by Golden Angel
"Viscountess," he said with a bow.
Somehow it didn't surprise Irene that, even though he was working in Lady Grace's house where she doubted her own name was ever spoken, that he knew of her marriage. Servants gossip, of course, the most reliable network of gossip that existed.
"Is Lady Brooke at home?" she asked, smiling warmly at him.
For the first time since knowing him, she saw Peters hesitate. "The lady is still in residence although she is scheduled to go out this afternoon, but... may I inquire as to the nature of your visit?"
Irene smiled, tilting her head. "Why Peters, that almost bold for you. I'd just like to speak to Lady Brooke."
"I hesitate to inquire further, my lady," Peters said, every inch of his body managing to give off the impression of being both deferential and apologetic, yet protective. "Lady Brooke has had several visitors at times who wanted nothing more than to speak with her, but their visits were rather distressing to her ladyship."
Despite herself, despite knowing that, in many ways, Lady Grace deserved to be distressed for her behavior and treatment of Alex, Irene couldn't help but feel a surge of sympathy for the woman. It was one thing for her to be cut in public or be excluded from a guest list, but to hound the woman in her own home just seemed to cross a line. Yet it didn’t surprise her that there were those among the ton who would do so.
Irene shook her head.
"Nothing distressing, I promise, Peters," she said, looking up earnestly at the man she'd known since she was a child, when he was a footman on the Brooke estate. A man who’d, more than once, help her sneak a pastry or tart from the kitchen. "In fact, I'm hoping to relieve some distress that I may have caused her."
Peters studied her, as if trying to decide on her sincerity, and she realized that if he thought she was misleading him, she wouldn’t make it through the doorway. In fact, if he hadn’t known her for so very long, that very well might have been the case.
"Very well then, my lady, please come in."
"I didn't realize you were working for Lady Brooke," Irene said, hoping that Peters might give her some more information. Circumspection was part of his job, but perhaps he might give her a hint as to his change in loyalties.
"The lady needed someone to watch over her," Peters said, his expression blank, but his voice sounded sympathetic towards his mistress' position in Society. Considering his devotion to the Brooke family, Irene found it rather curious that he would choose to work for a woman who had betrayed Alex. Then again, perhaps his devotion extended to the entire family, including Alex’s wife whether she was estranged or not, or perhaps he had seen something while working for Alex that caused him to choose Lady Grace over the Brooke family.
The idea was not a comfortable one for Irene, because it made her wonder what she didn't know about her childhood friend and his estranged wife.
Peters showed her to a beautifully decorated drawing room before retreating to see if Lady Grace might have time to see her before going out. Irene couldn't help but wonder where the other woman was going. During her own social rounds they'd never been at the same event. Then again, Irene was accepted by the high sticklers of Society and Grace certainly wasn't, so it really wasn't that surprising that they didn't run in the same circles.
Grace wouldn't be welcome there.
Even if Irene wasn't enamored of the social scene, at least she never feared being turned away from someone’s home. No one turned up their nose at her or whispered behind her back or refused to acknowledge her. In fact, many of the women seemed to be envious and slightly in awe of her, since it was a well-known fact that her husband was a former rake, their marriage was arranged, and yet he was - to all observers - quite reformed. Sometimes Irene was a bit in awe of herself. Lady Grace wouldn’t even have the protection of Lord Brooke’s name.
Although it did beg the question why she was received at all, in any homes.
The door opened again and Lady Grace swept in, beautiful and regal as ever. Irene had her usual reaction of feeling inferior in the face of such striking good looks, but then again, what had her looks gotten Lady Grace? She was on the edge of being an outcast, living alone, and her husband was publically unfaithful to her – as she was to him. Whereas Irene not only had a wonderful husband, she also has his devotion and the respect of the ton.
It was impossible not to feel just the slightest bit of pity, although she doubted Lady Grace would appreciate such an emotion on her behalf.
