What a novel occurrence. A sense of humor that she had thought long dead was resurrected, and she replied with a hint of amusement, “Indeed, you are right, my dear, but you see, Almack’s is considered almost a shrine, an old revered meeting place for society. Though the rooms aren’t as elegant as one could wish, we hope that you won’t quite disdain it, and turn your attention rather to the people you will meet here.”
Kate, who was quite unaware of the terrifying rule over society held by Mrs. Drummond Burrell, decided after a brief moment of disappointment that the lady was but another supporter of the earl’s. Thus she did not unbend and flush to the roots of her hair at her rudeness, as those present expected. Rather, she turned and gazed briefly, with a distinct air of boredom, around the room. Very slowly, she raised incredulous eyebrows, turned back to the lady, and said, “Indeed, ma’am, I suppose that you could call this place a shrine. Or perhaps a relic would be more fitting. It appears that many of the people also fit that category.”
She would have said more, but she chanced from the corner of her eye to see Lady Bellingham’s face. She looked ready to collapse, her face as red as the ruby on her right hand. She didn’t want her own social ostracism to descend on the hapless Lady Bellingham. Thus she merely stared with complete indifference at the two patronesses, shrugged carelessly, and turned away.
16
Mrs. Drummond Burrell found herself vastly entertained by this unconventional girl, though perhaps “unconventional” was a bit too tame a word for her. She herself had just been blatantly insulted, as had many of the other ladies and gentlemen present. But she couldn’t bring herself to dash down the girl. She smiled, making the Countess Lieven, the silly woman, gasp with surprise. She said to Kate in a not unkind voice, “Stay for a moment and converse with me, my dear. The earl will, I’m certain, not begrudge me your company for a few moments.”
Julien wanted to laugh aloud at the look of utter bewilderment on her face but managed to bow deeply and say easily, “Miss Brandon finds herself honored, ma’am. I gladly relinquish her to you.”
“My dear St. Clair, I am quite certain that you don’t relinquish your betrothed willingly, but five minutes with her vastly interesting and unpredictable company shouldn’t leave you quite downcast.”
Julien met Mrs. Drummond Burrell’s eyes with a distinct gleam in his own, turned to Lady Bellingham, who stood with her mouth unbecomingly open. “Come, ma’am, we will leave Katharine and refresh ourselves with a glass of orgeat.”
Lady Bellingham promptly thrust her arm through his. It was she who bore him off.
Kate felt completely at sea. It didn’t seem possible that she’d not managed to disgrace herself. She was being asked to enjoy a civilized conversation with a forbidding lady whom she had grossly insulted. It was impossible, but it had happened. She’d been done in, and she had no idea how it had come about. Defeated, she dropped her cold disdain and seated herself gracefully in the chair next to Mrs. Drummond Burrell. As she felt no fear of the lady, she spoke openly and, had she but realized it, quite charmingly. She noticed the look of awe on the Countess Lieven’s face, but not understanding, she dismissed it and gave her full attention to the questions of Mrs. Drummond Burrell.
It was like a dousing of cold water when Mrs. Drummond Burrell remarked, “The St. Clair emeralds look as if they had been made especially for you, my dear. They always reminded me of heavy green stones on Caroline’s unprepossessing neck. Caroline is, of course, to be your mother-in-law, the late earl’s wife,” she added, turning back to Kate. She didn’t notice that Miss Brandon’s color had mounted, and continued to enthusiastically enumerate the shortcomings of the dowager countess of March, a weak ninny she’d always despised.
It was just as well that Mrs. Drummond Burrell didn’t expect any interruptions in her monologue, for Kate was so furious at the earl’s latest underhanded maneuver that it took all the control she could muster to cloak her anger from the patronesses. How very devious of Lady Bellingham to conveniently forget to mention that the emeralds belonged to the earl. She looked down at her reticule, wishing it was a club.
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