perfectly lovely fantasy.
With a smile fixed in place, Elizabeth turned to confront the danger head on.
Oh Lud! Lady Danvers’ presence would have been bad enough, but to add to Elizabeth’s growing dismay, at her side stood Mrs. Albright, one of her mother’s oldest and dearest friend. Her raised brow and tight lips conveyed a mixture of shock and concern.
What on earth was she doing here? Her mother had mentioned her friend would be visiting with her niece in London for a spell in the summer but had never mentioned an acquaintance with her cousin Missy or James.
“Who was that with you?” Lady Danvers demanded, her voice ringing out haughty and shrill. Her eyes, a shade of blue not heralded by the poets, flashed triumphantly behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.
When Elizabeth didn’t immediately respond—for she could not think of one face saving thing to say—the dowager flicked a gloved hand at her as she made a coarse inspection of her from head to hem and then back up again. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I realize this is your first Season, but in London society, country girls are expected to comport themselves better than barn felines. Loose morals have no place here.”
Elizabeth would have preferred to be cross-examined before the magistrate than suffer the dowager’s dressing down. Her world was crumbling down around her and she could do little to stop the destruction.
Opposite of the Dowager Countess of Danvers in every possible way with her small-boned frame and impeccable manners, Mrs. Abernathy appeared unwilling to convict Elizabeth without a fair hearing. “Lady Danvers, I’m sure you are mistaken. I have known Elizabeth since she was a babe. If you would give the poor girl a chance, I’m quite certain she has a perfectly logical explanation.”
Elizabeth could have kissed her, the dear woman. Mrs. Abernathy had always had a fondness for her and her sisters, bringing them treats on every visit with her mother.
“What possible explanation could there possibly be? It’s quite obvious they were doing a sight more than flower gazing. And don’t you try to protect her. You heard their goings on as clearly as I did.” The dowager folded fleshy arms across her ample breasts, refusing to budge an inch as she stood set to be jury and judge while wielding her executioner’s sword like she’d been going so all her seventy odd years.
Elizabeth met Lady Danvers’ disapproving glower without flinching. The Dowager Countess of Danvers was a formidable force in society, her influence wide reaching and much sought after. An unfavorable word from her lips would spell certain disaster for someone in Elizabeth’s position.
Anger began a slow burn at the woman’s arrogance.
What possible explanation indeed.
But Elizabeth wasn’t addled in the brain as to respond the way she wanted—the way she ought to—fully understanding the ways of London society. A healthy dose of fear settled in the pit of her stomach.
Think, think, think.
She must tell the blasted woman something before the gossip wheels began to turn in earnest and at record breaking speeds. If the dowager countess had her way, Elizabeth and the Smith name would be dirt before the evening closed.
“My sincerest apologies, my lady, if my behavior has been indiscreet. But in my excitement, I acted out of character.” Where she was going with this, Elizabeth hadn’t the faintest idea, but Mrs. Abernathy’s brown eyes widened and Lady Danvers gave a succinct nod, urging her to proceed. She now had their most focused attention.
“It’s not to be announced until the end of the Season, but given what you heard, I shall tell you. I would hate it if you walked away thinking the worst of me.”
Elizabeth drew in a deep breath and threw herself at the mercy of an uncertain fate. “The gentleman had just asked me to marry him. I am betrothed—or at least I shall before the end of the Season.” Which gave her four weeks to