So much for making a good impression with Society.
There wasn’t much she could do about that, and there wasn’t much she could say for herself. Her attendance at events would give her more opportunity to improve her abilities at names and faces when under impossible stress from Sir Reginald. However, she would seriously consider returning to Scotland if he began to appear at every event she attended.
The thought of her native land filled her with familiar pangs of longing, and she inhaled deeply, as if the stale London air could somehow match that of her beloved Highlands.
Home had ceased to be so for some time now, and her family would not welcome her back should she have appeared. Her mother alone, perhaps, and her younger sister if she were in the proper mood, but her father would turn her away at once. She had no fortune now that her husband was dead, and the family had wasted her dowry on a man who’d died before the ink dried on the contract.
Or so the latest letter from her father had said.
Her duty now was to find another husband and use whatever provisions Archie had left her to make the most of it. Edith didn’t have the heart to tell her father that Archie had left her almost nothing and that she wouldn’t be in a position to give her father the ties to Society he was seeking.
He might have told her to go along with Sir Reginald’s schemes, for all she knew. He’d had no problem with selling his daughter to her first husband; having his daughter be mistress to a baronet might have been a capital idea to him. Provided she could benefit financially from the connection, and the family could, as well.
If only she had the means to return to Scotland without returning to her family. There would be so much freedom and joy in that. But freedom and joy were not in the cards for Edith at present, and perhaps not even in the future.
She would settle for security and self-respect. Maybe even security alone.
Edith shook her head and raised her chin as she approached Charlotte’s home, knowing that her friend was rather inclined to looking out of the windows in anticipation of arrivals. She would never escape the meeting without interrogation if she were caught making anything less than a pleasant face.
She had a feeling there would be questions enough for her as it was.
Entering the grand house, Edith sighed to herself as she shrugged out of her worn cloak. The maids in the Wright household were well used to her tattered things and controlled their expressions accordingly. She never apologized for the state of her clothing, and they treated her as they did every other guest in the house.
It was a well-choreographed pantomime.
“If you’ll follow me, Lady Edith,” the friendly housekeeper said with a gesture towards the drawing rooms.
Edith refrained from reminding the woman that she knew full well where Charlotte’s favorite drawing room was, having been to the house almost weekly for a year or so. She needed to keep all the good connections she could, even if they be servants in the grand houses. If Sir Reginald got his way, or if Edith had to resort to less respectable means of securing her future, these guardians of the entrance would be key to not losing every connection Edith had in the world.
The sound of at least a dozen doors slamming shut rang in her mind in the imagined scenario, and she shuddered at hearing it.
“Lady Edith Leveson, Miss Wright.”
Edith blinked hard and forced a smile as the drawing room was suddenly before her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Evans,” Charlotte chimed, rising from her seat within the drawing room and turning to face them with her usual grin, a dimple appearing in her left cheek. “Edie, I was worried you weren’t coming.”
“Edie?” Grace cried from her spot in a chair. “Wherever did that name come from?”
Edith snickered as she entered the room, watching as Charlotte rounded on Grace with an exasperated expression that spoke of a very entertaining conversation prior to her arrival.
“I was simply trying it out, Grace!” Charlotte insisted. “It could be an adorable shortening of her name that we use, as her friends.”
Grace looked utterly bewildered and turned her attention to Edith. “Has anyone, in the whole course of your life, called you Edie?”
“Not since I was a wee thing,” Edith said simply as she sat in the vacant seat on the sofa next to Prudence Vale, taking a cup of tea from her. “Thank you, lass. This is much needed.”
“Of course,” Prue murmured. She leaned closer and whispered, “They’ve been arguing the virtues of familiarity for a quarter of an hour. Heaven alone knows why.”
Edith nodded as she blew softly on her steaming tea. “One can only hope Charlotte finds a point to come to very shortly.”
Prue snickered a soft laugh, then groaned a little, one arm wrapping around her visibly swollen abdomen. “Merciful days…”
“The bairn?” Edith smiled gently, eyeing her friend’s wince.
Prue nodded, biting her lip briefly. “I know I still have some time before my confinement, but this little one isn’t behaving very well.”
“That’s because the child is Camden Vale’s,” Charlotte announced, interjecting herself into their conversation, as per usual. “You cannot expect an easy time of it.”
Georgie Sterling snorted softly, bouncing her infant son on her lap. “That’s so comforting, Charlotte. Really. Prue feels much better now.”
“Well, it’s her own fault,” Charlotte insisted as she flopped herself inelegantly down in a chair. “Having your child in the middle of the Season. Really, Prue, you’ll be off to your country estate in a matter of weeks, and then that will be it. Why could you not have arranged your confinement for the winter?”
“Arranged?” Izzy Morton laughed, setting her tea down to avoid disrupting it. “Charlotte, there is no scheduling something like this.”
Charlotte huffed and shook her head. “I refuse to believe that. As adorable as the young Miss Vale will undoubtedly be, I shall take some time to forgive her for taking my friend away during the Season.”
“Miss Vale?” Prue repeated with a small smile. “Cam would be delighted if that came to be.”
“So would I,” Georgie announced. She bounced her giggling son again, quirking her brows. “She has a suitor waiting.”
Edith pursed her lips playfully. “The lass might have two Sterling suitors vying for her. Didna Janet and Lord Sterling have a strapping lad, as well?”
That earned her a scowl from Georgie. “How dare you! Thomas is far and away the better candidate for Miss Vale. Henry may be my son’s cousin, but he is not suited for the match. Ask Elinor when she arrives next week, she will agree with me.”
“Don’t talk about that girl,” Charlotte insisted, raising a hand. “I do not have it in me to call her Mrs. Sterling, and I may never accept her husband as I have the others. It is too monstrous.”
Prue sighed heavily, rubbing at her belly. “Charlotte… Hugh Sterling has s-sent us all some very f-fine letters of apology, and he apologized again at the wedding breakfast. You’ve s-seen him yourself, and he was most p-pleasant.”
Charlotte shook her head, her lips pulling down. “No, I cannot allow that. He has misled Elinor, and she is a fool for being so duped. The wedding was beautiful, and they were wise to keep it small, but that is one redemption I cannot see as valid.”