Page 29 of The Detective and the Baroness

“You’re welcome.” Mitchell exhaled, placed his hat on his head, touched the brim, and headed for the door. Corrine hurried ahead of him and opened it.

“Saturday afternoon, then.” Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears.

He hesitated long enough to slip on his gloves. “Until Saturday. Good afternoon, my lady.”

Corrine quickly closed the door and leaned against it. Then, she laid her hand over her heart. It thundered in her chest.

Oh, this is not wise.

It occurred to her that they hadn’t discussed Travis, nor did he give her any report, if there had been one.

Exhaling loudly, Corrine promised herself that she would speak to Travis soon. For she could not stay married to him if this attraction to Mitchell flared further.

Chapter Eleven

The tea party was in full swing at the Duchess of Gransford’s impressive residence, with the parlor transformed into a restaurant-type setting. The plush chairs and sofas were pushed against the walls, with round tables and chairs filling the floor. At the front of the room, a long table with a lace tablecloth held silver platters of savory sandwiches, fruit, biscuits, and loaf cakes. There were three Victoria sponge cakes, cream puffs, petit fours, lemon tartlets, and more. It was quite an elaborate spread. And what would a tea party be without scones and clotted cream?

An introductory tea was served first, and the ladies were encouraged to mill about the room and chat with each other before taking their seats. Blast it. Name cards were at the tables, so Corrine could not choose where she sat. She must gather the information now before the food was served. The servants were already filling the silver three-tiered trays.

About to survey the crowd, Corrine caught the Duchess of Gransford strolling toward her out of the corner of her eye.

“Baroness Addington, I am so pleased you came. I had hoped to speak to you a moment.”

“Your Grace. Thank you for inviting me,” Corrine replied politely.

“Drew tells me you were a nurse. So was I, back in the day.”

Corrine tried to keep the surprise from her expression. The duchess had been a nurse?

“Drew also said you will be assisting him once a week,” the duchess continued. “Thank you. We can use all the help we can get. However, I do have a favor to ask.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“We could use more volunteers at the free clinics; a couple of hours a week is all I require. I know approaching you this way is forward, but my nephew sang your praises. I would also like to invite you to our next board meeting so you can see what the foundation does. If it interests you, we can use you on our committee.”

She had already decided to volunteer, but sitting on a committee? How could she refuse a duchess? She couldn’t. Besides, Corrine wished to do something worthwhile. Why not join a meaningful project that utilized her talents? “Doctor Hornsby has already spoken to me about the clinics, and I plan to volunteer. And I think I’d like to attend your next meeting very much.”

“Wonderful!” The duchess smiled. “I will send word next month. You are a dear. But now, I must resume my hostess duties. We will talk later, Baroness.” The duchess lightly touched her arm, then moved toward another group of ladies.

“Corrine, is that you?”

Corrine turned to find a petite woman staring at her. Maybe not all that petite, as Corrine was barely four inches over five feet, and this woman was only an inch or two shorter. But this lady looked familiar. Very familiar, indeed.

The woman placed her hands on her hips, looking thoroughly exasperated. “Oh, come on. I’m Celia Gillingham. Although I’m now the Countess of Winterwood, more’s the pity.”

Celia was married to an earl? “Celia! Can you forgive me? It has been too long since Miss Langston’s Finishing School.” Corrine was genuinely pleased to see her. Celia always possessed a sunny disposition despite the tragedy of losing her parents at the vulnerable age of ten years.

They kissed each other’s cheek. “Well, I have changed a little. I finally grew a few inches taller than five feet and lost most of that youthful plumpness.”

“When did you marry?” Corrine asked.

Celia took her arm and led her to a more private part of the room, half-hidden behind a massive fern. “I stayed at Miss Langston’s as long as I possibly could. I told you of my situation.”

Yes, Corrine recalled the tragic incident that had brought Celia to the finishing school. Celia’s parents had taken a moonlight trip along the east coast of England on the SS Princess Alice, where it had been struck by another ship. Over six hundred lives had been lost, including Celia’s parents. After that unspeakable tragedy, Celia had lived with her aunt, The Countess of Darrington. While she’d come to like her aunt well enough, her cousin, Troy Buckingham, Viscount Shinwell, had tormented her constantly. Celia even confessed he had tried to enter her bedroom at night more than once. After that, she’d been sent away to school and rarely visited.

Corrine nodded. “Yes, I remember. Aan untenable state of affairs.”

“Well, my uncle wasted no time marrying me off. I could have refused, but I did not want to return to that house as my cousin still lived there. So, I agreed. Winterwood is sixty-five now.”