Upon his return, he shuffled some cards around, so that he would sit beside Leah, and Phoebe would provide a buffer between Leah and Dorothy. Jonathan, meanwhile, would be seated on the other side of his wife. The rearrangement would undoubtedly send Mrs. Dibney, in particular, into apoplexy, but Leah had to smile at the directness of her pretend suitor. He had not even hesitated.
“I still do not trust him,” Phoebe murmured, struggling to hide a smile of her own, “but that was rather chivalrous of him. Irritating for the hosts, but they shall just have to endure it. As for Jonathan and his wife—they had better hope there is no watercress soup served.”
Leah took her seat, praying that Jonathan and Dorothy would not make an appearance, forgoing the event entirely. “I think it would be best if we ignored them, should they attend.”
“We shall see,” Phoebe replied. “If they behave themselves, so shall I. If they do not, bad behavior cannot go unpunished.”
Leah took a few deep breaths as she sat and waited, watching the rest of the guests take their seats around the table. Jonathan and Dorothy were not among them, and before long, two footmen closed the doors to the dining room as Mr. and Mrs. Dibney stood up to make their welcome speech. The latter narrowed her eyes at the mischievous trio and the empty chairs beside them, pursing her lips in disapproval, but as her husband began to speak, she returned her attention to more pressing matters.
They are not coming!Leah exhaled a slow, victorious sigh of relief.
“It is my great honor to welcome you all to our humble gathering to celebrate the beginning of the London season and the promise of a warm, hearty and entertaining winter,” Mr. Dibney said, his cheeks already rather rosy as if he had supped a brandy or two before the evening began. “This dinner party has become something of a tradition, and it is the night I cherish the most, for you are all dear friends, and I—”
The dining room door swung open, revealing a windswept pair. A dramatic entrance for a wretched man who thrived upon inconveniencing others, and though Mr. Dibney hurried to welcome the latecomers with a “Come in, come in, we have not yet begun,” Mrs. Dibney did nothing to hide her condemnation, scowling in full view of the table.
I know precisely how you feel,Leah lamented. She supposed she should have known that last week’s ball would not be the last time she ever saw her former betrothed. He was always going to make sure their paths crossed again, for how else would he be able to torment her, three years after ruining her life?
CHAPTERTEN
For the first two courses, a tenuous truce allowed Leah to eat in relative peace, her comfort assured by Nathaniel’s rearrangement of the place-cards. Leah had felt the prickle of Jonathan staring at her now and again, but he was too many chairs away to make any unpleasant remarks, disguised in a soft, concerned tone. Dorothy seemed equally annoyed at being so close to Leah, concentrating upon her food with an almost mad determination. Watercress soup had never been so diligently spooned.
“Delicious, is it not?” Nathaniel asked, finishing the first fish course with a dab of a napkin to his lips.
Leah nodded. “Exceptional. It always is.”
“You attend this party often, then?”
She dabbed her own lips. “Every year since my debut. Mrs. Dibney used to be Phoebe’s governess before she married Mr. Dibney, the youngest son of Baron Waverley, and Phoebe invited me the first year, so it has become a tradition of ours.” She lowered her voice. “Do not ask me why Jonathan receives an invitation, though. If I had my wish, he would not be invited anywhere.”
“Quite right.” Nathaniel nodded, sitting back as he sipped his wine. “He is the very worst sort of gentleman to attend society gatherings, for I remember he would always turn the conversation toward business. Namely, his, and how much everyone was willing to invest if he were to draw up the contracts. It rather sours the enjoyment of an evening when there is one man who can only speak of money and commerce.”
Leah stifled a chuckle. “I almost feel sorry for his wife.”
“Goodness, yes, we all must pity her. She must have to visit the physician often for her poor ears after constantly having them talked off by him.” Nathaniel flashed a mischievous grin at the same moment that Phoebe leaned in to whisper in Leah’s ear.
“I do not feel well, Leah,” she said, her brow slicked with sweat, her ghoulish complexion positively deathly. “I think the watercress began my decline, and the fish has… ensured it.” She covered her mouth with her hand, a strange, hiccupping sound bubbling out of her throat. “Goodness, I must leave.”
“Shall I come with you?” Leah asked, her stomach churning as ifshewas the unwell one. “I must. Come, I shall take you to your aunt’s.”
Phoebe waved the offer away. “Youhaveto stay, or Mrs. Dibney shall never forgive me, and we will never be invited again. Please, explain my malady to her and grovel if you must.” She swallowed loudly. “This is my favorite night of the year.”
“At least allow me to see you to your carriage,” Leah urged, and Phoebe relented.
The two women rose to their feet and made their way around the oval-shaped table, heading for the door. Mrs. Dibney noticed the exodus and frowned questioningly.
She is feeling sick,Leah mouthed in reply, touching a hand to her stomach.
Rather than anger, Mrs. Dibney looked deeply concerned, rising from her chair to join the two women in making their way out of the fine apartments. She caught up with the friends in the reception hall where Phoebe waited restlessly for her pelisse to be brought, her complexion tinged with green.
“Phoebe, are you well? What is the matter?” Mrs. Dibney asked softly, setting a hand upon Phoebe’s shoulder. “You have not looked well since you arrived though I did not wish to mention it.”
Phoebe expelled a shaky breath. “I wanted to be here for you, Tabitha. I always relish this dinner party, but… I should have kept to my bed. I have tried to run before I can walk, and now, I… do not feel well at all.”
“It was not the fish, was it? I thought it tasted rather… fishy,” Mrs. Dibney asked, her tone panicked as if envisioning every single one of her guests falling ill with terrible stomach upsets.
Phoebe shook her head. “Not the fish’s fault.Iam at fault.”
“She has suffered a recent malady and thought she was improved,” Leah explained. “You know Phoebe—she does not wish to disappoint anyone. I imagine she thought she was well enough and has since learned that she is not. Please, accept our apologies.”
