Chapter 7
Lady Brookshire’s gardens were splendid on most days, but on the day of her garden party, they were exquisite.
Evelina gazed admiringly at the white archway, covered with purple wisteria and green drapery.
The cobblestone pathway was lined by rosebushes in full bloom.
Elegant lords and ladies were seated together beneath white pavilions, filled with tables laden with delicacies and glasses of lemonade.
A pleasant breeze swept through the air, sending the fronds of a weeping willow tree flowing across the ground.
The light, fluttering notes of a violin swept through the laughter and conversation.
Evelina paused at the garden entrance, waiting for Lady Brookshire to greet them.
Beside Evelina, her sister Theodora was whispering something to their mother, Lady Diana Dowell.
By chance, their mother was more infamous than Evelina and Theodora both.
She had recently separated from their father, Lord Dowell, and this garden party would be her first outing in society since that fateful day.
“Oh, Diana!” exclaimed Lady Brookshire.
Evelina’s muscles instinctively tensed. She realized that she was preparing herself to counter any insults flung unfairly toward her mother.
“Eleanor,” Evelina’s mother said. “It has been so long.”
“Indeed,” Lady Brookshire said. “You look quite well.”
Evelina cast a quick glance at her mother, noting with pleasure that the observation was true.
Her mother had looked so pale and worn during the last days of her marriage, while the solicitors argued tirelessly with one another.
After the divorce had settled, Evelina’s mother had seemed to regain her vitality.
A new brightness came to her green eyes, and she had resembled something of her old self.
She had begun dressing in bright colors, scarlets and greens and golds.
“Bath did marvelous things for my health,” Evelina’s mother said.
In truth, Evelina suspected that her mother’s divorce had done more for her health than the spas, but she doubted any of them were so brazen as to say that in polite company.
“And the Duchess of Hawthorne,” Lady Brookshire said, turning her attention to Theodora. “Congratulations on your marriage, Your Grace.”
Theodora smiled. “Thank you.”
Theodora had been wed to Alexander, the Duke of Hawthorne, for a little over a year.
Alexander was a good man by all accounts.
He was generous and quick-witted, and most importantly, he loved Theodora.
And she loved him. Evelina smiled at the dreamy look that crossed her face whenever she spoke of her husband.
“And Lady Thornwall.”
Evelina smiled. “We were pleased to receive your invitation, my lady. Your garden is simply lovely.”
“Thank you,” Lady Brookshire said. “I do take great pride in my roses. Please, enjoy yourselves.”
“Thank you,” Evelina’s mother said.
The three continued along the path. Evelina noted with a wince that some of the conversations died at their approach. Others quieted to whispers so low that Evelina could not discern the individual words.
“There is Alexander,” said Theodora.
Theodora dropped their mother’s arm and hurried to Alexander. He and Lady Rosalind stood beside one another, deep in conversation with three ladies. Hearing Theodora’s cry, Alexander turned his head. He grinned broadly.
“My beautiful wife,” Alexander said.
“My charming husband,” Theodora said.
“We were just discussing your club, Evelina,” Alexander said.
Evelina glanced at the three ladies, who politely excused themselves with murmured farewells and curtsies. “If you were trying to gather members for the Corset Chronicles, I fear you have failed,” Evelina said. “Once glance at me, and the ladies have fled.”
She had the terrible fear those ladies might be speaking ill of her mother.
While men were often unkind to women, Evelina knew that ladies were also capable of great cruelty.
It was not entirely their fault. For most women, marriage was their only chance to live happy, secure lives, and any little thing might ruin a lady’s prospects.
“I suppose that is for the best,” Alexander said, winking. “I believe you would have found them too dull for your tastes. I know well the manner of company that you prefer to keep.”
“They were good conversationalists,” said Lady Rosalind.
“Hardly,” Alexander said. “But I—well—”
Theodora shook her head. “You are hopeless, my dearest!” she exclaimed, placing a comforting hand on Lady Rosalind’s sleeve. “If you wish to converse among the ton, you will find my guidance far more useful than his. We shall approach the matter like scientists!”
Lady Rosalind’s eyes widened, as if she was a little alarmed by the prospect.
If Theodora noticed her sister-in-law’s reaction, she chose to ignore it.
The pair strode along the path and toward the pavilion.
Alexander shook his head, smiling wryly after his wife.
“You have been abandoned, Your Grace,” Evelina teased.
“So it seems,” Alexander said, laughing. “I am becoming rather accustomed to chasing after her.”
“You had best hurry,” Evelina said. “She is getting away from you.”
“So she is,” Alexander said, bowing deeply. “Ladies.”
Alexander quickened his pace, easily overtaking Theodora and Lady Rosalind.
A little fluttering sensation spread through Evelina’s chest. Her sister was so very happy with this man, and he was so undeniably perfect for her.
If anyone in the world was capable of making someone believe in love, it was the two of them.
“I am so proud of you both,” Evelina’s mother said.
Evelina blinked and glanced at her formidable mother. Like Evelina and Theodora, their mother had thick, auburn hair. Age had left hers threaded with strands of white.
“I am blessed and lucky to have had my daughters,” her mother continued, eyeing Evelina meaningfully. “Being a mother has been one of the great joys of my life.”
A lump rose in Evelina’s throat, and a startled laugh tore from her. “Did Theodora tell you?”
