Page 36 of Love Unraveled
Long after he left, she sat and stared at the embers in the grate. Stratton had a point about Gaston. Gaston’s wariness of Laurence being the reason he’d hesitated to contact her had sounded exactly like what it was, an excuse. She was sure Gaston was strategizing. But why? Was it for her attention? Or was there a larger game at play? She hoped it was the first, but even if she did not like what she might find, she was determined to find out. For, despite her longing for him, her loyalty was to her country and the memory of her parents. She would ferret out the truth before she let her heart proceed any further. She was strong. She could do it. She was, after all, a master of charades.
Chapter Twenty-Five
So little pains do the vulgar take in the investigation of truth, accepting readily the first story that comes to hand.
—Thucydides,History of the Peloponnesian War
“You have madethe papers…again,” Elizabeth said. “All of them.” She twirled her parasol and looked at Sophia expectantly.
“Oh, do tell,” Catherine said. “I’ve been far too busy with Daniel to keep up with the gossips.”
The three of them had not been together since Catherine’s soiree, and Sophia was thoroughly enjoying their reliable companionship. No intrigues, no underlying meanings in their words, no hidden pasts. “What have I done now?” she asked, smiling pleasantly at the group of women who passed them on the right. It was a beautiful afternoon for a stroll in the park.
“She has publicly rebuffed Lord S.”
“No!” Catherine stopped and turned to Sophia. “You did?”
Sophia pursed her lips contemplatively but did not successfully suppress a smile. “It is true.”
Catherine clapped her hands happily, and Sophia laughed. She knew neither Catherine nor Elizabeth was fond of the duke, but their unrestrained elation was unexpected.
“What happened?” Catherine scooped Sophia’s arm and leaned in playfully as they started to stroll again. “You can tell me.”
“According to the papers, she has exchanged him for a younger man, a…gasp…Frenchman.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Catherine hugged Sophia’s arm tight and let her go.
“I am sorry to disappoint you,mie amiche, but that part of the story is not true.” Sophia did not like her friends’ crestfallen faces. “But I do not think I will renew my acquaintance with the duke.” They both cheered instantly. “You dislike him so much?”
Catherine and Elizabeth looked at each other, then nodded at Sophia.
“I don’t know whether to slap you both or kiss you. Should you not have been cheering me on? I would be a duchess, no?”
Elizabeth shuddered dramatically, while Catherine made a face.
Sophia laughed. “At least I know you are not interested in me for my influence in society,” she said. Elizabeth held equal ranking to Sophia, and Catherine would one day also be a countess, but a duchess held more sway than all three of them together.
“You would make a splendid duchess,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe we could find you another duke?”
“No, we won’t.” Catherine tapped Elizabeth’s hand. “She has a Frenchman.”
“Oh, that’s right. However could I have forgotten?” Elizabeth grinned at Sophia, and Sophia slowly shook her head.
“I do nothavea Frenchman.” Sophia adjusted her bonnet, eyeing them from underneath its brim.
“But he did conveniently happen to be there when you rebuked the duke? At a private ball no less?”
“It was simple coincidence.” Sophia waved her hand dismissively, although she, too, wondered how he’d managed to secure an invitation. The fact he had such connections added weight to her suspicions.
“Then there’s your dancing with thenot-yourFrenchman…and I quote…‘like a butterfly newly freed.’” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, and Catherine laughed, clearly enjoying the teasing.
“Well, Gaston was masterful on the dance floor,” Sophia said, laughing at the foolish gossip and her friends’ amusement. Although, in truth, she had felt free in his arms. Unlike the duke, Gaston had not chastised her or frowned upon her joy.
“Gaston now, is it?” Elizabeth teased.
“Evil. Both of you. Let us go look at the swans.” Sophia steered them off the path toward the water, grateful neither had noticed the duke and his ensemble approaching from the opposite direction. She’d no desire for a scene on this lovely afternoon. Both Elizabeth and Catherine dropped the subject of Gaston, and they enjoyed another hour of fresh air and new gossip before tiring and returning to their separate homes.
When she arrived at the town house, she found the entrance filled with a virtual garden of flowers, and Harris fretting about where she would like them to go. Excitement raced through her until she read the card. It was not Gaston. It was the duke expressing his sincerest apologies. While it was a surprising gesture, she doubted its veracity. Still, she was no fool. A duke as a friend was a far greater thing than a duke as an enemy. She would do well to tread carefully with Salinger.
