Chapter 1

Chapter One

L ady Eva Stanton was by all accounts an extraordinarily beautiful woman. She was aware of her beauty at a young age, receiving more than her share of compliments from the time she was a girl in braids and pinafores. If she had been any other girl, this would have easily gone to her head and poisoned her heart simultaneously. As it was, however, all this did was heighten her awareness that men coveted her as they did any other work of art, and not for her conversation, wit, or intellect.

This had also enabled her to move through society with a kind of confidence that was neither boastful nor snobbish. She simply took it for granted that hers was a company that others would enjoy. She was never unkind to the other young ladies, however, never lorded her place as the diamond of the ball over them. Her heart was surprisingly tender, though her face remained an impassive, unreadable mask.

It was a strange, almost alien feeling, then, for her to be feeling the stirrings of trepidation as she approached the fashionable townhouse near Regent's Park. It was one of many all in a row, their fronts still looking crisp and new, not worn with decades, centuries even, of wear as some of the other homes did.

In fact, as she mounted the short set of stairs that led to the front door, her steps paused and she nearly turned right around. Summoning her courage, Eva tossed her head a little, took a deep breath and marched right up to the green-painted door. With her left hand, she reached out, preparing to lift the brass knocker, when she hesitated again. She bit her lower lip, a habit her mother absolutely hated, and shifted from foot-to-foot, undecided. If anyone had been passing by, her inner conflict would have been patently obvious to them.

With a firm set of her shoulders, she reached up and took the knocker, letting it fall solidly against the door. Lady Eva believed in boldness, especially in the face of doubt, and she was determined to complete her errand. It was, after all, the Right Thing to Do, and Eva was also a recent convert to doing the right thing, even when it was uncomfortable.

Perhaps they are not at home , Lady Eva thought as she was left to linger on the front step. Her inner monologue had a whiff of hopefulness about her, and she immediately chastised herself for thinking in such a way. She was almost ready to leave when the door was opened at last, revealing the drawn face of a butler in a collar so stuff that Eva doubted he could look down if he wanted to.

"Can I help, madam?" he inquired stiffly.

"Lady Eva Stanton to see Lady Patience," she said, unable to stop her impulse to lift her own chin a fraction of an inch higher than the butler's.

The butler silently took Eva's measure, lingering on her midnight blue day dress and matching hat, complete with a spray of curled feathers. "I was not aware that Lady Patience was expecting callers," he said in the driest of tones. "I shall inquire if she is at home."

Lady Eva accepted this; there was no reason, really, to expect a warm welcome from Lady Patience—it was not as if they had ever been the greatest of friends. In truth, their past had been somewhat…well, tangled , to put it mildly. So Lady Eva waited on the front steps once again while the butler made his inquiry. This was common practice among the ladies of the ton: Lady Patience may very well have been physically within the residence, but she could very well claim that she was not "at home," which meant that she was not receiving visitors…or at least, this visitor.

Eva was at the point of losing hope when at last the green door was opened again. This time, the butler stepped back, and invited her inward with a little bow and a gesture of his arm. Eva sniffed a little and entered as grandly as she could, nevermind that she had been left standing on a front porch for longer than she would care to consider. She passed her gloves and hat to him, her head tilting up to take in the high ceiling of the foyer that went all the way to the top of the townhouse.

Lady Patience appeared at this moment, standing cautiously in a doorway that led to a hallway within. Though she was all coolness and grandeur on the outside, Eva could see that she was working to conceal some nerves. Eva could not help but feel a tiny pang of guilt; she couldn't blame Patience for looking apprehensive at her sudden appearance.

A silence stretched between them for a moment as they considered one another. At last, Lady Patience spoke, stepping forward a little. Her expression was still carefully guarded, but her tone and words were friendly enough.

"Lady Eva," she said, her eyebrows quirking a little. "I was not expecting to see you—to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I have just returned to London," Eva explained, "I have been abroad. In Italy," she added hastily. "I would have come sooner, but I expect you were busy with your wedding tour and setting up your new home."

A small, secret smile flitted across Patience's face. "That is true; we've only been back a fortnight."

