man. Elspeth had married well, and not because he was wealthy and from a powerful and influential family. He was singularly focused on Elspeth’s happiness, and nothing made his sister more content than seeing her family safe and happy. James looked between the two of them, now smiling at each other. There was love in the world. There was devotion like his parents had known. But why would he bind himself to one woman? He was far too pleased spending his time with lots of different women.
Lucinda was furious. By the time she reached her suite of rooms overlooking the gardens at the back of their mansion, she was seething, and she was not sure who she was angrier with, her father or the street fighter. How dare he insinuate that she was somehow bound to him! That he had gained her affections! What idiocy! He was nothing to her, even if visions of their dance had kept her awake long into the night, the feel of his hand at her waist making her flop from one side of the mattress to the other.
“Miss Lucinda?” her maid, Giselle, queried from the doorway of her dressing room. “Would you like any particular dress laid out for your luncheon?”
She had almost forgotten that she’d committed to visiting with Edith Fairchild for a meal and perhaps some shopping. She turned a calm face toward her maid. “Lay out the lavender silk and tell Mr. Laurent to have the carriage to ready at eleven.” Perhaps an outing would ease her anger and divert her thoughts.
“Oh, your dress is delightful! How stylish you always are! You outshine your old friend in every way,” Edith said a few hours later as the Fairchild butler took Lucinda’s coat.
“How silly you are being,” Lucinda said quickly, the conversation having been repeated nearly every time they met. “You know you are the most beautiful debutante Philadelphia has ever seen.”
Edith shrugged, looking as if the compliment were her due, and smiled coyly. “You are too sweet,” she said, pursing her lips near each of Lucinda’s cheeks and wrapping her fingers around her arm. “Now come, dearest. We will have a lovely meal and maybe venture out to the shops. I am in desperate need of a new hat.”
She joined Edith in a small dining room with a table placed near large windows, now letting in a weak winter sun. But it was warm and comfortable from the blaze in the massive marble fireplace nearby. The table was set with starched white linen, crystal, and silver. Lucinda listened to her friend with half an ear as the servant shook out her napkin and filled the cut-crystal glass with lemonade.
“That miserable girl, I hate her, I just hate her!” Edith said. “For her to say what she said! It’s dastardly!”
“Oh no,” Lucinda said, having no idea who her friend was talking about. But she would if Edith held true to form.
“Miss Mary Hershey is the devil! She was flirting with Mr. Kingley at the museum opening, batting her lashes, laughing at everything he said, practically rubbing herself on him. He was ignoring her, of course, as I was across the room from him and could see everything that happened.”
“Oh dear! Right in front of you!” Lucinda said and looked up from her meal.
“And then later she was talking to some people very near me and said that Mr. Kingley would be meeting her at the park for a walk as soon as the weather was fair. She spoke loudly enough that I could hear everything!”
“I’m so sorry, Edith. I know you were coming to like him.”
Edith tilted her head, holding a bite of salmon on her fork halfway to her mouth. “Like him?”
“Yes. Mr. Kingley. You said the last time we met that—”
“I don’t like him any more or any less than I do anyone I am considering.”
“Oh. Then you are not upset?”
“Yes, I’m upset! I’m upset at that witch, Mary Hershey. Let us make plans as to how I shall put her in her place. One would think that shocking red hair would be enough to keep her apart from our crowd, but she insinuates herself all of the time!” Edith leaned over the table. “What do you think if I start a rumor that she was being overly friendly with Simon Wurtzburg? Maybe she’d been seen kissing him, or even more!”
Lucinda stared at her friend. She could easily imagine her dropping hints about just such a rumor. In the short