Secrets of a Summer Night
Page 59
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Annabelle maintained her smile, refusing to show how the comment had rankled…though she was strongly tempted to make an observation about the blemish on Lady Constance’s forehead.
“Do excuse me,” Lady Constance murmured, standing from the table. “I see some fresh strawberries. I shall return momentarily.”
“Take your time,” Annabelle advised sweetly. “We’ll hardly notice your absence.”
Together, Annabelle and Kendall watched Lady Constance glide toward the buffet table, where it so happened that Mr. Benjamin Muxlow was also refilling his plate. Politely, Muxlow stood back from the large bowl of strawberries and held Lady Constance’s plate as she ladled a few choice berries on it. The air between them bespoke nothing more than cordial friend-liness…but Annabelle happened to remember the story that Daisy had told her the day before yesterday.
And then she thought of it—the perfect way to eliminate Lady Constance as a contender. Before she allowed herself to consider the consequences, moral implications, or any other inconvenient notions, she leaned closer to Lord Kendall. “The two of them are quite good at concealing the true state of affairs, aren’t they?” she murmured, casting a sly glance at Lady Constance and Muxlow. “But of course, it would hardly serve either of them if it became generally known…” She paused and looked into Lord Kendall’s puzzled gaze with a trace of pretended discomfort. “Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed that you must have already heard…”
Kendall’s face was suddenly wreathed in a frown. “Heard what?” he asked, giving the pair a wary glance.
“Well, I’m not one to spread gossip…but I was told by a reliable source that on the day of the water party, at the picnic on the riverbank…Miss Hunt and Mr. Muxlow were caught in a terribly compromising situation. The two of them were behind a tree, and…” Annabelle stopped with a carefully manufactured expression of dismay. “I shouldn’t have said anything. And it’s possible that there has been some misunderstanding. One never knows, does one?”
Applying herself to sipping daintily from her teacup, Annabelle shot an assessing glance over the rim. She read Kendall’s emotions easily: He did not want to believe that Lady Constance could have been caught in an indiscretion. The thought of it was enough to appall him. However, being a true gentleman, Kendall would be loath to investigate the situation. He would never dare to ask Lady Constance if she had indeed been compromised by Muxlow. Instead, he would remain silent on the matter, and try to ignore his own suspicions…and the unanswered questions would fester.
“Annabelle, you sh-shouldn’t have,” Evie murmured later that afternoon when Annabelle confessed what she had done. The four friends sat in Evie’s bedroom, where the girl sat with her face covered in a thick application of white cream that was supposed to get rid of freckles. Staring at Annabelle from beneath the heavy layer of bleaching unguent, Evie tried to continue, but it was clear that her powers of speech— which were not all that extensive to begin with—had been obliterated by disapproval.
“It was a brilliant strategy,” Lillian declared, picking up a nail file from the vanity where she sat. Whether she actually approved of Annabelle’s actions was not clear, but it was obvious that she would remain loyal to the end. “Annabelle didn’t actually lie, you see. She merely repeated a rumor that had been told to her, and she made it clear that it was just that—a rumor. What Kendall chooses to make of it is up to him.”
“But Annabelle didn’t tell him that she knows for a fact that the rumor is unf-founded,” Evie argued.
Lillian concentrated on filing her nail to a perfect oval. “Still, she didn’t lie.”
Feeling defensive and guilty, Annabelle looked at Daisy. “Well, what do you think?”
The younger Bowman sister, who had been repeatedly tossing the Rounders ball from one hand to the other, gave Annabelle an astute look as she replied. “I think that sometimes not giving someone all the information is nearly the same as a lie. You’ve started on a slippery path, dear. Beware your next step.”
Lillian scowled in annoyance. “Oh, do stop talking like a sideshow fortune-teller, Daisy. Once Annabelle gets what she wants, it won’t matter how she accomplished it. Results are everything. And Evie—no ethical hairsplitting. You agreed to help us manipulate Lord Kendall into a compromising situation—how is that any worse than Annabelle repeating an unfounded rumor?”
“We all promised not to hurt anyone,” Evie said with great dignity, taking a small towel and wiping thick streaks of cream from her face.
“Lady Constance hasn’t been hurt,” Lillian insisted. “She’s not in love with him. It is quite obvious that she wants Kendall only because he’s an end-of the-season bachelor, and she’s unmarried. Heavens, Evie, you’ve got to harden yourself. Is Lady Constance any worse off than we are? Look at us—four wallflowers who’ve got nothing to show for their efforts so far, except freckles, an adder bite, and the humiliation of having exposed our knickers to Lord Westcliff.”
Annabelle, who had been sitting on the edge of the mattress, let herself fall back to the center of the four-poster bed. She stared at the striped canopy overhead, feeling guilty. Oh, how she wished that she could be more like Lillian, who believed that the end justified the means! She promised herself that she would be strictly honorable in the future.
