Page 50 of Forgery, Love, and Other Lies
The dowager sat with her back to them near the fireplace, but she bounced to her feet and rushed to them, arms stretched wide and welcoming when the butler announced their arrival.
“My darlings,” she crooned, wrapping both arms around them for a bone crushing hug. Where did a woman of sixty or more years obtain such strength? She stepped away, folded her hands before her, and beamed at them. “I knew it was you together last night. It was, wasn’t it? Oh, do say I guessed right. No”—she lifted up a hand to stay speech Zander had no intention of providing—“you need say nothing at all. The mere fact you showed up together says it for you.” She sighed, a long, delighted sort of sound. “You’ve found one another and fallen in love. I have wondered, often, I must confess, if I should introduce the two of you. Both so pretty and young, so talented and clever. A perfect match really. Iampleased, though I wish I could have brought you together myself.”
Zander looked at Fiona, who looked at him. Her red-cheeked expression clearly said,Do you have any clue what she’s going on about?He shrugged.No clue, he tried to communicate without speech
“We’re, um, not together. That is, we’ve not fallen in love,” Fiona said.
The dowager laughed. “That’s not what that steamy and scandalous exhibition in the hallway at Currington’s suggested. No, my dear, you won’t be able to fool me, though you fool the rest of London.” She winked.
Zander turned back to Lady Balantine, smoothing out the frustration and impatience coursing through him. “My lady, will you please slow down? No. We must speak clear sense for a short while.” He lightly settled an arm around her shoulder and led her back to her chair. “Let us be methodical about this. I’ll ask questions, and you answer them. Yes?”
The dowager sat with a chuckle. “Yes, if you insist. Though everything seems perfectly clear to me.”
Fiona, who had been stuck in the doorway, shook herself loose and ran across the room, her arms waving wildly. “Clear? You’ve been missing! I feared you dead, and here you are, happy and whole—thank God—and going on about me and Lysander being in love, as if love mattered in the face of complete and utter ruination. You’ve no idea the tales I’ve been spinning of my own demise. My imagination knows no bounds, and—”
“Darling Fiona,” the dowager drawled, “do sit. You do not wish to start foaming at the mouth. How unladylike. And in front of your suitor?” She shivered. “And I’ve not been missing! I’ve known where I have been my whole life.”
Fiona did sit, dropping with a thud into a nearby chair.
“Now,” Lady Balantine said, “why in heaven did you think me dead?”
Zander inhaled deeply. He needed to wrench control of the scene from these two. “May I ask my questions and give this drama a semblance of order?”
The dowager blinked. “As you wish, darling. Shall I ring for tea now that everyone’s arrived?” She clapped her hands. “Oh, I had no expectation you would bring Miss Fiona, Lysander, but I’m so pleased you did. It confirms everything.”
“You were dead!” Fiona exploded.
“We only feared she would be,” Zander corrected.
Fiona dropped her face to her hands with a groan.
“I’m not dead,” the dowager said with a grin. “That makes it better, yes? Aren’t you pleased, my loves?” Her confidence wavered a bit, as if she was only beginning to realize that her plans were not going accordingly.
What were her plans?
“Why did you invite me here?” Zander asked.
Lady Balantine’s grin returned in full brightness and confidence. “I wished to speak with you last night. I was certain it was you I saw in the hallway with the woman.” She smirked at Fiona. “I could not be sure it was Fiona. Why would she be at such an event, after all. But it had the look of her, and that mask… such an absolute brilliant riot. Only one mind could create it, one set of hands craft it. Brava, Fiona. I adored it. Can I have it?”
“Ye-es?” Fiona said.
The dowager rolled on. “Excellent. Most excellent.”
“Why did you run from me?” Zander demanded.
“Oh, that. I didn’t know if you’d recognized me, and if not, I didn’t want to risk being recognized. I was not supposed to be there, after all.” Her lips pursed into a pout. “I’m not allowed to buy anything else. Herbert dislikes it so. Says art is a waste of good blunt and will have nothing to do with it. And I dare not upset him in this because we’ve just reconciled, of course, and—”
“Herbert?” Zander pinched the bridge of his nose. “And who is that?”
The pout disappeared. “My son! We’ve never been close before, but he showed up last year to get to know me better. He has a new baby and realized he wanted me near, part of the family. Never understood why he shunned me to begin with, but that’s all in the past now. No hard feelings. I’ve just returned, actually, from his country seat. I’ve been helping his wife with the babes. They have a difficult time, it seems, poor dears, keeping a nanny about. At their wits’ ends, they were. Until me.”
Fiona held up a hand, palm flat, stopping the monologue. “You’ve been in the country?”
“Yes. Derbyshire.”
“For how long?” Fiona asked.
“Hmm.” Lady Balantine tapped her lip and considered the ceiling, as if she kept an almanac there. “Oh, almost a year, I think. Yes. I remember it now. It was rainy, and the leaves on the street were green. A summer shower when Herbert came home and swept me away. You shouldseelittle Annie. The new baby, though she’s a bit older than a year now. Cheeks like apples and hair so yellow it’s almost white. And the elder one, Johnny, he’s a perfect copy of his father.” She chuckled, glanced at Fiona. “Almost as if you’d painted him from the original, darling. Oh!” She popped a hand over her mouth, her gaze flicking to Zander. She plied her hand away from her mouth just enough to mouth to Fiona, “Does he know? About the F-O-R-G—”
