Page 78 of Cora
“We shall muddle through, just as you and Father did. I believe he has been missing your company as you tried to commandeer Cora’s schedule.” He kissed her forehead. “Go home, Mum. Father needs you, and I need to get back to my wife.”
“I shall see myself out. I can see I have interrupted you.”
“Thank you.”
Gideon crawled into the bed next to Cora’s sleeping form. The drapes were drawn against the sunny day outside. She didn’t rouse as he curled around her body, tucking her close.
“How is your mother?” she mumbled, still mostly asleep.
“She’ll survive.” He yawned. “Martha sends her love.”
Cora huffed a laugh and snuggled closer to him.
EPILOGUE
In the weeks that followed, Cora found herself in high demand among Society’s brightest stars. Her gambit had paid off in unexpected ways. Everyone loved a joke, and she had made a grand one. She had also removed the sting from the one event in her past that people could point to as a flaw.
For years, she had allowed that disaster to haunt her. Now, she was free of it forever.
The woman who had once been an outsider was now the darling of theton.
Across the room, Gideon raised a champagne flute in salute. She was only taking lemonade. The mere scent of champagne made her queasy. There would be no autumn Season for Cora, but it didn’t matter. Her hand fell to her slightly rounded stomach. By the time her pregnancy was advanced enough to be visible beneath a cleverly-cut gown, the spring Season would be over and she would retreat to the countryside.
Going forward, she planned to return to London for only a few months out of the year to enjoy the theatre, opera, arts, and attend parties where she could actually talk to Honey and Isabelle without anyone caring about status. She fully intended to spend most of her time at the new country estate where she and Gideon planned raise their children.
The only thing she was going to miss were her frequent visits with Honey. They had reconciled, and Cora had dutifully fed the rumor to her friend about Bella being safe, though she felt terrible about using Honey’s penchant for gossip.
She couldn’t help noticing that her friend’s vibrant personality and usually incessant chatter were subdued of late. There was no avoiding the fact that Miss Caldwell wasn’t looking as much forward to these changes as Cora was.
She seemed a bit lost.
Determined to do something to rectify the situation—she couldn’t help but meddle while she could still do something to help—Cora caught her friend’s arm.
“How are you getting on with Miss Kingston?”
Honey shrugged listlessly. “She talks to me. Mostly about mathematics, or arcane subjects like land management. Despite her penchant for dull conversation, Miss Kingston sparkles enough to attract every eligible bachelor.” Her expression darkened. “She has so many suitors she can hardly choose. Prince Leopold is said to be considering an offer.”
“You don’t want that man,” she said instantly.
“Why wouldn’t I want a prince?” Honey asked indignantly. She deployed her fan, the breeze playing with a strand of her hair. “Not that I’d ever attract a man like him.”
Her friend was jealous, Cora realized with a jolt of surprise. Honey had never had an envious bone in her body, but as she eyed the cluster of men caging Isabelle’s slight form, with a hunted look on her lovely features, there was an unmistakable sour twist to Honey’s lips.
Poor Honora. Eight Seasons in, she was all but invisible to the men of theton. At this point, she was in danger of finding herself relegated to the hinterlands to live out her spinsterhood. Some women would welcome being left to their own devices, but Honey thrived on social interaction. It couldn’t be easy to watch a debutante of scandalous origins arrive on the scene and effortlessly capture so much attention.
“Honey.”
Her friend’s gaze cut to Cora’s.
“You are a treasure. You talk, but you’re the best listener I have ever met, too.” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “One day, you are going to meet a man who sees you for the gem you are, and he will adore the ground you walk on.”
Honey gave a sad little sigh. “I wish I believed that, Cor.”
“Isabelle cannot marry them all,” Cora whispered with a wink. Honey laughed genuinely, not at all the false one she so often used in public.
“Why shouldn’t we all have five or six husbands at once?” Honey murmured.
“Alas, we are stuck having to take them one at a time.” Cora feigned sorrow.
