Page 89 of A Well-Trained Lady

The five of them laughed, and though my chest heated with indignation, I forced out a smile. “Yet who could blame her?” Their mocking snickers halted, awaiting my revelation. “One set to inherit such a large fortune can afford to have less care for others’ opinions.”

“She is an heiress?” Lady Beatrice asked, appearing quite startled by the news.

I paused, deciding how much stretching of the truth was acceptable in shielding a friend—and in some part myself—from mockery. “It is not yet official, but shall likely be soon. Her father, after all, was a man of immense wealth.”

The shared looks of astonishment told me I’d perhaps gone a touch too far.

Mr. Green’s gaze lingered on Ruth a long moment. “Even without a fortune, Miss Seton seems a lady worth knowing.”

My heart lifted at his acknowledgment, and I censured myself for ever having thought Mr. Green beneath my notice. “I assure you, she is.”

* * *

Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Mother insisted on accompanying me to my room before bed. When the door was secured behind us, she turned on me. “Did you know of their arrival?”

There was no way to feign ignorance as to what she was speaking of. “No. Lord Thorton relayed that he wished it to be a surprise.”

“Why in heaven’s name would he bring the one man …” Her words trailed off, before her piercing glare returned to me. “It is a test.”

I swallowed, her words confirming my own fears.

“It seems Lord Thorton is not as big of a fool as the rest of his sex.” She released a puff of air. “You must prove to him where your devotion lies.”

Despite the constriction in my chest, I straightened my shoulders. “But what if it does not lie with him?”

Mother’s palpable abhorrence nearly silenced me, but now that I had begun, I refused to cower.

“Does Lord Thorton not also deserve a wife that prefers him above all other men?”

Mother scoffed. “No. Nor should you be foolish enough to expect the same from him. Marriage is a business union, little more. So long as you do what is expected of you as a wife, and use discretion in everything else, you will make Lord Thorton an equitable match.”

My stomach twisted at her insinuation, and I shook my head. “Marriage can be more than that.”

Mother’s laugh mocked me. “You still fancy yourself in love with that pitiable, untitled man, Mr. Brundage?”

Resentment coursed through my veins, but I knew my defiance would not only serve to worsen my own consequence, but that of Ruth and Augustus as well. “No. I was mistaken in my feelings for Mr. Brundage. Just as I was mistaken with the other gentlemen I encouraged before him.”

“Do not lie to me, Arabella. I was the one who taught you the art of deception.”

My teeth clenched at the reminder of her part in all of this—in her making me into someone unworthy of Augustus’s love. “If you expect the truth from me, then I will hold you to that same standard.”

“Arabella—”

“Explain why you allowed me to believe for years that I had been forgotten by Ruth and Augustus.”

Mother lifted her chin. “It was necessary.”

“As was your threat to Ruth, I suppose?”

“You know nothing. And yet you stand on your moral high ground, unaware that it has crumbled beneath you long ago.”

“You threatened to ruin an innocent child.” My voice quivered, and I cursed my weakness.

Mother did not respond for some time, her eyes fixed on me. “A threat that apparently needs reinstating.”

Though my legs trembled beneath me, I grasped at my waning courage. “You no longer hold any power over her. I have told the others of her past.”

“What have you told them? That Ruth’s father took her mother’s life, then his own?”