Page 94 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“You’re the last person needing forgiveness,” Etty said, choking back a sob.
“Then let us never be strangers again,” Eleanor said. “I… Who’s this?”
Her eyes widened as the rest of the party climbed out of the carriage—Loveday first, followed by Florence holding baby Anna. Then she turned to the housekeeper.
“Mrs. Adams, I think we’ll be needing two more guest chambers prepared.”
“Oh, no, ma’am!” Loveday said. “Pardon me—I mean, Your Grace… We’re not guests. We’re…”
“If you’re friends of my sister, then you’re my guests,” Eleanor said.
“But Your Grace—” the housekeeper began, but Eleanor raised her hand.
“Mrs. Adams, these ladies will be tired from their journey. Miss…?” She glanced at Frances.
“Frannie Gadd, ma’am.”
“Very good. Miss Gadd, and…?” She looked toward Loveday, who dipped into a curtsey.
“Loveday Smith, ma’am—a-and my eldest, Florence, and baby Anna.”
Eleanor cast her gaze over Loveday and her children, and Etty flinched. Now her sister was a duchess, would she consider herself too grand for Loveday and her kind?
But Eleanor’s gaze settled on Loveday’s bandaged wrist. Her nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, and she stiffened and glanced toward Etty, a flicker of pain in her eyes. Then she blinked, and the pain disappeared as she smiled brightly at Loveday.
“I am determined,” she said. “One chamber for Miss Gadd, and another for Mrs. Smith and her children—I think the blue room would do for Mrs. Smith, if you’d see to it, Mrs. Adams?”
“Of course, ma’am.” The housekeeper dipped her head. “I’ll send Tilly and Sarah to tend to them.”
Eleanor placed a hand on the housekeeper’s arm. “Thank you,” she said, smiling. Then she took Etty’s hand once more. “Mrs. Adams will show you to your chamber, then, when you’ve taken your rest, I hope you’ll join us for tea.”
“Us?I-I thought you said your husband wasn’t at home,” Etty said.
“He’s not, never fear,” Eleanor said. “But it wouldn’t matter if he was. You’re my guest, and he must accept that. But I have another guest who is eager to see you again.”
“Who?”
Eleanor smiled, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “You’ll have to take tea with us to find out,” she said. “And you must bring Gabriel so he can give his expert opinion on my cook’s fruitcake.” She turned to Frances and Loveday. “You are welcome also. The drawing room has a wonderful view of the gardens.”
Loveday’s eyes widened, and she stepped back. “Oh, no, Your Grace, I couldn’t possibly—”
“You could,” Eleanor said, “but I shan’t impose on you if you’d rather take tea in your chamber.” Her gaze dropped to Loveday’s wrist once more. “You are quite safe here, Mrs. Smith—and free to do as you please.”
She offered her arm to Etty. “Come, sister,” she said. “Let us get you inside. We’ve been apart for two years, and I intend to make up for that.”
Etty took the proffered arm and let her sister lead her into the building.
On one count, her sister was wrong. The two of them hadn’t been apart for two years. They’d been apart for a lifetime—separated by their differences in character and the rules of Society that set women, even sisters, against each other.
But no more.
*
Etty stepped outof her bedchamber with Frances, who carried Gabriel in her arms. A clock struck four in the distance, followed by another, then another, until a chorus of chimes filled the air, before falling silent, leaving a faint echo that clung to the air before dissolving into the walls.
Etty descended the stairs, where a footman stood waiting.
“Miss Howard,” he said, bowing. “The duchess awaits you in the drawing room in the east wing. If you would follow me?”