“She did.”
Evelina chuckled, a little anxious. “I suppose you are rather scandalized.”
Her mother shook her head. “When it comes to you, very little scandalizes me.”
“I do not try to scandalize,” Evelina said, although that was only partly true.
It was entirely fair to say that she did receive a little pleasure from being scandalous.
“I was not asking you to justify yourself to me,” her mother said. “Your plan is unconventional; that is true. However, mine was not. I did what most ladies do—married young and stayed married.”
“Until your husband betrayed you,” Evelina said quietly.
“And nearly ruined Theo’s life,” her mother added. “I could forget unkindness paid to me, but never to my daughter.”
“You are stronger than many,” Evelina said, thinking that her mother had a quiet strength about her. After divorcing, many ladies would not dare venture into high society again, but her brave mother resisted the urge to flee.
“I found my strength becoming a mother. As will you.”
A swell of affection overcame Evelina, who had imagined that her mother would try to dissuade her from her outlandish plan.
Admittedly, her mother had only heard of Evelina’s initial plan, which involved marrying a lower-class man.
She did not know of the second plan, which was to conceive her child out of wedlock.
“I would remind you of one thing, though,” her mother said.
“While I would never tell you what you may or may not do, choosing to have a child with someone who is beneath you will make you a social pariah. If you have a marriage of convenience with an equal, however, you might still have your family and remain a respectable member of society. You must have some nice friends that—”
“I cannot trust gentlemen to remain nice,” Evelina interrupted. “You were married thirty years and still could not predict what your husband might do. I cannot risk that. As a married woman, I would have no assets or rights to my own children.”
That was why she ought not to wed at all, but the previous night’s excursion had proven that she was not yet prepared to engage in a congress with a man. Evelina forced away the memory of dark, piercing eyes and sinfully full lips.
“What if their father decided to take them from me? I would be helpless,” Evelina said. “Practically, it would be best to have a child and remain a dowager countess.”
Her mother inhaled sharply, eyes widening.
“But if I cannot do that,” Evelina continued, “I must find a man who is inferior to me. Then, I will be able to use my position to have some influence, and I will have a clever lawyer negotiate the precise terms of my marriage.”
Her mother slowly nodded. “I had no doubt that you had considered the matter carefully,” she said. “I suppose there is some reason that you do not wish to adopt a child? That must have occurred to you.”
“It did,” Evelina agreed. “And I just…I want the experience of having a baby, too. I want to feel a child growing within me and to know that I have made that child myself. What a wondrous feeling I imagine that is!”
“Well,” her mother said. “I cannot be too surprised. You have always been so fiercely independent.”
Evelina nodded and bit her lip. For a few moments, neither she nor her mother spoke.
The only sound was the sweeping music of the orchestra and the laughter and conversations of happy couples.
She glanced at one couple, a young man and woman who stood a respectable distance away from one another.
Her blood roared in her ears as she remembered the way His Grace had gazed at her.
Evelina had the phantom sensation of his fingers brushing over her stomach, and her breath hitched.
“I am a little afraid,” she murmured.
“Of what?” her mother asked.
Evelina swallowed hard. “Of—of doing what is required to produce a child.”
Her mother sighed deeply. “I wish I had some comfort to offer. I felt similarly, but regrettably, my discomfort at—at that never faded. I imagine it might be different if you are with someone whom you love, though.”
Evelina nodded, but her stomach lurched. She would not be with someone whom she loved.
“You should speak to the other ladies in your club,” Evelina’s mother said. “Perhaps they can offer some insight that I cannot.”
That was entirely possible, but Evelina’s face grew hot just thinking about it.
Even though she was no stranger to scandalous topics, intercourse was something entirely different from suggesting that women were intellectually equal to men or that women ought to be allowed to divorce their husbands more easily.
And even if Evelina could make herself approach the subject with her friends, she would not have the words to express what she feared.
As His Grace had said, she could not even name the deed that she was thinking of.
“I shall think further upon the matter,” Evelina said, knowing that she would die of mortification if she confessed how frightened she was to her friends.
And could they even understand her? They were happy with their husbands and spoke of intimacy in fond, hushed tones and sly looks at one another.
The only member of the Corset Chronicles Club who had not experienced such intimacy and who might have fears like Evelina was Lady Rosalind, and that poor young miss would be only able to commiserate.
The song ended, and polite applause followed. Evelina let her attention wander over the small crowd, who had gathered to watch the orchestra. And then—
Her muscles tensed all at once, and it took an embarrassing amount of strength not to let her jaw drop.
It was he, the Duke of Rothbury. Evelina’s heart beat so madly that she feared it might burst from her chest. His Grace was surrounded by Lady Brookshire’s daughters, whose names Evelina could not quite recall.
The eldest tittered in laughter, and Evelina tore her eyes away from the man, something bitter curling inside her.
The Duke of Rothbury was not amusing in the least and certainly unworthy of laughter! If those ladies only knew how he had made a mockery of her the night before, they would…
They would be far more scandalized at her behavior than by his. Evelina shook her head, as if by doing so she might cast away all thoughts of him. That man had offered to marry her, as if she would be willing to wed a duke.
Evelina tried not to think about how much he had seemed to understand her plight or how she was just a little, irrationally tempted to accept his proposal.