come to London. Her eyes remained on her lap. She had no intention of satisfying her aunt’s curiosity.
“I was surprised, to say the least, that you’d made her acquaintance, as well as that of her daughters,” Aunt Agnes continued. “Only the eldest has made her debut. Quite recently and somewhat quietly. I did wonder if there was something wrong with the girl. Is she lame? Scarred in some way? Has she already been ruined?” Her aunt watched Margaret’s face for any sign Margaret would collapse under her regard and tell her everything.
Margaret focused her attention on a stray thread where she’d mended the pocket in her skirt.
“I don’t recall the girl’s name.” Aunt Agnes rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as if trying to remember. Another ploy. Her aunt likely had all three of the duchess’s daughters and Miss Nelson already catalogued in her mind along with their character deficits.
Margaret said nothing.
“She thinks quite highly of you.”
“How kind of the duchess.” Margaret finally spoke lest their meeting go on for hours.
“Apparently, Her Grace grew enamored of your playing when you accompanied Lady Patson’s daughter at a party given some time ago. At least, according to her.”
Lady Patson was a close acquaintance of her aunt’s, another overly critical matron of the ton who doled out expectations and ruined those who didn’t meet them. Margaret had been forced to accompany Lady Patson’s daughter, Gertrude, as she sang during a small event in hopes the girl could impress Lord Thackery. Margaret had reluctantly agreed. She’d heard Gertrude ‘warming up her voice,’ and she’d sounded little better than a squawking crow. Gertrude sang, to the horror of Lady Patson’s guests and Lord Thackery, for nearly an hour. Aunt Agnes had chastised Margaret during the entire ride home as ‘deliberately playing too well’ in order to eclipse poor Gertrude.
“I am pleased she enjoyed hearing me play,” Margaret said.
Aunt Agnes leaned forward, turban wobbling as if about to snap her aunt’s thin neck. “I don’t recall the duchess’s presence at Lady Patson’s. I can’t imagine how she escaped my notice at such a small affair. Her eldest daughter—”
“Lady Andromeda.” Margaret finally lifted her chin. She was growing weary of this game. Lady Masterson’s garden party was on the horizon and Margaret not only needed to explain how she came to be invited, but she also had to find something appropriate to wear. Difficult when her aunt allowed her only the barest minimum of pin money. And there was the matter of attending the garden party, preferably without her aunt.
She looked at the tendrils of the ostrich feather which seemed to be drifting toward her. Poor ostrich, to give up a feather only to have it land on her aunt’s head.
“Not only has the duchess requested your presence on Tuesdays and Thursdays to play piano and accompany her younger daughter, but she is insisting you attend a garden party with her and Lady Andromeda.”
“I see,” Margaret said quietly, as if awaiting further instruction. She became certain Welles was behind his stepmother’s request. Hope stirred in her heart. Did it mean he’d agreed to help her with Carstairs after all?
“Lady Masterson’s garden party. I assured Her Grace,” Aunt Agnes shook her head, “you’d not been invited because I would also have received an invitation, but she insisted you had been and grew concerned your invitation had been lost.” Her aunt drew her sticklike figure up, boney shoulders pointing toward the ceiling. “Imagine my surprise when Henderson informed me an invitation for you had indeed been delivered only this morning.” Her aunt said nothing more for several long moments, waiting for Margaret to speak, her lips thin and tight.
Margaret wasn’t certain what she could say. Clearly, her aunt smelled a rat. Margaret had to force her lips from forming a smile. She doubted Lord Welles had ever been compared to a rat.
“How did you make the acquaintance of Lady Masterson? And please, don’t tell me she was also in attendance at Lady Patson’s. Lady Patson wouldn’t have such a scandalous woman in her home.”
Margaret shrugged. “Perhaps I was included because the duchess wished me to be. I do not know Lady Andromeda but possibly she wishes us to become acquainted. Do you not wish me to be friends with the daughter of a duke? I would think it would be looked well upon.” She schooled her features into one of tentative confusion.
Her aunt’s face flushed an alarming shade of purple as her eyes searched Margaret for any sign of