Page 55 of A Lady of Conscience

Mattie leaned forward. “But Hannah⁠—”

“You haven’t many subscribers yet,” Hannah said. “And those who have already bought subscriptions share our views. They will not be shocked to see my name in print, if they notice it at all.”

“It isn’t only my subscribers who have access to the Animal Advocate,” Mattie said. “I received permission to distribute copies at the draper’s in Milsom Street, and at the shop of a modiste I’m acquainted with in St. James’s Parade. Any of their customers can help themselves to a copy from the stack I leave on the counter.”

Hannah was impressed rather than alarmed. “That is very enterprising of you.”

A fleeting smile touched Mattie’s lips. “One tries one’s best.” She at once grew serious again. “Of course, if I do go ahead with the issue, I can certainly refrain from giving away any copies this month.”

“You needn’t refrain,” Hannah said. “Not on my account.”

There was another gasp from Ernsby

“The risk to your reputation would be greater—” Mattie began.

“I know the risks,” Hannah said, as much for her maid’s benefit as for Mattie’s. “But having strong beliefs means being strong enough to stand by them, no matter the cost.”

Hannah’s words did little to appease Ernsby. The lady’s maid gave voice to her concerns the whole of the drive back to Camden Place.

“Everyone goes to that draper’s shop,” she said from her seat across from Hannah in the carriage. “Ladies and gentlemen alike, and their servants. It won’t be a day or two after Miss Winthrop sets out those journals, or whatever you call ’em, before all of Bath knows your name and what you’ve allowed to be printed about yourself.”

“Not about myself,” Hannah replied. “About caring for one’s cats.”

“It is about yourself, miss. Everything a young lady does during her season reflects on her character.”

“I hope it will,” Hannah said stoutly. “There’s nothing in that article that I wouldn’t proclaim from the street corner if I thought people would listen.”

Ernsby closed her eyes at this pronouncement, as though praying for divine intervention.

It was an overreaction, Hannah told herself. Nevertheless…

On returning to her parents’ house, Hannah felt the faintest prickling of anxiety. Not because she regretted what she’d written, but because she suspected that Ernsby was right. The very act of having one’s name in print was borderline scandalous for a young lady.

And worse.

Hannah now had someone else’s opinion to consider. Someone who had only a few short weeks ago expressed justifiable misgivings about her ability to move in fashionable society. Someone who would now have verifiable proof that his suspicions had been proved right. If news should reach his ears…

What would James think?

Chapter Eighteen

The ballroom in Lord and Lady Teesdales’ house near Lansdown Road was but a fraction of the size of the Carletons’ ballroom. It was no less elegant. Hannah arrived on her brother’s arm, clad in a gown of pale blue Marceline silk. Her parents had not come this evening. It wasn’t considered fashionable for them to attend every event with her. Instead, it had fallen to Charles to escort her to the many dances, dinners, and concerts that comprised her season.

Charles professed not to mind it. However, anyone could see that he had been distracted of late with all the preparations for his marriage to Kate. While his betrothed was away in London purchasing her wedding clothes, he’d been obliged to remain in the West Country, not just for Hannah’s sake but to settle affairs relating to Satterthwaite Court, the estate Hannah’s parents had purchased for him in Devonshire.

Hannah’s mother had grown up at Satterthwaite Court and had many fond memories of her childhood there. When the property had recently come up for sale, Hannah’s father had bought it with the intention of keeping it in the family. Charles and Kate were to live there now, a comfortable distance from both Heywood House and the Beresfords’ Beasley Park.

“I’ll have to travel there tomorrow,” Charles said as they strolled along the crowded edge of the ballroom. “The estate agent wants to go over some of the repairs he’s made to the upper rooms.”

“Will you be obliged to stay overnight?” Hannah asked.

“I doubt it. Though I’m not likely to return in time to escort you to the concert at the Assembly Rooms.”

“I don’t mind missing it.”

“You needn’t,” her brother said. “You can attend with Lady Carleton in my absence. She’ll be happy to include you in her party.”

Hannah’s brow puckered. “Surely I have imposed on her ladyship enough this season.”