Page 43 of A Well-Trained Lady

Ruth nodded, taking hold of my arm and leading me forward. “The Whitmores have returned to Safford Park just this morning and have called on us to pay a visit. They have already waited nearly a half hour for the two of you to return from … wherever you were.”

My throat went dry, hoping Ruth or Mrs. Brundage had the foresight to offer a more permissible excuse to the visitors. “And what reason did you give the Whitmores regarding our absence?”

Ruth shrugged. “Only that we could not find the two of you, and that you had likely ventured off together as you used to do.”

I nearly choked on the air I attempted to draw in, glancing over my shoulder at Augustus who appeared entirely unruffled.

Ruth continued forward, obviously unaware of my dismay. “We told them we weren’t certain when you would return, but they would not be put off with how anxious they are to meet you, Bella.” Ruth looked back at Augustus. “And, of course, Candace is most eager to speak with you.”

I kept my gaze forward, unwilling to glimpse Augustus’s reaction to Ruth’s declaration regarding Miss Whitmore. “Well, as thrilled as I am to finally meet them, may I freshen up a bit first? I fear in my current state I may be somewhat of a disappointment.”

Ruth appraised me. “But you look lovely, Bella.” She tightened her grip, as though she had no intention of releasing me. “The Whitmores shall adore you exactly as you are.”

I doubted that, but as the voices drifted toward us from the open drawing room doors, I realized there was no hope of excusing myself without being noticed. I swallowed down my apprehension and lifted my chin.

“Here we are,” Ruth said, entering the room with me on her arm. The chatter ceased and not two, but three visitors—a gentleman included—stood in unison with Mrs. Brundage and Sarah. I didn’t allow my consideration to linger on the guests, but smiled at Mrs. Brundage who hurried toward us.

“Do forgive us for our tardiness,” I said, reaching out a hand toward her. “Had we known there was to be company, we would have postponed taking a turn out of doors until later.”

Mrs. Brundage took my hand in hers. “It is no matter, dear. We had plenty to discuss in your absence, but now that you have come, let us not postpone the introductions a moment longer.” She did not release my hand, and neither did Ruth relinquish my arm, as she led me forward. The nearness of both women was both unnerving and yet somehow comforting.

“Miss Godwin,” Mrs. Brundage stopped in front of an elegant woman with dark hair and matching dark eyes, “this is our neighbor and dearest friend, Mrs. Whitmore.”

Mrs. Brundage released my hand, and I offered a small curtsy. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The woman gave a tight grin and nod in return, her eyes indiscreetly moving up my figure as she lifted her gaze again. “Yes. We have heard so very much about you these past years, both from the Brundages as well as in London.”

I straightened my posture at her insinuation, refusing to let her words affect me. It would take more than a subtly placed insult regarding mere rumors to cause me distress. In truth, I had become quite the expert at dealing with vindictive mothers, a necessary protocol I had developed with much success. Afterall, I did not lack practice. “How kind you are to say such a thing, Mrs. Whitmore,” I said, in a saccharine voice. “And I have heard only the best about you also.”

Her fingers stiffened then closed into fists at her sides, but she offered a tight-lipped smile.

“And this is Candace,” Ruth said excitedly, neglecting my instructions on the proper handling of introductions. “I am certain you two shall be the dearest of friends.”

I finally allowed myself a look at Miss Whitmore, not the least bit surprised to find a vexingly handsome lady with dark features that contrasted her almond-shaped, green eyes. Ruth had mentioned we were nearly the same age, but I couldn’t help but think how innocent she looked. Had she truly made it through two Seasons without scathing such a countenance? “Miss Whitmore,” I said most intentionally, giving a nod. “I hope we shall be fast friends.”

She smiled, though there was a touch of hesitancy in it. “Of course we shall.”

Eager to move on, I looked to the gentleman, surprised to find a somewhat familiar face staring back at me. It wasn’t that he was particularly handsome or entirely memorable, but the way his large ears reddened under my attention could not be forgotten. “Mr. Treynor?” I asked, confident I had recalled his name correctly.

He gave a swift bow. “I was not certain you would remember me.”

“Of course I would. We met at a soiree held by my aunt not a month previous. Your mother”—I paused, trying to recall the connection correctly—“is married to my uncle’s youngest brother, correct?”

“Impressive, Miss Godwin. And I, of course, remember you. Obviously … as I already said that.” He fidgeted, and I wondered what it was about a beautiful woman that made most men act so inept. “You look lovely … as you did when we met. But you likely know that.” His eyes widened. “Not that I think you vain, simply aware of your natural qualities.”

I had watched him flounder about long enough. “And what brings you to Dorset?”

He swallowed, his ears turning nearly scarlet. “I have simply come for a visit, as you have, it would seem. Mrs. Whitmore is my aunt—my mother’s sister.”

“How splendid,” I said, with not a hint of the wryness I felt. “And even more so that our visits should coincide.”

The color that had congregated in his ears now spread into his face, and he tugged at his cravat. “It is most delightful, if you don’t presume me too bold for agreeing.” He gestured me to the chair near where he had been sitting. “Would you care to sit a while?”

Knowing I could not refuse him, I released Ruth’s arm and took a seat. At least there had been no room on the settee next to him, though Sarah’s position in the corner, with a book in hand, looked most ideal. “And what are the latest reports of Town, Mr. Treynor? I know I have been gone less than a week, but much can happen in that time.”

He took a seat, as did Mrs. Brundage and Mrs. Whitmore, before nodding his understanding. “Where shall I begin?”

I gave a small lift of one shoulder. “Wherever you see fit.”