"Well then," Eva said, nodding slightly.

"Well then," Patience agreed.

Eva hesitated, shifting a little from foot to foot as another strained silence took up residence in the foyer. There was much that she would like to say to Patience, but it was not the sort of thing that one should say in a foyer of all places. The conversation she wished to have demanded proper attention. She glanced about again, her eyes drawn upward to the massive crystal and gilt lantern that hung far overhead.

"Your home is most lovely," Eva said, mentally slapping her forehead with her palm. Of all the inane, inconsequential things to say… she chided herself.

That same little smile appeared on Patience's face. "I'm rather fond of it. It is well-situated, which was a concern for both of us, Tom and I."

"And how is Tom?" Eva asked, sensing an opening.

"Ah," Patience replied with a knowing nod. "I had assumed that was why you had come." At Eva's blank surprise, Patience continued, "I figured you would have something more to discuss than the quality of my new furnishings. At least, I hope you do." A glint of mischief appeared in Patience's eye, and Eva relaxed a little.

"You've caught me out," Eva said, hanging her head as if she were a naughty schoolgirl. "I have come here with an agenda." Tom had warned Eva that Patience was a most intuitive, observant person, and he had not been kidding.

"An agenda?" Patience considered for a moment, then turned slightly and gestured with her head in a way that indicated that Eva should follow her. "An agenda certainly requires some kind of refreshment. Tea, if you please, Carlton," she said over Eva's shoulder to the hovering butler.

Following behind Patience, Eva was led to a sitting room with walls covered in a muted red. The floor was laid with thick rugs so that one's foot barely touched the polished wooden floor that shone as it peaked from between them. The room was furnished with rich mahogany tables and chairs, upholstered in coordinating shades of dull reds and pinks. Though the furnishings were fashionable, they also gave off an air of supreme comfort.

The whole room was a study in tasteful comfort, really: It was situated near the northern rear of the house, on a corner far enough from the street that the sounds of London were muffled. The sunlight that entered was warm and golden, but not direct. It was insular, quiet, and Eva was immediately put at ease.

With a gesture, Patience indicated a small round tea table, covered with a linen and lace tablecloth. Eva settled herself on a chair, and they both smiled wanly at each other as they awaited the tea service. When it arrived, Patience poured carefully, deliberately, as if she were considering every action and weighing the correct way in which to do it. Again, Eva could not help but feel guilty, for she was sure that Patience was going to such pangs on her account. She had not meant to set the new bride ill-at-ease.

When at last they both had their teacups before them, as well as a fragrant assortment of little cakes and other tasty bits, Patience fixed her large violet eyes onto Eva. She did not say anything, merely looked at Eva expectantly, as if Eva were already speaking. It was most disconcerting, and Eva found that it was impossible not to say something.

"I wanted to apologise," she blurted.

Patience raised her eyebrows again, which only highlighted the largeness of her eyes. Eva had heard Patience described by some as not a particularly great beauty, but her eyes were the envy of the ton. Having seen Patience a few times now, Eva was inclined to agree. They gave her an air of innocence that Eva suspected was nothing more than a clever fa?ade.

"Do you? Pray tell, what for?"

"I…I think I made rather a spectacle of myself at your wedding," Eva said, feeling an unfamiliar blush of shame feathering along her cheeks. "Please believe me, that was not my intention."

Patience sat back and regarded Eva with an inscrutable look. "It was a bit odd, you entered, and then turned on your heel and ran back out of the church again."

Eva nodded glumly. "I know it. I just couldn't take it, all of those people turning to stare at me. I know what they were saying about me after all of that—that tawdry business last year. And they were right!" Eva's lip curled in disdain, her pretty face creasing. "I'm used to unkind gossip, that is simply the nature of the ton; I can simply wave it off as untrue or an exaggeration. But this! Eugh!"

Patience watched all of this without a change in her expression. Eva envied her this talent, to not betray what she was thinking; her own face said her thoughts and feelings aloud, which had gotten her into more than one fix.

When at last Patience spoke, it was deliberately, as if she had carefully weighed each word. "Well, if there's anyone that can understand feeling overwhelmed by the ton, it's me. It's not as if I can cast stones in that regard, after all."

