Page 39 of Of Fate and Phantoms
"Pity." He strode off.
I smiled at his broad back as he retreated down the stairs. I wouldn't be jealous of Lady Harcourt if she flirted with him. I knew that to my bones. The only thing that would make me jealous would be ifheflirted withher.
I waited in the drawing room with Gus and Seth, a sherry glass cradled in my hands. Seth handed a brandy to Lincoln when he re-entered a few minutes later. "Well?" I asked. "What did she say?"
"Not much," he said, standing by the fireplace. "I gather her unhappiness is a combination of living with Buchanan and the way her friends are now treating her since discovering she was a dancer."
"Living with Buchanan would be enough to drive anyone to despair," Seth said.
"Or drink," Gus added, saluting with his glass.
"At least she got an invitation to the ball," I said. "Not all of her friends are shunning her."
Seth shook his head. "Lady Hothfield told me she only invited Julia at the request of one of the prince's friends, a Sir Ignatius Swinburn."
"I fail to see how that is a problem."
"Swinburn is a fat, old cad with foul breath and disgusting manners. He treats women like whores, discarding them when he tires of them, and he quickly tires. Most ladies of quality steer well clear of him, but some widows are desperate enough to make themselves available, hoping it will put them in the prince's path. It never does. The prince already has his favorites and doesn't care for his friends' discarded mistresses."
"How'd you hear all that?" Gus asked.
"It's amazing what some women will tell you when they believe themselves in love with you." He glanced at me. "Don't tell Alice I said that."
Gus shook his head. "You toffs are a strange lot. Glad I weren't born into your class."
"My class is glad of it, too."
"So we can assume from what you say that Lady Harcourt is desperate enough to throw herself at Swinburn," I said. "That's why he specifically requested her presence."
"I think so."
"And perhaps he tired of her already."
Seth lifted one shoulder. "Or he didn't take any notice of her the night of the ball, despite asking for her to be present. The fellow is a turd. It's possible he wanted to see her there so he could toy with her; dangle a carrot in front of her face, so to speak, then take it away. I wouldn't put it past him."
"He sounds utterly despicable."
"He is."
"I feel sorry for Lady Harcourt."
"Don't," all three men said.
Lincoln finished his brandy and set the glass on the sideboard. "I have the general's paperwork to look over tonight. Send someone up with food and I'll eat as I work."
I almost followed him but hung back, warring with myself.
"Charlie?" Gus asked. "You still thinking 'bout Lady H?"
"No. About Leisl."
They both looked to the door through which Lincoln had just exited. "You going to talk to him about her?" Gus said.
"Yes. Someone should, but do either of you dare?"
"Blimey, no."
Seth nodded at my sherry. "Drink up. You're going to need it."