Standing, Irene nodded her head in greeting at the other woman. "Lady Brooke."
Crystal blue eyes, enhanced by the ice blue dress she was wearing, blinked in surprise. She was absolutely stunning in that light colored dress, which made her cheeks look even paler and her hair even darker; a vision of ice and beauty. It was the very first time in Irene's life that she'd called Lady Grace by her proper title.
"Viscountess."
Had that brittle wariness been there in the lady's manner before? Was it new, or was it just that Irene was finally noticing someone other than herself? Perhaps it was all her new thoughts about the woman that made her more attuned to her emotional state.
Despite their past, despite their recent contentremps, Lady Grace's manner seemed hesitant but civil. Rather like a puppy who was hoping to be petted, but had no reason to expect anything other than a kick. Irene felt another wave of shame and sympathy, and was shocked at her own reaction. Had she never seen Lady Grace clearly before, through the bias of her own determination to have Alex and to be angry at Lady Grace’s treatment of him, or was this a result of Lady Grace's time in town and her position in Society? Irene had the unsettling feeling that it was more likely the former. She’d always taken Lady Grace’s haughty ways at face value and poured dislike upon the woman for them. Now she was starting to see the other woman in a new light and it was making her notice things that she hadn’t before.
Even more than before, Irene was determined to make things right. The woman in front of her may have betrayed her marriage vows, but Irene was starting to realize she couldn't possibly know the whole story. What kept Lady Grace going, despite the disapprobation of Society? What made this wary, imperious woman continue on her course when all she had to do to be welcomed back into Society was act the part she'd been given to play? Why didn’t she just go to Alex and give him an heir, so that she could resume her currently life as normal afterwards?
And why had Irene never wondered these things before?
Perhaps she was finally growing up.
Her next move was part of that. Irene drew a deep breath, feeling humbled and ashamed, and yet also feeling a small sense of relief.
"I've come to apologize."
Another one of those heavy blinks, a tilt of her head, and that same wariness. Silence descended and after a moment, Irene realized that Lady Grace might not know how to respond. After all, Irene hadn't been very specific.
"My behavior the other evening was deplorable. I'm very sorry for what I did to your dress and I hope you believe me when I say I didn't intend... well, I didn't intend any of what happened." She drew in anther breath for courage as Lady Grace continued to stare silently at her, frozen in place. Irene had no idea how the other woman was taking her apology, but she was determined to finish it. "Even more so, I need to apologize for my behavior over the years. I was more than immature in my manner towards you after you married Alex, I was insulting and presumptuous. I understand now how upsetting that must have been for you, and you didn’t deserve my scorn or my snide remarks."
Irene realized that Lady Grace's blinking was so pronounced because of the long, heavy lashes that ringed those bright blue eyes. She shifted uncomfortably, having run out of things to say. The silence in the room was deafening.
"Would you like to sit down?"
Now it was Irene's turn to blink in confusion. "Pardon?"
"Would you like to sit down? I can ring a maid for tea." The offer was made somewhat tentatively, but it sounded sincere.
She only hesitated for a moment. "That would be lovely, thank you."
Staying for tea hadn't been in her original plan, but it seemed rude not to take Lady Grace up on the invitation. Besides which, the entire point of being here was to establish more cordial relations, and what could be more cordial than enjoying a cup of tea together? And with her newfound insights, Irene realized she was incredibly curious what a conversation with her ladyship might reveal.
Lady Grace rang for the tea and then waved to Irene to take a seat again. Lowering herself back onto the couch, Irene watched as Lad Grace sat across from her in a delicately carved chair. The easy, graceful manner in which she settled her skirts was something to be envied. "I must admit, when Peters told me you were here... this was not what I expected."
"I can only imagine," Irene said, smiling somewhat ruefully. How would she have reacted if Lady Grace had one day shown up on her own doorstep? What would she have thought? Nothing good, certainly.
