He probably did, and Amber would do well to remember it.
“Let’s go to the theater,” she said abruptly. “My feet will be aching after everything this afternoon.”
Diana flashed her a sympathetic smile. “I believe that’s for the best. He needs a political wife, you realize.”
This was not a discussion she wished to have with Elliott’s sister. “He explained it in painful detail last night.”
Diana’s expression took on horrified look. “He wasn’t cruel, was he? You haven’t developed tender feelings for him, have you?”
Tender feelings? No. More like furious, angry, lustful, achingly frustrated feelings. But she wasn’t going to say that to Diana. “Let’s have no more talk of your brother. He is out of my thoughts and replaced by at least a dozen other gentlemen.” In the last hour, they had pared down Diana’s list to fourteen possibilities, but three of special interest.
“Excellent,” Diana said with a bright smile. “Now hurry and dress. We have no time at all!”
Chapter Fifteen
The day was exhausting. Endless rounds of polite discussion, proper posture, and veiled jabs frayed Amber’s nerves. She knew that women were dangerous, spiteful creatures. The ladies’ side of the Lyon’s Den had taught her that. When she had helped with the dancing lessons or filled in occasionally at the women’s gaming tables, she had been treated with disdain if not outright cruelty. But she had assumed that was because to them, she’d been no more than a servant.
Now she was one of them, or so they thought, and the things that they said to her were even more cruel, more hurtful, and more bizarre. They complimented her dress as a means to insult her. More than one woman praised her for being so economical as to refashion an old gown such that only the most discerning viewer could see that it wasn’t new. Others told her not to worry about being so long in the tooth. Twenty-five wasn’t old, but they seemed to think she was already in her dotage. And they seemed to have an obsessive interest in her freckles. She’d never really bothered with them before. Since she spent so much time indoors, she gloried in bright days when she could lift her face to the sun. Those days had marked her cheeks, apparently, and now she was given advice on how to cover them with cosmetics or bleach them right off her face.
Diana had counseled her to smile and ignore every single word, but it was hard when the petty sniping came as a constant barrage. She did her best to focus on the gentlemen in her environs. Almost all of them were on Diana’s list, though some were already crossed off. Those who remained husband possibilities behaved in a perfectly acceptable manner. But she had no idea what they were like in private, because she was never, ever alone with them or anyone else.
She never thought she’d miss the quiet times in the cage where the only sound was Lina’s abacas and the muted sounds of gameplay from the main floor. Right now, she longed for those very late times when all but the most dedicated gamblers had departed. The dealers worked with careful efficiency, and everyone else waited in silence for the night to end.
“Miss Gohar, may I introduce you to…”
“Let me tell you about my collection of rare Azawakhs. You’d think they were regular greyhounds, but…”
“What a sickly shade of yellow that is. You really shouldn’t wear…”
On and on it went throughout the afternoon. By the time they’d finished strolling in Hyde Park, Amber’s head was throbbing. She had only an hour to rest before dressing for the theater, and she planned to spend it on her bed with a wet towel over her face. No one would be allowed to say one word to her because, good Lord, how the ton liked to talk!
She was just starting to relax into her pillow when a soft knock sounded on her door.
Too exhausted to hide her irritation, Amber groaned by way of response. Diana didn’t seem to notice, however, as she stuck her head into the bedroom.
“Bad news,” she said. “Richard has taken a turn for the worse. I won’t be able to go to the theater with you tonight.”
Amber sat up. “Oh, dear. Is there anything I can do?”
“Not at all. Just have a good time without me.”
“But I can’t go without you. Let me stay here—”
Diana shook her head. “You can’t. Not after rushing out so precipitously last night. People would begin to talk.”
“But—”
“Trust me. You need to go, but you also need a companion.”
Elliott? She couldn’t even say his name out loud, but her heart was already thumping in anticipation.
“My mother has agreed to do it. She loves flirting with Lord Portham for all that’s he’s fat as a cow. Just make sure she lets you talk with Portham’s son. He’s quiet, but he’s counted quite clever.”
Amber nodded, her heart slowing to a depressed ka-thump. “I would be happy to stay here with you.”
Diana gave her a sad smile. “Part of learning to be a society wife is learning what invitations to accept, reject, and forget. You cannot forget this one. Not even if your head is pounding, and your feet feel like they’re five sizes too large.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was right beside you all day, and I feel the same way.”
Actually, Amber had meant how did she know which invitations to accept, reject, or forget, but she supposed that would come with experience. “Perhaps I could read to your husband—”
“That’s my duty, I’m afraid because I’m married and you’ve yet to cross that particular bridge. So get ready. Mother will be here early just so she can force you to change everything you’re wearing, then borrow your jewelry.”
Amber frowned. “I will not let her wear the lion. It’s how everyone knows me. They keep talking about the lion in my hair, the roar of my beauty, the…” She waved her hands. She really didn’t want to remember any of the dreadful puns she’d heard this day.
“Trust me,” Diana said with a laugh. “They’ll remember you without it, but create some sort of lie about how special it is to you. Given to you by your sick but now recovered grandmama.”
Oh yes. They’d been telling everyone that good news had awaited Amber after rushing home from Almack’s last night. Her grandmother was on the mend, all was well, and she felt very silly for her emotional display. Most gentlemen had patted her hand and told her those excess emotions were a plague of the fairer sex, and they forgave her for being female.
Blech. She hated condescending men.
“It is special to me,” Amber said softly. “It reminds me of who I am.”
“You are Miss Amber Gohar, who is about to make a brilliant match. Mother may plague you tonight, but she does add extra support to your respectability. Try not to strangle her if she becomes too obnoxious.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” She wasn’t at all sure, but Diana had enough to worry about. Amber didn’t want to add more.
“Excellent. I’ll leave you to it then. And do try to have a little fun! Life can get dreadful very fast.”
There was weight to her last words, and though Diana left with a smile, there was a darkness in her that was painful to see. Amber might struggle beneath the weight of her dream come true, but Diana’s life was immeasurably worse married to a sick, old man and plagued by a wastrel stepson who was larger and scarier. Amber feared for Diana, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She had to focus on getting through tonight with the dowager Lady Byrn. Especially since Diana’s maid came to help her dress.