Page 12 of The Beautiful Ones

“Four,” I added.

Cécile glared at both of us, then took a bite large enough to satisfy our combined demands.

By the time I had dressed her hair and fastened the first row of tiny buttons along the back of her gown, the messenger had gone, taking his exhausted horse and any possibility of easy answers with him.

No one came upstairs to explain the letter.

The household continued its preparations for the arriving guests, but the rhythm of the work had changed. Doors closed more softly than before, conversations stopped whenever Cécile or I entered a room, and Monsieur’s study remained locked long after the messenger’s departure. Madame crossed the front hall twice without correcting the placement of the flowers or criticizing the work of a single servant, and that uncharacteristic silence frightened everyone more effectively than shouting would have done.

Shortly before noon, Madame sent for me.

I found the morning-room door already open.

Monsieur and Madame had not yet noticed me.

“We cannot withdraw the invitation now,” Madame was saying.

Monsieur stood at the far window with a glass of brandy in one hand. “I am aware of that.”

“Then stop behaving as though I arranged this.”

“You approved it.”

“Before.”

The single word stopped him.

Madame stood beside the writing table, one hand gripping the edge.

“Before his name became something no one wished spoken at supper. Before Richmond turned against him. Before every woman with a calling card began pretending she had never admired him.”

“And yet the Fairhavens were invited.”

“At his recommendation.”

“Exactly.”

Madame lowered her voice, forcing me to lean slightly toward the doorway to hear.

“If we rescind the arrangements now, everyone will know why.”

“They already know Vale introduced them.”

“That is precisely the problem.”

Monsieur gave a humorless laugh.

“You think Augusta Dewey will not ask? Lavinia George? Half the county? We withdraw hospitality from Vale’s friends the moment he falls from society and they will invent ten scandals before luncheon.”

“They may already have done so.”

“Their rooms are prepared. Their journey arranged. Their arrival expected.”

Monsieur turned from the window.

“And now this.”

His gaze fell upon the letter lying on the table.