"When you said you wanted to apologize," Lady Grace continued, as if Irene hadn't spoken, "I thought that you might be trying to mend fences because of Eleanor. But that was a rather descriptive and sincere sounding apology."
"Because I mean it," Irene said earnestly. She felt slightly taken aback by Lady Grace's bluntness, but hadn't Irene been just as blunt in the past? And she could understand the lady's suspicions. Perhaps it was best to speak bluntly at this point, Irene certainly preferred that over speaking sideways around an issue. She respected that Lady Grace was still unsure of Irene’s motivations, and she did want lady Grace to know that her apology was sincere, rather than taking it at face value and always wondering. "After marrying Hugh... well, let's say I've grown up a bit. At least, I hope I have. And I see quite a few things in a different light than I did before. Especially when it comes to the difference between a friendship between a man and a woman and the relationship between a man and his wife."
"Ah yes... Hugh, the entirely reformed rake despite the fact that his marriage was arranged and not a love match," Grace said, her voice light and almost mocking.
For a moment Irene bristled, but then she realized that Grace wasn't even looking at her. Those bright blue eyes were unfocused as if peering inward, as if the comment had been directed more at herself than at Irene. Irene suddenly realized that Alex had a reputation as a rake, yet obviously he wasn't reformed.
Irene had always taken Alex's word that Grace had separated from him without provocation, that he'd intended to be a good and faithful husband to her, but something about Grace's demeanor made her wonder... The woman sounded almost envious of Irene’s situation. The brittleness was back. As was more than a hint of bitterness.
And Irene didn't know what to say in response.
Fortunately the maid arrived with the tea then, and they were able to take refuge in the meaningless social chatter that the tea service made possible. It was soothing, balancing. The appropriate topics were far away from Alex or Hugh.
"Where will you be going when the Season ends?" Lady Grace asked, perfectly cordial and poised. Irene wondered if she would ever be able to perfect that kind of social facade, the bland face that covered all manner of anxieties. She imagined that Lady Grace must have had a lot of practice, in a manner that Irene would prefer not to experience. "Hugh must be eager to return to Westingdon."
"Eventually," Irene said, brightening as she remembered that they were leaving the Season early. "Next week we leave for Bath to attend Spencer's wedding."
Grace's eyes widened, her lips curving in an obviously unanticipated smile and then she threw back her head and laughed. It was a light, bright, tinkling laugh, one that wiped away her cynicism and made her look like a young girl. She absolutely chortled, and Irene watched fascinated. The reaction was so genuine, so unanticipated, and she couldn't help but grin in response. Hugh's reaction had been similar. Her smile faded a bit. How well did Lady Grace know Spencer? Had he been one of her lovers at some point?
That would not go over well with Alex at all…
"Oh dear... and the last of them falls," Lady Grace said, still giggling a bit as she composed herself. "I should have made a bet with someone that they'd all go down in the same Season, they always did everything else together until Wesley went to India."
Now Irene's smile returned to full force. It was rather amusing that the three friends were all married during the same Season. How often did such an occurrence happen? Especially when all three had reputations as firmly entrenched bachelors? She knew that Edwin and Eleanor's wedding had been considered a surprise to many, even if Hugh’s wasn’t, and that Spencer's was apparently even more so going by Hugh and Lady Grace’s reactions.
"The three of them," Lady Grace said, shaking her head, now fully composed again although her eyes were still sparkling. She looked much less like an ice princess now and Irene suddenly wondered if this was the side of her that Eleanor normally saw, the side the Hugh remembered. Was this, perhaps, the Lady Grace that Alex had met and proposed to? "And who is Spencer marrying? The last I heard he was running from Lord Windham, who was not nearly as accommodating as Lady Windham led him to believe."
