Page 71 of A Convenient Fiction

“She’d like to see you.” Aunt Charlotte wrung her hands. “Oh, I realize it’s long overdue. But you know how she is. And who can blame her in this instance? Mr. Archer was practically her betrothed.”

“He wasn’t.”

“Near enough, as far as she’s concerned. It’s only natural that there should be some ill feeling on her part. I mean to say…the man made a spectacle of himself kissing you on a public beach. You! A female too weak to resist. He’s compromised you beyond recovery. How could Miss Talbot ever marry him now?”

“He wasn’t kissing me, Aunt. I’ve told you a half dozen times. He was sharing his breath. If you don’t believe me, you must at least believe Teddy. He was on the beach when it happened.”

Aunt Charlotte gave an eloquent snort. “Sharing his breath, indeed. A likely excuse.”

“You weren’t there. Not until after he’d revived me.”

“I thank God every day that I wasn’t. But I’ve had the events of that morning described to me by more people than I care to count. I don’t know how I shall ever hold my head up in the village again. And I can’t begin to imagine how you ever will. Not without allies. Being civil to Henrietta Talbot would go a long way toward repairing your reputation. If you’ll only come down to the parlor and greet her.”

Laura turned back to the window. She drew her silk shawl more firmly about her shoulders. “I’m not well enough to come downstairs today.”

“Oh, Laura, can you not make the effort—”

“She may come and see me up here if she likes. We are old friends, after all.” Laura couldn’t keep the edge of bitterness from her voice. Henrietta had been as cold as ice toward her on the train home from Margate. As if it had been Laura’s fault that she’d nearly drowned.

And perhaps it was.

Had she been exercising adequate care for her reputation, she’d never have swum off alone. She’d have abided by the rules set out for genteel young ladies. Resisted the temptation of the open sea, and stayed safely near the shore.

Now, as a result of her actions, it wasn’t only her own life that was affected. Aunt Charlotte, Teddy, and even Alex were all suffering from the upheaval caused by Laura’s reckless decision.

Aunt Charlotte gave Laura’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “My darling. We haven’t been the luckiest of families, I know, but we shall rally again, just as we’ve always done. You mustn’t take it too much to heart.”

Laura covered her aunt’s hand with her own. “Do send up Henrietta.”

A short time later, preceded by the creaking of the stairs and the squeak of the loose floorboard in the hall, Henrietta entered Laura’s bedroom. She might have stepped straight out of the pages of the Englishwomen’s Domestic Magazine. Her striped afternoon dress was the height of summer fashion, her flounced skirts standing wide over a wire crinoline.

Laura made no move to rise from the window embrasure, nor did Magpie. He watched Henrietta’s approach with a sapient eye.

“Laura.” Her voice was frosty. “Your aunt says you’ve been ill.”

“Indeed,” Laura replied in equally cool tones. “I nearly drowned two days ago, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“As if I could!” Henrietta crossed the room, her skirts brushing against the heavy furniture. “It was your own fault, you know. If you hadn’t insisted on swimming away from the bathing machines, none of this would have happened.”

Laura didn’t dispute the fact. She knew only too well who was to blame for the situation she found herself in. And it wasn’t Alex Archer.

“Why couldn’t you have stayed with the rest of us in the shallows?” Henrietta asked. “Why must you always make yourself the center of attention?”

“Is that what you think I was doing?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I haven’t come to quarrel with you.” Henrietta walked to the mantel. There was an old carriage clock there, and a red-and-white porcelain spaniel with a chip in its ear. “George came to dine at the Park last night. He told me some very interesting things about Mr. Archer after Papa retired.”

“Mr. Archer?”

“I won’t be familiar with a man of his reputation,” Henrietta said primly. “I regret that I ever was.”

Laura sighed. “Go on then, what did George have to say?”

Henrietta touched the porcelain figurine with one gloved finger. “He told me that he owes Mr. Archer money. Ten thousand pounds in gaming debts, to be precise.”

“Ten thousand pounds!” Laura sat up straighter. “How on earth…?”

“Mr. Archer is a notorious gambler, apparently. One of the most dangerous on the continent. George was well in his clutches before he realized the sort of villain he’d become involved with.” Henrietta picked up the figurine. “He has no way to pay his debts. Not even if he were to seek employment. He could never hope to earn such a sum. It’s a dastardly situation Mr. Archer has put him in.”