Page 71 of The Sound of Seduction
Wendy nodded again, her fists curling against her lap. “And then they caught him climbing out of my room,” she whispered, the shame of it rushing through her anew. A fresh tear rolled down her cheek, and she buried her face in her hands. “They think I’m compromised.”
A beat of silence passed before Pippa spoke with a clarity that left no room for argument. “Well, nurses are always compromised, aren’t they? It’s expected because they see patients naked.”
“Pippa!” Bea spat.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Pippa said.
“No, not like—” Wendy’s breath shuddered as her composure cracked further. “I’m not like either of you. I’m not in society properly. I can disappear into the periphery, butyou twobelong there. For you, this matters.”
“It matters for you just as much,” Bea said.
“I’m not a lady who’s respected in society,” Wendy said, accepting a handkerchief from Pippa. “How odd,” she thought, “I’m usually the one carrying fresh towels. And now I need one.”
“You’re wrong,” Pippa said, directing her words more at Bea than at Wendy.
Pippa and Bea exchanged a deliberate nod, one that spoke volumes in a single glance. Bea leaned forward, a smile tugging her lips. “But you will be.”
“What do you mean?” Wendy asked wearily, unable to hide her confusion.
“Because tomorrow is the ball,” Pippa replied in a conspiratorial tone. “Princess Thea will be introduced… and you could be, too.”
“For what possible purpose?” Wendy’s voice broke, and she shook her head fervently. “I can’t be with Stan. You both know how dangerous everything is. If I am with him, it’s…?”
“And things change, Wendy. You’ve outgrown being a nurse to the Ton. They may not see it yet, but we will show them—Nick, Alfie, Andre, and Felix. You’re elevating your status at the ball; trust us.” Pippa received a nod of approval from Bea.
“There are two ways to rise in status: through marriage or respect,” Bea held her hands out as if offering Wendy two imaginary platters. “If you try to do it through marriage, you could become Stan’s princess.”
“But that would be all,” Pippa added.
Wendy furrowed her brows, momentarily forgetting to cry.
“So, there’s the other way: respect. Which few people can earn.” Bea glanced at her other palm as if the second imaginary platter contained all the answers.
“This is what you have already achieved, and it’s why you’ve outgrown your role.” Pippa placed a hand on her chest. “And oh, am I relieved. I should have seen it all along, and I’m so sorry I didn’t. You’re perfect for the position!” As the tears streamed silently, her lips couldn’t form what came next, the impossible weight of it pressing the air from her chest.
Chapter Thirty
The Langley estatewas all warmth and elegance as Wendy stepped into its front hall, the muted tones of rich blues and cream wrapping around her like a soft blanket. The air inside smelled faintly of beeswax and lavender, the kind of comforting domesticity that made her glad she had come, even if her heart hadn’t quite settled after leaving Harley Street. Pippa and Bea flanked her, their chatter bubbling ahead as a footman led them toward the drawing room.
Violet Langley, Countess of Langley, was already rising to greet them, her poised figure set against the backdrop of striking floor-to-ceiling window dressings. She wore a gown of soft pink. As Wendy expected, since she’d last seen her, the gentle swell of her belly was now unmistakable. She set her embroidery hoop aside with the efficiency of a woman who had better things to do than stitch apricot blossoms.
Bea rushed forward to kiss Violet’s cheek. “Dearest Violet, how radiant you are!” Her glance swept downward. “And you’re positively blooming.”
“I’m not particularly radiant at five months along,” Violet replied dryly, though her smile softened the words. She turned to Wendy, her warm hazel eyes crinkling with welcome. “Nurse Wendy, how kind of you to come. And as for you…” she aimed a kind teasing glance at Pippa. “I hardly dare guess what minor scandal has dragged you along.”
“Scandal.” Pippa snorted, brushing the accusation away with a flick of her wrist as she sank lazily into one of the rosewoodchairs. “I’ll have you know I’ve been outrageously tame… in the past week or so.”
Wendy blushed and smiled despite herself, but her nurse’s instincts kicked in as soon as Violet stepped closer, her hand delicately resting on her rounding belly. “And how are you feeling, my lady?” Wendy asked, her voice gentle but purposeful.
Violet chuckled softly and gestured for them to sit, though she herself remained standing, her energy betraying none of the fatigue so common to women in her condition. “Better than most expect, I think. The baby is quite active these past days. It’s as if it heard of my plans to attend the ball and began rehearsing a dance.” She smoothed her gown over her belly almost absently, a fondness softening the edges of her words. “And you, Nurse Wendy? I hope List’s upheavals have not troubled you further. Dr. Felix Leafley postponed my husband’s treatment for lack of material, which I know is due to List’s intercepting of gold from Transylvania. I’m glad to hear you saved our prince’s life. He’s the only one who can stop List if anyone can at all.”
Wendy stiffened. Not because Violet had spoken falsely—but because she had spoken too plainly.
The words “your prince” struck harder than they should. Wendy folded her hands more tightly in her lap, as if she could squeeze away the heat blooming in her chest. Violet couldn’t know what those words implied. What they risked.
She longed to say she hadn’t saved him—he had survived, yes, but not because of her. And even if she had, what did it matter if her presence near him might unravel everything else she had worked for?
Wendy opened her mouth to reply, but Bea, like an eager magpie, darted in. “We simply won’t speak of upheavals. Violet dear,” Bea’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “why are you not already in confinement? Surely, no ball is worth exposing yourself to the ton’s prying eyes.”
