” Mirabel insisted. “You are giving a cold, hard stare.”
“You are being ridiculous.”
In answer to that charge, Mirabel went away in a huff.
But the exchange did make it clear to Thea that she was not fit company. She and Mirabel never argued. She excused herself and retired to her room, aware as she climbed the stairs that, yes, she was a bit tipsy—and she missed her sons. They kept her grounded.
Of course, wine made one maudlin. As she wandered toward her room, she wondered if alone was how she would always be. She didn’t regret it. She was happier alone than in her marriage, but still . . . didn’t life have more to offer?
“Apparently not,” Thea murmured to no one in particular. She didn’t wait for a maid but undressed herself, not bothering to braid her hair as was her custom, and climbed into bed.
She was half asleep when there was a knock at the door.
Thea rolled over on her back, annoyed. “Yes?” she said, half expecting to hear Mirabel’s voice, probably on some mission to chastise her more.
“It’s Nessa, Mrs. Martin. I need to speak to you.”
Assuming the maid wanted to help her undress for the night, Thea said, “I am already in bed, Nessa. That’s fine.”
“I need to speak to you.”
The hushed urgency in the maid’s voice penetrated Thea’s wine drowsiness. She came up on her elbows. “Come in.”
The door opened, letting in light from the hallway’s lamps. Nessa hurried to Thea’s bedside and knelt. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said, her voice low, as if she was afraid of being overheard, “but there is something afoot that you should know.”
“What is it?”
“Lady Lila’s maid has become fast friends with one of the footmen. He told me she was bragging not five minutes ago that Lady Lila is determined to marry Lord Lyon.”
This was not news. “And?” Thea asked.
“She’s going to his bedroom this night and place herself in his bed. When Lord Lyon comes up to bed, her father will enter the room and accuse him of taking advantage of his daughter. Lord Lyon will have no choice but to marry her.”
“What of his valet?” Thea asked.
“He didn’t bring one. He’s been using one of the house servants. The maid said they’ve bribed him to make himself scarce while this all takes place.”
“Not on my watch she won’t,” Thea said, anger bringing her wide awake. She jumped out of bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder and grabbing her dressing gown.
“What are you going to do?” Nessa asked.
“I’m going to toss that little hussy out of his room,” Thea answered. “And then I am throwing both her and her conniving father out of Lady Palmer’s house. You might wish to distance yourself from this,” she advised Nessa as she went marching out the door. “It will become ugly.”