Page 16 of The Inconvenient Compromise
“Will we stay in London for the entire season?” She rather hoped they would not have to. A swift resolution to their current problems and a retreat to the country sounded wonderful to her. In fact, the idea of a remote Scottish estate far from her parents and far from all the mess of her former acquaintances as sounding better by the minute.
“Certainly for most of it. Of course, we cannot stay in a hotel for the entire season. It hardly fits with the image we wish to portray now. There are still houses to let for the season, though admittedly, they are few and far between. I’m certain with the aid of good friends, we will be able to find something suitable,” he replied as he ushered her through the crowded room. Then his head lifted, his gaze scanning the room. A smile spread over his face. “There they are. And it appears they have brought reinforcements.”
* * *
Lucian madea beeline through the crowd to the corner currently occupied by Lord and Lady Ralston and their companions for the evening, the Earl and Countess of Winburne.
As they closed the distance between themselves and the gathered group, he felt an awareness. Someone was watching them. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of Charlotte Farraday, Lady Bruxton, glaring at them from one of the settees positioned around the permitter of the room. She was holding court, as per her usual, with a bevy of sycophants gathered around her.
Turning away from her and her icy glare, he continued on toward the gathered allies. The closer they drew to them, the more hesitant Fiona’s steps became. Glancing over her shoulder at her, he offered one last assurance, “It will be fine. I promise.”
“You cannot promise that,” she protested. “No one can. But we will certainly do our best.”
“Fiona!”
They both looked up. The greeting had been called out by Penelope, Lady Ralston. It was accompanied by a warm smile and an enthusiastic wave. Perhaps it was only for show, but it was an effective one. Heads swiveled in their direction once more. First to Lady Ralston, then to himself and Fiona, and, finally, on to Lady Bruxton. Each of their reactions was measured and cataloged.
“You see?” He teased. “It will be fine. Who could have a warmer welcome than that?”
“Anyone can pretend, Lucian,” she replied sharply. “If you’ve spent any time at all in the presence of Lady Bruxton, it’s vital to one’s survival.”
* * *
Across the ballroom,Charlotte watched them with pure malice burning in her eyes. Fiona was wearing a gown in peacock blue, her abundance of hideous red hair piled high atop her head.
“Just look at them. No shame. None at all,” Lady Habersham mused.
“Wretched, horrible people,” Charlotte agreed. “They are only flaunting themselves now to hurt me. She must know how it will pain me to see her with my dear Lucian. And Lady Ralston is no better. Both of them have betrayed my friendship terribly… when I did so much for them.”
Lady Habersham clucked her tongue sympathetically. “You poor dear thing. I cannot believe they would be so cold!”
Realizing that she appeared more angry than hurt, Charlotte schooled her expression into a sorrowful one and then dabbed at her dry eyes as if dashing away tears. “I cannot stay. I must go leave. The humiliation is too much to bear. Will you make my excuses to the host and hostess?”
Lady Habersham patted her arm. “Of course I will. You go home and rest, dearest. I will see to it.”
Charlotte made her exit, not trying to hide the fact that she was leaving. The more upset she appeared, the more sympathetic people would be to her, after all. When she finally made it outside to her waiting carriage, she breathed a sigh of relief. Even feigned weakness was more than she could stand.
Aided by a footman, she climbed into an elegantly styled carriage and settled against the velvet upholstered seat. But in the dimness of the vehicle’s interior, she became aware that she was not alone.
“Do not light the lamps. I cannot afford to be seen.”
Charlotte felt a frisson of unease.Estelle.The young woman, terribly unattractive and not especially well connected, had been chosen as part of Charlotte’s cadre of minions the previous season. Her position had been secured solely on her willingness to be merciless and ruthless on Charlotte’s behalf. But even Charlotte was aware that the woman was quite insane.
“What are you doing here, Estelle? I thought you were… convalescing in Bath?” Charlotte demanded.
“Miss Weddington,” Estelle corrected sharply. “After all, we are not friends. Isn’t that what you said? Though I have committed crimes on your behalf, though I have burned every bridge that is open to me in all of England—all at your behest—we are not friends.”
“Of course, we are friends,” Charlotte said breezily and then laughed just a bit. “I was upset when I said otherwise. You know my temper is atrocious, Estelle. I simply had to calm myself to be reasonable.”
Estelle did not laugh in return. “What I know is that you made London a very unwelcoming place for me. I was ostracized by you—by everyone that had been so welcoming before. You promised I could have any husband I chose. That you would help me get them. Together, we decided on Ralston. Now he is married to that wretched Penelope Dennings, and that upstart, Isabella Stamford, is now the Countess of Kenworth! You have failed time and again to deliver on your promises of helping us to make good matches.”
“Penelope and Fiona have both made excellent matches,” Charlotte pointed out.
“To men you did not choose for them,” Estelle countered. “In the last month, I’ve been locked up in an asylum. Do you know what asylums are like,Lady Bruxton? They are cruel places that allow no privacy and no dignity—you become like an animal in such a place. Caged and feral.”
Charlotte swallowed convulsively, fear tightening her throat and making her mouth go dry as the desert. “Estelle, what can I do for you? I will help you in any way that you require.”
“I need a place to stay—to hide for a few days. I cannot go to my family because they will immediately send me back to the institution. Then I need money. I will start a new life somewhere. Perhaps in America. I will assume a new name, pass myself off as a widow.”
