Page 21 of Dropping the Ball

“Wonderful,” Alden said.

He stood where he was, watching her, and Bernadette sat still, smiling up at him.

It was lovely and ghastly all at once. If she had half the courage that Muriel or Kat had, she would rise from her chair, throw the table aside, and fly into Alden’s arms, and damn the consequences.

The moment was broken by Mr. Smythe’s return, and this time, he was not alone.

“Lady Gladys to see you, my lord,” he said, sending a short, irritated glance to Lady Gladys herself as she stepped around him and made her way down the terrarium path.

Bernadette stood, but only because she did not like the idea of Lady Gladys being in a position of more power than her at that moment.

“Lord Alden, what a pleasure to see you,” Lady Gladys greeted them–or rather Alden, sparing only a slight, sideways glance for Bernadette–as if she herself were the lady of the house and Alden were a guest.

“Lady Gladys.” Alden stepped away from the table with a tight smile and reached for the hand Lady Gladys stretched out once she was close. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your call this morning?”

Lady Gladys sent a sour smile Bernadette’s way, as if she resented the implications of Alden’s use of the word “we”. “I have come to see how preparations for your ball are coming along,” she said, turning her full attention to Alden. “And to let you know that this morning I have sent twenty-odd invitations to people you simply must have in attendance.”

Bernadette felt as though one of the snakes had fallen out of the canopy of branches above her onto her head. “I beg your pardon?” she said.

“Invitations?” Alden asked a moment later. “Lady Bernadette is responsible for the invitations, and everything else about the ball.”

“Of course, of course,” Lady Gladys said, sitting at the table with a wave of her hand.

It just so happened that Mercy, one of the maids, brought a tray of tea in at just that moment. As soon as she set it onthe table, Lady Gladys helped herself to the cup that had been intended for Bernadette.

Alden frowned. “Two more cups, please, Mercy,” he said. He glanced across to Bernadette as if they’d suddenly found a viper in their camp and needed to proceed carefully.

It was a small consolation that Alden didn’t seem particularly fooled by Lady Gladys’s manners or her attempt to take charge. Bernadette sat gingerly across the corner of the table from the woman all the same.

“Might I have a list of the people you’ve sent invitations to?” she asked, folding her hands carefully on the table. “It would be strange for any of them to receive two invitations for the same ball.”

“Oh, I doubt you know these people, my dear,” Lady Gladys said, stirring two spoons of sugar into her tea. “They are quite above your level, I think.”

Bernadette forced herself to breathe to gather her patience. If it was a war Lady Gladys wanted, it was a war she would get. But Bernadette did not use the same tactics as she did.

“I’ve already received a response from the letter I sent to the Countess de Lieven, a friend of mine, asking which single ladies of thetonshe thinks would be most amenable to the event,” she said. “I’m certain we could include your additions to the final list of guests.”

Lady Gladys’s smug smile dropped. “You are acquainted with the Countess de Lieven?” she asked.

Bernadette smiled. “I am on friendly terms with all of the patronesses of Almack’s, yes.”

For a moment, Lady Gladys seemed outraged. Then her smile returned, more wolfish than ever. She glanced to Alden and said, “I’d no idea you’d hired such a well-connected councilor for your ball, Lord Alden.”

Both ladies glanced to Alden, as if it were up to him to decide which of them should have the upper hand.

Alden had only just taken his seat and squirmed as if he would rise again and flee. “Lady Bernadette has made it her life’s purpose to know and be loved by the finest personages in the land,” he said, smiling between the two women, his gaze lingering on Bernadette.

Bernadette would have smiled and basked in the praise if it hadn’t served as an excuse for Lady Gladys to sharpen her knives even more. “She is beloved beyond the kingdoms of Britannia as well, as I understand it,” she said, a cunning look coming to her eyes.

A chill slithered down Bernadette’s spine. Lady Gladys could not know of her family’s attachments, could she? It was all East Anglian business. No one in Wessex would concern themselves with it.

“I do not doubt it,” Alden said, looking like he might have grasped Bernadette’s hand, if the two of them had more of an understanding.

“I think you will approve of the guests I have invited to Lord Alden’s ball,” Lady Gladys said, smiling at Bernadette like she might stab her in the back the moment Bernadette looked away.

“I am certain I will,” Bernadette said.

“They will provide quite a diversion,” Lady Gladys went on, lifting her teacup and grinning at Bernadette over the porcelain before taking a sip.

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