The gossip had gone round the ton rather quickly, to the amusement of many. Of course, the only one damaged by it was Lady Windham, who had been hurried from the capital by her angered husband. Rumor had it he planned to keep her there until she was with child again, as she so obviously needed something to occupy her time. Still, it was the Lady’s own fault for being indiscreet. Wesley had done the proper thing, which was why Irene had been so convinced that, however he’d become engaged, it had been through the proper channels. That was just the kind of gentleman he was, no matter what Hugh had implied.
"His ward, a Miss Cynthia Bryant."
A little twist of those perfect pink lips made Lady Grace look almost as though she was sneering. "Another love match, I suppose," she drawled, sounding rather derisive. “How predictable.”
This time Irene wasn't fooled at all though. She was becoming more and more convinced that, like her blank social mask, Lady Grace's cynicism, sarcasm and sneering remarks often covered her true feelings. It didn't make Irene like her, but she did wonder if buried under all that negativity might be a woman that was quite likeable. After all, Eleanor was very sweet and friendly, and she and Lady Grace had been friends for years, and Irene had gotten a glimpse of a woman that she thought was very likeable for just a few moments. There must be some reason for Lady Grace’s usual airs.
"The letter didn't say," Irene said. Then, hoping to get the conversation back to a more pleasant tone and away from Grace’s negativity: "Hugh said he thinks Spencer must have compromised her."
That got another smile, although it was still a bit cynical. “That would do it. It must irk him considerably to be caught in the parson’s trap. I do hope the poor thing is up to the challenge of being married to him.”
“She certainly sounds like a bit of a challenge, herself,” Irene said, which then led to an explanation of the previous letters sent by the Countess to her son. Grace derived quite a bit of amusement from the conversation and, subsequently, became quite natural and almost friendly in Irene’s company. They passed a surprisingly pleasant afternoon, during which Grace ended up staying in with her, and by the time Irene left, she wondered if they might even be becoming friends.
Chapter 13
One week before her wedding and since the night her erstwhile fiancé had proposed, and Cynthia hadn’t been so much as kissed!
Well that wasn’t entirely true. The Earl had kissed her hand several times. And once he’d kissed her cheek. But nothing more. It was frustrating. Bewildering.
Downright infuriating.
He was a rake, this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be happening between them! She felt as though she’d been given a glimpse of heaven only to have it snatched away from her. Suddenly the Earl was being as much stuffy starched shirt as when she’d first met him, with absolutely no bending.
A
nd she didn't have time to make trouble and earn another spanking and some more alone time with him; the Countess was keeping her so busy with dress fittings, shopping for accessories and a trousseau, writing out invitations, planning the meal, and when Cynthia did have a moment to herself it was because she was visiting Eleanor. For once, she was too exhausted to make trouble. Besides, she didn’t really want another spanking from him, because who knew if he would kiss her afterwards again?
Still.
If this was the way her marriage was going to be, she was no longer very excited about it.
“He hasn’t been exciting at all,” she said to Eleanor, rather aggrieved. “I thought he’d be doing all the things rakes do, whisking me away to dark corners, kissing me senseless and trying to get under my skirts. But all he does is stare at me. And he’s never in the same room as me unless his mother is there!”
Eleanor laughed. Cynthia was glad to see that she’d managed to cheer her friend up, even if it was at her own expense. When she’d first arrived to visit with Eleanor, the other woman had been looking rather wane. She had some dark shadows under her eyes and seemed a bit listless. But she’d insisted that she was fine, when Cynthia asked, and sitting on a chaise and watching Cynthia pace and vent seemed to have instilled some life back into her.
“Honestly, I’m not that surprised,” Eleanor said, giggling a bit as Cynthia pulled a wry face. “He did warn you that he wasn’t going to thoroughly ruin you until after you’re wed.”
“Yes I know,” she responded grumpily. Placing her hands on her hips she glared into the air. “But couldn’t we do what we’ve already done? I rather liked that.”
“Even the spanking part.”
Cynthia shrugged. “If that’s what it takes…”