Edith’s brows rose in surprise as a smile crossed her lips. “Are you telling me to behave badly, Miranda?”
“I am telling you to stand for yourself, my love,” Miranda corrected, now moving them both forward into the room. “The good Lord knows you deserve to.”
Edith swallowed and patted her friend’s hand as they moved to the others, the tea service just arriving.
“The gentlemen are to take tea with the ladies, are they?” Miranda chirped with some delight, though the note of surprise was evident. She smiled at the gentlemen seated around tables or standing nearby. “How marvelously forward-thinking of us.”
“They will be playing at cards, Mrs. Sterling,” Catherine Tillman said in the clipped tone Edith had grown accustomed to. “We are not so far removed from Society as to forget our places.”
Miranda gave the young woman a surprised look as she sat gracefully on the divan beside Janet Sterling. “My place is at tea? How peculiar.”
Edith barely avoided snorting a laugh as she took a seat beside Grace, glancing over at Tony, Francis, and Henshaw, who all looked heavenward in a silent plea for deliverance.
“Miranda’s on her mettle,” Grace murmured as she took a cup of tea from Felicity Bradford. “How marvelous!”
Edith could only nod her agreement.
Catherine Tillman, however, was not amused.
“The lady’s place is separate from that of the gentleman,” Catherine insisted. “It is widely accepted, and Society does expect it.”
“I have learned not to pay too much attention to Society’s expectations,” Miranda told her, and, by extension, the rest of them. “If I did, I would have to consider myself a failure for not having given my husband a child. And I can assure you, Miss Tillman, that I am not a failure.”
There was no way for Catherine to refute that statement, not if she wished to maintain her reputation and position.
Edith took a cup of tea herself from Miss Bradford and sipped slowly, the desire to laugh rising steadily.
Miss Bradford looked at Edith with a sympathetic look. “It must be such a relief for you to be away from London, Lady Edith. I can only imagine what painful memories must exist there for you.”
Edith jerked slightly, barely avoiding upending her tea. There was no knowing for certain what pain she was speaking about. She swallowed her tea and chanced a glance at Lord Radcliffe, who had heard, and his eyes were steady on her.
“Oh, yes,” her sister chimed in beside her. “How you must miss your husband, Lady Edith.”
Edith breathed a faint sigh of relief and was certain she was not the only one in the room to do so. “I suppose I must,” she replied, smiling with all politeness. “It is a very peculiar trial. But I think Sir Archibald would wish me to move on with my life in the best way possible.”
Sympathetic nods were all around, and Grace and Georgie hid snickers behind their fans.
“You poor thing,” Adaline Chesney simpered. “But I heard that you have quite got on with your life, and in a most intriguing way.”
Edith looked at her in surprise, not caring at all for the tone in her voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lord Radcliffe stiffen slightly.
“Hush, Adaline,” Felicity hissed in a rather surprisingly dark tone. “Idle gossip is not suitable.”
“It is not idle,” Adaline sneered. “Ask anyone.”
“What have ye heard?” Edith managed to ask, trying to look only merely interested though her toes were suddenly ice. “I hope it is at least entertaining. Imagine being accused of tedious rumors and no’ exciting ones.”
The women laughed easily, and again, Lord Radcliffe relaxed a bit, though his tension was still evident. Clearly, he was minding the conversation carefully when he ought to have been focused on his cards with Mr. Wyndham.
Adaline gave Edith a smug smile, her eyes glinting. “We all have heard that you have taken on a Scottish lover in your time of distress. That he is a rather large and imposing fellow, and quite barbaric. Tell me, truly, does he wear the kilt in your bedchamber?”
Diana Bradford gasped. “You have said too much, Adaline,” she chided.
“You heard that, too?” Felicity asked, looking over at her.
She nodded. “I did not think it appropriate to repeat!” she said with a pointed look at Adaline, who ignored her.
Lord Radcliffe rose, drawing Edith’s gaze. His expression was rather murderous, and he began to come to the gathered ladies.
Thinking quickly, Edith only smiled at Adaline. “My, my, a Scottish lover? That is a bit predictable, is it no’? One of my own countrymen for a taste of home, was that it? Does the rumor say if he had money? I canna countenance taking a lover simply because one has need of primal comfort when there are no other advantages to the situation.”
Grace coughed a surprised laugh into her tea, and Felicity Bradford looked at her with wide eyes.
“You… you are saying the rumor is false?” Adaline asked, looking disgruntled.
Lord Radcliffe had stopped and was now only perhaps three feet behind the group, though no one marked him.
Edith flicked her eyes up to his and saw that he was watching her with interest. Perhaps he had also heard the rumors. She smiled at him, then at the rest. “I’m only saying that I shouldna be so crass as to parade any illicit relationship for comment.”
Cheeks flaming with outrage, Edith now directed her attention entirely upon Adaline. “And while I have no notion why Society finds my personal relationships so verra intriguing…” A few ladies flushed and averted their gazes while Edith continued. “…I can honestly say, no’ tha’ it matters on the whole, that I havnae taken a lover of any sort, nor should I, unless I was fortunate enough to marry again, and then it should only be with him. Does tha’ make me so very prudish to you, Miss Chesney?”
She looked positively appalled, her small mouth working soundlessly. Grace and Georgie grinned, Janet hid a smile behind her cup, and Miranda silently applauded.
Diana Bradford sat back and murmured, “Well, well, a true lady after all. I am delighted to hear it.”
Edith seethed silently, barely maintaining her tight smile, and rose to her feet. “If you will excuse me, I mus’ see if any other imaginary Scottish lovers are waiting for me in my bedchamber. They do so hate to be kept waiting.”
Grace snorted and pulled out a handkerchief in an attempt to feign blowing her nose, while Adaline merely looked ill and scowled.
Edith curtseyed to the group and moved to leave but stopped only three steps from her seat. Exhaling, she looked over her shoulder and said, “And the thing about kilts, Miss Chesney, is that it makes all sorts of things verra convenient. And vastly more entertaining.”
Her friends seemed to crumple against each other in mirth, while the Bradford sisters gleefully grinned. Catherine and Adaline, however, were both quite red in the face.
Lifting her chin, Edith continued to move away, glancing up as she passed Lord Radcliffe. He met her gaze with a great deal of pride and a hint of a smile.
“Brilliantly executed, my lady,” he murmured.
She inclined her head. “Thank you, my lord. I think I should visit my special friend now, do you agree?”
He did smile now and nodded. “Absolutely. She is waiting for you.”