Page 12 of Black Widow

“Think nothing of it, Lady Everly. I have hundreds of gowns like it,” sheexaggerated.

The flash of annoyance that crossed Lady Everly’s face was the only satisfaction Amelia was likely to get. Normally she did not flaunt her wealth, but reminding the ton she possessed it might help to shield her. At the least, it might silence some of the tongues whispering she killed her husband for his money, as he had none outside of what she had providedhim.

Before Lady Everly could think of a reply, Amelia moved away. She retreated to the ladies’ withdrawing room, repairing her appearance as best shecould.

Lingering, she took advantage of the relative emptiness of the inner chamber to shore up her emotional defenses. Amelia had been aware that these parties would be a trial of endurance. She’d thought herself prepared, but, in truth, she was barely coping. At times like these, she wondered why she was subjecting herself to the slights and slurs of society, despite Crispin’sopinion.

The viscount was adamant Martin would not want her to lock herself away. He faulted her for her solitary nature. Crispin insisted she needed to mix with others, assuring her once the ton grew accustomed to her presence they would stop entertaining such dark suspicions. She merely needed to brazen itout.

There was a logic to his advice, but given Crispin’s repeated offers of marriage, she wondered at his motive. She knew he did not love her…but he did need to marry and produce an heir. Under the circumstances, it was quite natural he would want to marryher.

In this light, forcing her social rehabilitation served a dual purpose. His was not a large estate, but his title was old and venerable. His future wife could not be a socialpariah.

“Did you see her?” A loud nasal voice interrupted herthoughts.

“I saw what Lady Everly did. I could not believeit!”

“I can, and wonder she did not do worse. She is Mapleton’s cousin, afterall.”

Amelia turned, pressing herself against the wall next to the doorframe. Who was Mapleton and why was Lady Everly tormenting her on hisbehalf?

Peeking through the opening, she spotted two females in white muslin. Both appeared very young. She would have pegged them as green girls in the midst of their first season if not for the venom spewing from theirlips.

The taller hawk-nosed girl leaned down to her shorter rosy-cheeked companion. “Mapleton is planning on confronting her. He thinks it’s shameful she’s invited to all the functions. I can’t wait to see the look on her face!” A nasty gigglefollowed.

So Lady Everly’s attack would not be all she had to endure this night.And to think, the season is just beginning.How much of this would she be subjected to? Hadn’t losing Martin been badenough?

Ignoring the tremor that ran through her, Amelia inhaled deeply and picked up her skirts. She counted to a beat of three and then glided past the two debutantes, nodding at them coolly as she passed. Their mouths dropped open and the shorter one gasped, but she didn’t stop to speak tothem.

Amelia hoped Crispin had finished his dance with Miss Chisholm. They needed to leave. She was officially at the end of hertether.

The crowd prevented her from reaching the dance floor with any speed. By the time she reached the spot where Lady Everly had accosted her, sweat was trickling down her spine. She felt as if she had pushed her way through a hostile mob. The stares and sneers had followed her across the entire ballroom. Any minute now, they would start throwing their champagne glasses in lieu ofstones.

Her composure hanging from a thread, Amelia scanned the dance floor for Crispin’s blond head. There were several men of that description, and she was having trouble identifying him. Her small stature worked against her there. Pivoting on her heel, she was turning to head toward the balcony when a hand grabbed her arm—the part bruised by SirClarence.

The unfamiliar black-haired man seemed to take satisfaction in her wince, although he had to be aware his hold was not tight enough to bepainful.

“Madame, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mapleton,” he saidcoldly.

Smiling sweetly, she jerked her arm out his grip. “I would say it’s a pleasure, but you are a stranger to me,sir.”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “I was acquainted with your husband atAbingdon.”

Amelia hummed, her temper flaring. “Really? He spoke warmly of his schoolmates, but he never mentionedyou.”

The skin above Mapleton’s snowy-white cravat began to redden. “We werefriends.”

“Is that so? How odd. Your name is completely unfamiliar to me, and he spoke often of his friends fromschool.”

It was the truth. Martin had never mentioned anyone of that name or this man’sdescription.

The man shuffled his feet. “Yes, well, the fact remains I did attend school with him. I was in the year ahead,” he said, the self-righteous tone losing a littlesteam.

Mapleton was clearly annoyed at having his public set-down interrupted by little details, like having to explain who the hell hewas.

“But you were not close friends,” Amelia asserted, cocking her head. “Or I would have received a note from you when he passed,” sheadded.

The skin above Mapleton’s cravat was a dull shade of purplenow.

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