Page 87 of A Winter Scandal

“Yes, of course.” Emily’s smile wavered a bit, but she went on, “It must be quite … reassuring to have known everyone here all your life. I grew up in London, you see. I am a bit of a fish out of water here. I fear that perhaps I have made the wrong impression on you. So I hoped we might start again. We are, after all, cousins, are we not?”

Thea softened. She had, perhaps, judged the woman too harshly. Chesley must be quite a change from London. And the circumstances under which Lady Wofford had met Thea had been decidedly peculiar; she could not blame her, she supposed, for looking at Thea rather askance.

“Of course.” Thea offered a more genuine smile to her unexpected guest. “Would you like some tea?”

Thea showed her to the sitting room, then popped into the kitchen to ask Mrs. Brewster to bring the tea tray. She suspected that Lady Wofford found it odd, too, that Thea had not simply rung for a servant. Thea settled down on the chair across from the other woman, and silence descended on them.

Finally Thea said, “I hope you are enjoying your stay in Chesley.”

“Indeed, Lord Morecombe is an excellent host. Of course, he and Lord Wofford have known each other since they were children. He comes from an excellent family.”

Thea made some murmur of agreement.

“Do you know his family?” Emily asked after another short silence.

“No, I have not had the pleasure.”

“His sister is a lovely girl. I was quite surprised when she became engaged to Lord Rawdon. Very long lineage, of course, but, well … somewhat suspect, nevertheless. I am sure you know what I mean; you are one of the Bainbridges, after all.”

“One of the lesser branches, I’m afraid.” Thea managed not to add anything sharper.

“Oh, dear, have I offended you? Are you a friend of Lord Rawdon?”

“He has not offered me a reason to dislike him. I cannot say that I know him well.”

“Of course.” Lady Wofford glanced around, and Thea suspected that she was counting down the minutes until she could politely leave. Thea was rather counting them, as well.

Fortunately, Mrs. Brewster brought in the tea tray, and they were able to expend a few minutes on the ritual of tea before the silence became awkward again.

“How is the … um … child?” Lady Wofford asked. “The one you found in the church? Such a remarkable thing. I am not sure I have ever heard the like.”

“Yes, it was most unusual. He is well. Would you like to see him?”

Alarm touched Lady Wofford’s face and was quickly covered. “Oh, my, no, no reason to disturb him. I gather no one in the village saw who left him there.”

“No. No one that we have found.”

“Well, we must not dwell on such unpleasant topics. Do you plan to attend Mrs. Howard’s Twelfth Night party? Sir Myles and Lord Morecombe seem to be quite looking forward to it.”

“Yes, my brother and I will be there. Will you and Lord Wofford attend, as well?”

“If we are still here, I suspect we will. No doubt it will be most entertaining. However, I know that Lord Fenstone is most eager for us to return to the Park. Such a lovely place, even in the winter. I believe you have been there?”

“Yes, a few times.”

“A beautiful estate.” Lady Wofford’s smile was a more genuinely pleased one than Thea had seen on her face before. “Now, there is an elegant ballroom. And the long gallery—I enjoy strolling there and looking at all the former earls and countesses.”

This seemed an odd pastime to Thea, but she refrained from saying so. She merely smiled and nodded during the woman’s detailed description of the gown she would wear to the Twelfth Night ball if they remained in town. Thea found it a great relief when Emily made her polite good-byes a few minutes later. Thea arose from her seat, hoping that the movement did not look too much like a leap for joy. She saw the woman to the door, helping her on with her pelisse and handing her the muff and hat. When Lady Wofford at last started down the path toward her carriage, Thea closed the door and leaned back against it with a sigh of relief.

Lady Wofford had been more pleasant, it was true, but the result had been, well, boring. Thea could not help but wonder if Lady Wofford’s style of conversation was typical of the ladies of the ton. Was Lady Wofford a true example of her breed? If so, Thea thought with some dismay, nothing could demonstrate more clearly the enormous gulf that lay between her world and Gabriel’s. He might enjoy Thea while he was here, but his real life, the one that awaited him back in London, would have no place for her.

Gabriel strode past the ruins of the abbey, glad to be off his horse after three straight days of riding, broken only by going into inns to question the innkeepers. He had stopped at the Priory only long enough to stable his mount and clean up before he set out for the vicarage. He was a trifle stiff and tired, but none of that weighed against the hunger to see Thea.

If anyone had told him a year ago that he would miss any woman as much as he had missed Thea the past few days, he would have laughed. Much as he enjoyed the company of women, never had one’s absence caused him more than a twinge of regret or loneliness. After all, there had always been another woman to take her place, whether she be a lady or a lightskirt. Never before had he sat by himself in front of a fireplace of an evening mooning over a woman, instead of going to the tavern to entertain himself with drink and a hand of cards—and probably a tavern wench for his bed, as well.

Each evening of his journey, he had gone into the public room of the inn to have an ale and ask the patrons if they had seen Jocelyn or Hannah. But invariably he found himself thinking what Thea would say about this tavern guest or that and what he would answer in reply. He wanted to tell her what he had done that day and what he had learned. Any attempts at cards or dice soon palled, and the tavern wenches seemed much too dull-witted for him to enjoy flirting with them. Once he had discovered all the information he could, he soon went up to his bed.

Absurd as it seemed, his time with Thea appeared to have spoiled him for anyone else’s company. The loneliness and the boredom were bad enough, but worst of all, he could not keep from lusting after her. The rides from village to village left him with ample time to think, and most of his thoughts consisted of recalling the all-too-brief occasions when he had made love to Thea. These were broken up primarily by visions of coupling with her in the future, along with a smattering of innovative ideas concerning ways to get her alone. As a result, he had spent almost his entire trip in frustrated arousal.