Iris Duggleby offered to have her parents host a soiree. “My mother will be delighted if I express interest in a ball,” she said, looking rather grim about the mouth. “We shall use the event as an opportunity for you to stroll around, looking quite knowing and smug and alarming. We can time it so that the gossip will have made its rounds.”
“Everyone will be eager to attend,” said Thomasin. “They’ll want to see how you react. If you try to cower.”
“She won’t,” Peter said. “Not my girl.”
“I won’t.” Her voice rasped a little, but she steadied herself. “I won’t cower. We must invite the Eldons.”
“To be sure,” said Lydia.
“For my part,” said Georgiana, “I think it wise if we do not appear to be great friends, Your Grace.” She offered Selina an apologetic smile. “For both our sakes. However, I know many people will be eager to speak of you in the coming days. My mother and I have several social events already on our schedule.”
She did her teeth-and-eyelashes routine again. “But whyever would the duchess tell us about her library? I certainly wouldnevertalk aboutbooksin company. It’s not fit for polite society to discussliterature. Surely Her Grace has more interesting topics to discuss.” Her nose wrinkled adorably. “Hats, I imagine. I hear she’s very fond of trimming hats. With fruit, I believe? Little cherries and peaches on her bonnets?”
“Goodness, child,” said Aunt Judith. “Stop that at once.”
An hour later, Nicholas and Daphne’s older son tumbled into the room with a china teacup and a decided lack of trousers, and the conversation quickly ran down.
The Tagores offered to escort Lady Georgiana and her dog back to her residence. Iris summoned the Duggleby carriage.
Lydia, before she walked down the street to the Hope-Wallace house, caught Selina’s eye, her face contemplative. “Perhaps,” she said, “when this is over, you will put me in touch with your publisher.”
Selina blinked. “With Laventille? Why?”
Lydia drummed her fingers on her reticule for a moment before speaking. “I find that I am inspired by you and Georgiana. I have some things I would like to say.”
And despite everything, Selina felt a warm rush of pride in her chest at the bravery of her friends.
When they were finally alone in the drawing room, Selina let herself soften against the hand that Peter had placed at the small of her back.
She didn’t know if his plan was going to work. It seemed somehow impossible—nothing like it would have ever occurred to her. Nothing like this bold offensive maneuver everhadoccurred to her, not in the two and a half years since Will had bought Belvoir’s. It had taken Peter, with his wide-open heart and his stubborn, headlong determination, to see a new path.
No secrets. No hiding. Not any longer.
And she wasn’t alone. That was the part that pulled at her heart, that made her eyes burn as she thought of it.
All these years, she had thought herself alone in this project. Yet Peter had asked for help—had told them that Selina needed them—and they’d come. All of them, unquestioning, had come.
She leaned against Peter, felt his cheek touch the crown of her head. Felt the warm pressure of his hand all the way out the door and to the carriage, until he handed her up and they went home together.
Chapter 28
… It came at last, the dear, critical, dangerous hour came; and now, supported only by the courage love lent me, I ventured, a tiptoe, down stairs…
—fromFANNY HILL
They decided to begin at Belvoir’s.
Peter rather liked the simplicity of it. Selina had told him one of her private rules was that she could never be seen to carry one of the green-bound Belvoir’s books, nor could she be caught entering or exiting the library.
So ten days later, after the rumor mill had had time to churn and when the traffic on Regent Street was at its thickest, they marched brazenly up to the front door, pushed it open, and walked into Belvoir’s.
It was crowded with patrons. The rumors of Nicholas’s involvement had already heightened interest in the library. Though Alverthorpe had not publicly accused Nicholas Ravenscroft of anymisdeeds, Nicholas’s sudden attention to the earl—who was not one of his friends or political partners—had been noted.
Then Lydia’s domestic gossips had gone to work. Peter suspected that Georgiana had had something to do with the project as well, as knowledge of Selina’s involvement spread like wildfire in dry grass. He and Selina had paraded through the Park, gone riding in Rotten Row, called on everyone they knew, and brought the children to a number of fashionable destinations—not that Lu had been impressed by anything she’d seen.
They had gotten many long, lingering, interested looks from other members of thebeau monde, but no one had cut them. They’d been received everywhere they went, and if they noticed people whispering behind their hands as they passed—well, Peter was used to that. He didn’t mind in the slightest, not now—because Selina had done something good and important, and he had the chance to stand at her side.
His wife—looking radiant in an amber frock almost the color of her eyes—sauntered through the aisles of books at his side, her fingers resting lightly on his forearm. He’d suspected she would be good at this, ruthlessly competent as always. He had not expected how much she would seem to relish her role.
