The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,10

time they’d known each other, Lucinda had learned that Edith was very good at feigning sincerity and adding a dollop of pity while undermining a young woman’s reputation. And what else did a woman have other than her reputation? Was Lucinda as shallow as Edith? As mean-spirited? There was no doubt that if she displeased Edith, she would be targeted just the same.

When she and her aunt had begun to venture into Philadelphia society, Lucinda had been flattered that well-known socialite Edith Fairchild had endeavored to meet her and include her in her crowd of friends. But sometimes the gossip and inuendo and jealousy that typified that crowd—her circle of acquaintances now as well—made her want to hole up in her suite and not venture out to meet them ever again. There was only so much spitefulness and sly, demeaning words a woman could condone or ignore. Wouldn’t it be refreshing to hear some plain speaking? Or to converse with someone who was completely honest?

Like Mr. James Thompson.

Damn him to everlasting Hades for invading her thoughts. For picturing those broad shoulders, green eyes, and that chipped tooth that made her want to run her tongue over her own teeth. Edith was still plotting when dessert arrived.

“You know, if Mr. Kingley is interested in you, he will separate himself from Miss Hershey, and if he doesn’t, you don’t really want him anyway, do you?”

Edith stared at her. “That is hardly the point, though, is it? Mary Hershey must be made to understand who sets the rules and why it is in her best interest to follow them.”

Lucinda smiled. “Of course,” she said and was rewarded with a grin from her friend and hopefully an end to a conversation that was suddenly disturbing. “Where will we shop for bonnets today?”

“If my gown is ready at Fulbright’s, we could shop there. I think their hat collection is excellent.”

“A new gown?”

“I wanted something very special for the Pendergast ball. The sons of the family are college men and will have college brothers attend, I imagine. My mother said that would be a fine family to align with, even though their nephew, Alexander, married some loose woman from a disreputable family. His parents must be furious. I heard the bride and groom snuck away before they could be stopped,” Edith said and rose from her seat. “I know the sister, Annabelle. Her prospects will diminish because of it, even with wealthy parents and a pretty face.”

Lucinda had not realized that Edith was well acquainted with the Pendergast family or that she’d received an invitation. As she had understood it, her and her aunt’s invitation to the ball had come because Aunt Louisa was interested in serving on the Philadelphia Hospital committee with Mrs. Pendergast. Lucinda was surprised that Edith had not heard about the dance she’d shared Elspeth Pendergast’s brother since she knew the family well enough to be invited to Nathan and Isadora Pendergast’s ball. But it was only a matter of time until she did hear.

Edith kept up a tirade most of the afternoon while they shopped, and Lucinda had never been so glad to see the portico of her home and Laurent waiting by the door. She climbed the steps to her rooms thinking over the day and wondered how long it would be until someone mentioned Thompson’s comments to Edith. Would she then be the subject of hideous and unfair gossip? She imagined that she would be. She looked up as she neared her door to see her aunt speaking to her from only a few feet away. She’d been lost in her thoughts and had not even heard her approach.

“Lucinda, dear, how was your afternoon?”

She stared at her aunt—her mother, to be perfectly honest, as she had no recollection of the woman who birthed her. She was tired and out of sorts and wondering where she would fit in, if she ever would.

Aunt Louisa cocked her head and then opened the door to her rooms. “Come sit down. I think some tea would do you good. Or would you prefer to be alone?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll ask Giselle to get us a tray.” She found her maid in the dressing room attached to her bathing room.

She came back to her sitting room, where Aunt Louisa had made herself comfortable near the fire. Lucinda seated herself, toed off her slippers, and pulled her feet beside her on the chintz-covered chair. They waited quietly until the tea arrived and Louisa