daring gown was the one she’d worn to the Masquerade Club the night before. Its neckline had always seemed too low. She’d only worn it because she thought no one would recognise her in it, as if anyone at these society events noticed what she wore. None the less, she would change into it to wear to the gaming house tonight, as well.
She turned to Adele. ‘Why don’t you see if Younie has any ideas of how to alter one of your old gowns for tonight? She is very clever at that sort of thing.’
Adele jumped to her feet. ‘An excellent idea! I will do that right away.’ She started for the door. ‘I beg your leave, Grandmama.’
Lady Gale waved her away. ‘Go.’ She called after Adele. ‘Younie is in my room, Adele. She is mending.’
Adele skipped away and Lady Gale turned to Celia. ‘I do not see why my granddaughter and I must share your lady’s maid.’
Celia kept her voice even. ‘Because we do not have the funds to hire more servants.’
‘Money!’ the older woman huffed. ‘That is all you ever talk of.’
Money had consumed her thoughts, Celia would be the first to admit. Except this day thoughts of money were mixed with combinations of hearts, spades, clubs and diamonds.
Would Rhysdale be pleased at her return? Celia wondered.
She gave herself a good shake. Why was she even thinking of the man? It was not a good thing that she had come to his notice, no matter how attractively masculine he was. She planned to win and win often.
What if he accused her of cheating?
Lady Devine’s musicale was a sought-after event and Celia’s mother-in-law said more than once how lucky they were to have received an invitation. Celia, Adele and Lady Gale were announced amidst Lady Gale’s grumbling that they ought to have had a gentleman escorting them.
They strolled through the rooms where the pink of the ton were assembled. Celia recognised some of the men as having been at the gaming house the previous night and she wondered how many more of these people—ladies especially—had been there, as well, but wearing masks as she had done.
Some of the gentlemen’s faces at this entertainment had been quite animated at the gaming house, impassioned by the cards or the dice. Here in this Mayfair town house their expressions were bland. It seemed as if the risks of winning or losing made them come alive.
She did not know their names. The ton were known to her only from newspaper articles or books on the peerage. When her parents had been alive she’d been too young for London society. By the time she was married, her husband chose to keep her in the country so as not to interfere with his other ‘interests.’ The arrangement had suited her well enough. She preferred him to be away.
If she had been with him in London, though, she might have had some warning of his profligacy and the condition of his finances. She would have seen in him the telltale signs of gambling lust. Her childhood had honed her for it.
Her mother-in-law ought to have known how debauched her son had become. Lady Gale had spent most of her time in London as part of the social scene. In fact, it was because of Celia’s mother-in-law that they received as many invitations as they did. But her mother-in-law would never countenance anything negative being said about her only son.
Except his choice of a second wife.
One of the men who had been at the gaming hell passed close by. Celia had an impulse to ask her mother-in-law who the gentleman was, but Lady Gale gestured to her dismissively before she could speak.
‘Get me a glass of wine,’ the older woman ordered. ‘It is so tedious not to have a man about to perform such niceties.’
‘I will get it for you, Grandmama,’ Adele said. ‘Do not trouble Celia.’
Before either lady could protest, Adele disappeared through the crowd.
Lady Gale pursed her lips at Celia, but something quickly caught her eye. ‘Look. There is our cousin Luther.’
Luther was second cousin to Celia’s husband. And he was the new Baron Gale.
Needless to say, Luther was none too pleased at the state of his inheritance, mortgaged to the hilt, all reserves depleted. He had not the least inclination to offer any financial assistance to the former baron’s mother, daughter or wife, as a result.
‘Yoo-hoo! Luther!’ Lady Gale waved.
The man tried to ignore her but, with a resigned look upon his face, walked over to where they stood. ‘Good evening, ladies.’ He bowed. ‘I trust you are well.’
‘We are exceeding well,’ Lady Gale chirped, suddenly as bright and cheerful as she’d previously been sullen. ‘And you, sir?’
‘Tolerable,’ he muttered, his eyes straying to elsewhere in the room.
‘My granddaughter is here, Luther, dear,’ she went on. ‘You will want to greet her, I am sure.’
Luther looked as if he’d desire anything but.
‘It is her Season, do you recall?’ Lady Gale fluttered her lashes as if she were the girl having her Season. ‘We expect many suitors.’
‘Do you?’ Luther appeared to search for a means of escape.
‘Her dowry is respectable, you know.’ That was because her father, Celia’s husband, had been unable to get his hands on it.
Luther’s brows rose in interest. ‘Is that so?’
Celia felt a sudden dread. Surely Lady Gale would not try to make a match between Adele and Luther? Luther had already proved to be excessively unkind. After all, he’d taken over Gale House as soon as Celia’s year of mourning was completed, removing Celia, Adele and Lady Gale without an offer of another residence. Even now he was rattling around in the London town house by himself when he could very easily have hosted the three women for the Season. That simple act would have saved Celia plenty of money and would have given Adele more prestige.
‘Gale!’ some gentleman called. ‘Are you coming?’
Luther did not hesitate. ‘If you will pardon me.’ He bowed again.
‘But,’ Lady Gale spoke to his retreating back, ‘you have not yet greeted Adele!’
‘He can see Adele another time,’ Celia assured her. ‘In fact, he could call upon us, which would be the civil thing for him to do.’
Lady Gale flicked her away as if she were an annoying fly. ‘He is much too busy. He is a peer now, you know.’
A peer who cared nothing for his relations.
Adele returned, carrying two glasses of wine. ‘I brought one for you, too, Celia.’ She handed a glass to her grandmother and one to Celia.
Adele was always so considerate. Sometimes Celia wondered how the girl could share the same blood as her father and grandmother.
Lady Gale snapped, ‘Adele, you missed our cousin, Luther. He was here but a moment ago.’