“Do excuse me,” Lady Constance murmured, standing from the table. “I see some fresh strawberries. I shall return momentarily.”
“Take your time,” Annabelle advised sweetly. “We’ll hardly notice your absence.”
Together, Annabelle and Kendall watched Lady Constance glide toward the buffet table, where it so happened that Mr. Benjamin Muxlow was also refilling his plate. Politely, Muxlow stood back from the large bowl of strawberries and held Lady Constance’s plate as she ladled a few choice berries on it. The air between them bespoke nothing more than cordial friend-liness…but Annabelle happened to remember the story that Daisy had told her the day before yesterday.
And then she thought of it—the perfect way to eliminate Lady Constance as a contender. Before she allowed herself to consider the consequences, moral implications, or any other inconvenient notions, she leaned closer to Lord Kendall. “The two of them are quite good at concealing the true state of affairs, aren’t they?” she murmured, casting a sly glance at Lady Constance and Muxlow. “But of course, it would hardly serve either of them if it became generally known…” She paused and looked into Lord Kendall’s puzzled gaze with a trace of pretended discomfort. “Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed that you must have already heard…”
Kendall’s face was suddenly wreathed in a frown. “Heard what?” he asked, giving the pair a wary glance.
“Well, I’m not one to spread gossip…but I was told by a reliable source that on the day of the water party, at the picnic on the riverbank…Miss Hunt and Mr. Muxlow were caught in a terribly compromising situation. The two of them were behind a tree, and…” Annabelle stopped with a carefully manufactured expression of dismay. “I shouldn’t have said anything. And it’s possible that there has been some misunderstanding. One never knows, does one?”
Applying herself to sipping daintily from her teacup, Annabelle shot an assessing glance over the rim. She read Kendall’s emotions easily: He did not want to believe that Lady Constance could have been caught in an indiscretion. The thought of it was enough to appall him. However, being a true gentleman, Kendall would be loath to investigate the situation. He would never dare to ask Lady Constance if she had indeed been compromised by Muxlow. Instead, he would remain silent on the matter, and try to ignore his own suspicions…and the unanswered questions would fester.
“Annabelle, you sh-shouldn’t have,” Evie murmured later that afternoon when Annabelle confessed what she had done. The four friends sat in Evie’s bedroom, where the girl sat with her face covered in a thick application of white cream that was supposed to get rid of freckles. Staring at Annabelle from beneath the heavy layer of bleaching unguent, Evie tried to continue, but it was clear that her powers of speech— which were not all that extensive to begin with—had been obliterated by disapproval.
“It was a brilliant strategy,” Lillian declared, picking up a nail file from the vanity where she sat. Whether she actually approved of Annabelle’s actions was not clear, but it was obvious that she would remain loyal to the end. “Annabelle didn’t actually lie, you see. She merely repeated a rumor that had been told to her, and she made it clear that it was just that—a rumor. What Kendall chooses to make of it is up to him.”
“But Annabelle didn’t tell him that she knows for a fact that the rumor is unf-founded,” Evie argued.
Lillian concentrated on filing her nail to a perfect oval. “Still, she didn’t lie.”
Feeling defensive and guilty, Annabelle looked at Daisy. “Well, what do you think?”
The younger Bowman sister, who had been repeatedly tossing the Rounders ball from one hand to the other, gave Annabelle an astute look as she replied. “I think that sometimes not giving someone all the information is nearly the same as a lie. You’ve started on a slippery path, dear. Beware your next step.”
Lillian scowled in annoyance. “Oh, do stop talking like a sideshow fortune-teller, Daisy. Once Annabelle gets what she wants, it won’t matter how she accomplished it. Results are everything. And Evie—no ethical hairsplitting. You agreed to help us manipulate Lord Kendall into a compromising situation—how is that any worse than Annabelle repeating an unfounded rumor?”
“We all promised not to hurt anyone,” Evie said with great dignity, taking a small towel and wiping thick streaks of cream from her face.
“Lady Constance hasn’t been hurt,” Lillian insisted. “She’s not in love with him. It is quite obvious that she wants Kendall only because he’s an end-of the-season bachelor, and she’s unmarried. Heavens, Evie, you’ve got to harden yourself. Is Lady Constance any worse off than we are? Look at us—four wallflowers who’ve got nothing to show for their efforts so far, except freckles, an adder bite, and the humiliation of having exposed our knickers to Lord Westcliff.”
Annabelle, who had been sitting on the edge of the mattress, let herself fall back to the center of the four-poster bed. She stared at the striped canopy overhead, feeling guilty. Oh, how she wished that she could be more like Lillian, who believed that the end justified the means! She promised herself that she would be strictly honorable in the future.
