There had been no formal announcement, of course, but none was needed. Society had its own very effective rumor mill, fully as efficient as that of any fishwife at Billingsgate market.
Eden’s hasty departure from Caldwick and Hartsmere, followed by her illness, had conspired to prevent her from refuting those assumptions. But once she appeared before her acquaintances and friends, she would have to do so. She dreaded that ordeal and the hurt it must cause. It did not matter that Lady Saville’s sponsorship assured Eden’s welcome back into Society. Such recognition was no longer Eden’s ambition, except where it affected her son.
Donal. She went to the door and turned the handle to open it. Just a crack. Just in case…
“Lady Eden? Is that you?”
Lady Saville stood before the door, her beringed hand raised to knock. Eden fell back, knowing that she had been found out.
“Oh, I am so delighted to see you up and about!” Lady Saville exclaimed. “Are you truly better? The color has returned to your cheeks! I had just come up to make sure that you… but what excellent timing, when our soiree has just started!”
Eden could not bring herself to feign an illness that had finally—and suspiciously—released its grip. She managed a smile.
“I am… somewhat better, Lady Saville,” she said. “It was kind of you to look in on me, but I fear that I am not in a fit state to attend your party.” She gestured at her dress. “I have scarcely been up—”
“Nonsense! Anyone with half an eye could see that you are recovered. Where is Adele? She is quite proficient in arranging hair. I understand that you did not arrive with a great many gowns. No matter, I shall contrive…” She lost herself in her own musings, oblivious to Eden’s wishes.
Blatant discourtesy to a hostess had never been one of Eden’s besetting sins, and it would take pointed rudeness to refuse Lady Saville now. She could not help her father or Donal by doing so. She resigned herself to waiting out the rest of the evening in company rather than alone with her fears and worries. Lord Bradwell’s message would reach her just as easily in the drawing room as it would in her own chamber.
And at last she’d lay the rumors about her “engagement” to rest.
“I will be happy to join you, Lady Saville,” she said.
“Rushborough will be delighted! Now, you must come with me, dear Lady Eden, while we look through my gowns to find the one most quickly altered. You are so thin, my dear! How fortunate that my abigail works wonders with her needle. She will do it in a trice…” Lady Saville took her arm and pulled her into the hall. The sounds of the festivities downstairs grew louder. Eden gritted her teeth and let herself be swept along in her hostess’s wake.
An hour later, she was sitting before Lady Saville’s dressing table, having her hair arranged while the older woman’s abigail made final adjustments to one of Lady Saville’s better gowns. Lady Saville was beyond generous, but she was also generously endowed in her proportions. The alterations had been significant, even on a modest but elegant gown of white satin that would not have been particularly flattering on its owner. Eden rose and was poked and prodded a few more times by the haughty abigail, who stepped back at last and pronounced the work finished.
“How charming you look, my dear Lady Eden,” exulted Lady Saville, clucking about Eden like a well-fed grouse. “You suit that gown so much better than I ever did. I am so glad that I chose it for you.” She clapped her hands. “It shall be just like a second coming out. Rushborough will be charmed!”
Lady Saville was sincere, good-humored, and impressionable. Her naïveté was almost comforting. But Eden remembered the last time she had been fitted for such a gown: on the eve of Lord Rushborough’s house party. And she well knew how that occasion had ended. What it had brought to an end.
Hartley.
Lady Saville clucked at her as she set out the jewelry she had insisted that Eden borrow, tasteful pearls to match the gown. Once the necklace and tiny earbobs were appropriately bestowed, she took Eden’s arm and led her grandly down the stairs to the great drawing room.