Page 81 of A Winter Scandal

“Their relationship is … complicated.”

“So I gathered. Is he really Matthew’s father?”

“I think not, despite their looks.” Thea shook her head.

“I understand—it is not your tale to tell.”

“You’re right,” Thea responded, grateful for her friend’s social acumen. “In any case, I do not think Lord Rawdon will be here for the party. Morecombe told me that he had left town.”

“Oh.”

Thea was surprised to see that her friend looked a trifle crestfallen. “Are you sorry? I would have thought you would have been relieved.”

“Well, he does seem to be a rather … unsettling guest to have at one’s party,” Damaris agreed, with a mischievous grin. “But, then, he would add a certain element of excitement. And he is handsome.”

“You think he’s handsome?” Thea was again surprised.

“Why, yes. Do you not?” Damaris looked back at Thea in equal surprise.

“I hadn’t really thought about it.” Thea considered the notion. Lord Rawdon could hardly compare to Gabriel’s vivid dark looks, of course, but she could see how some women might be attracted to him. “He is very unusual. Such pale hair and those light blue eyes.”

“Yes, but his eyes are bright, as well—they make me think of the center of a fire, where it is hottest. I imagine he is a hard man to lie to.”

“No doubt.”

“I wouldn’t say he is a comfortable man, mind you,” Damaris said with a smile. “But he has a very arresting sort of face.”

“Damaris! Do you like Lord Rawdon?”

Damaris laughed. “Goodness, no. I don’t think he is the sort of man one likes, do you? But he is … interesting. Still, I suspect the party will do quite well without his presence.”

“I am sure it will. I was thinking of making a new gown for it.” Thea smiled at her friend. “I have to confess I had an ulterior motive for coming to call on you today. I hoped that you might be interested in a trip to the haberdashery in Bynford one day this week. They had some bolts of material that might do for an evening dress.”

“Of course I would be interested. I had been thinking of making a trip to Cheltenham if the weather permitted. It would be marvelous if you would accompany me. But I have a better idea for your gown. I thought of it on Christmas, but I haven’t had a chance to tell you. I want to give you one of my ball gowns. All it would take is a bit of alteration, and my Edith can make any changes it needs.”

Thea demurred, but Damaris was adamant, taking her by the hand and pulling her down the hall to Damaris’s chamber. She rang for her maid, and the woman soon pulled out the dress in question and laid it across the bed. Thea sucked in her breath. The sleek gown of dark red satin was at once luxurious yet gracefully simple.

“Oh, Damaris … this is lovely. But, surely you would want to wear it?”

The other woman shook her head. “I have a gown of peacock blue—which perfectly matches my mask, so I must wear that. I have only worn this gown once. Truthfully, ’tis not the best shade for me. It is more on the rust side of red, and I look better in a bluish tone of that color. That is why I thought of you; it is perfect with your hair. Only look.”

Damaris gestured toward her maid, who quickly held the gown up to Thea’s shoulders and turned her toward the mirror. Thea looked at herself and felt a sudden, almost physical hunger for this gown. Damaris was right. The deep red, with its amber undertone, picked out the reddish highlights of her brown hair and warmed her skin. She could not help but think, too, how perfectly the garnets Gabriel had given her would match the dress. Not, of course, that she would wear the earrings; it would be improper, even if no one knew that Gabriel had given them to her.

“But this is far too valuable.” Thea wrapped her arm around the waist of the dress even as she made her demurral, with her other hand holding the neckline up to her chest. Edith, the maid, stepped aside quickly, leaving Thea to gaze at her reflection alone. “And you might want to wear it some other time.”

“No, I don’t think I will. It truly does not suit me, so it will just languish in the back of my wardrobe.”

Thea cast another look at herself and added reluctantly, “But it is red. It wouldn’t be appropriate, really.”

“To wear red?” Damaris’s eyebrows shot upward, and a faint look of hauteur touched her face. “I wore it. Do you think that it was improper of me?”

“No, you goose, and you needn’t put on that aristocratic look for my benefit,” Thea retorted. “I am sure you looked absolutely lovely in it, and I doubt anyone thought anything wrong with it. But you are not the vicar’s sister. They will say it is scandalous for me to wear such a dress. And they will say the neckline is too low.”

“They, they, they …” Damaris said crossly, coming over to stand by her friend. She looped her arm around Thea’s shoulders and looked into the mirror, too. “Who cares what they say? It wouldn’t be anyone but some old tabby who is green with jealousy, that is all. What matters, my dear, is what Lord Morecombe will say when he sees it.”

“Oh, Damaris …” Thea met her friend’s gaze in the mirror. “I can’t … I mean, I don’t … I won’t think that way.”

“Why ever not?” Damaris turned sideways to look at her friend. “Really, Thea, anyone with two eyes can see that his lordship is smitten with you.”