Eva's head snapped up at that. There was a delicate smile on Patience's face again. "Are you sure? I mean—you have every right to be furious with me, for more than one reason."

They both knew exactly of what Eva spoke: It wasn't so long ago that Eva had been at the centre of a romantic plot to trap Tom, Patience's husband. It had been months of machinations, and only Eva's timely intervention that had at last put things to rights. To even think of it set Eva to blushing and scowling again.

To her great relief, Patience laughed softly, a sound as light as a bell. "Honestly, your little performance at the church was something of a relief."

"It was?"

"Oh yes," Patience continued, nodding and helping herself to a small cake that glistened with icing and candied fruit. "Everyone was so preoccupied with your hasty exit that I could have fallen flat on my face and no one would have paid any mind. I had been dreading all of those people staring at me." Patience's nose wrinkled at the memory. "I do not care to be the centre of the attention, and would have been perfectly content to elope to Gretna Greene."

"I'm glad that I didn't completely spoil your day," Eva said with a sigh. "That really would have been too much for me to bear; you've been nothing but fair and understanding to me."

"We all make mistakes, and the important thing is that you set things right." Patience paused, her teacup halfway to her mouth. "My mother says that my father used to tell her that it was imprudent to judge someone on their first actions or thoughts—those are simply someone's first impulse. What matters most is what they do next , after they've had time to consider. That is a truer accounting of their character."

Eva nodded. "That is just it: I have taken a hard examination of my life of late, and found that I am not proud of what I have done and said. I have allowed myself to go along with Mama's scheming for too long, just carried by the current. I shan't be her pawn any longer. I am turning over a new leaf, as they say."

"Are you indeed? I applaud your efforts, then, and your self-knowledge." Patience punctuated this sentence with a nod and a decisive bite of cake.

There followed a companionable silence, broken only by the occasional clink of teacups and the passing of comestibles. Eva was inclined to study the room a little more closely. Though the room was clearly intended for Patience's use, there were little hints of Tom scattered about: A pack of cards on a side table, a copy of a gentleman's magazine left open to an article about cravat knots. This made her smile, for she was very glad that though Tom had been reformed by married life, he was still himself.

"I imagine that this new attitude toward life has not made things easy between you and Lady Stanton," Patience commented.

Eva winced a little. "It has not," she confirmed. "She still has grand hopes for me marrying a rich man and solving all of our problems. Frankly, I think she would be delighted if I were to become the Prince's mistress."

"If there's anyone that can understand difficult mothers, it would be me," Patience said, nodding. "But even the scariest old dragon of a dowager can change her stripes, if for the benefit of her child."

"I'm not so sure," Eva muttered darkly. "I think Mama is convinced that I shall be a pariah forever, and if she cannot trade on my good looks, then we shall surely end up in the gutter."

Patience's soft face hardened a little and her lips pursed in disdain. "I understand what you mean. Of course, you know your friends would never allow that to happen."

Eva was touched by Patience's kind words. "You are a darling to offer, and I love you for it; but this is exactly the problem. I…I think I do not wish to be beholden to anyone. I think I would rather live on my wits," she finished in a rush, her words coming faster as the idea formed in her head.

"I'd be tempted to call anyone else that said that a fool, but I believe you are brazen and clever enough to get away with it," Patience said with a grin.

"I'll tell Mama the next time she brings some ancient wreck to me as a suitor that I shall run away to Paris to be an artist's model," Eva replied with a cheeky grin of her own.

"Oh Eva, she would just die !" Patience laughed.

"I'm not sure which would shock and disappoint her more: The fact that I'd be living among artists, or that they're French," Eva said around a giggle.

Patience threw her head back and laughed again, without restraint. This solidified the feelings of friendship that Eva had for her. Tom chose well, she thought to herself, satisfied that her childhood companion and playmate had married someone that she approved of.

"Well, since you are busy being shunned, perhaps you might like to accompany Tom and I to the theatre tomorrow?" Patience suggested.

"The theatre? Do you mean it?" Eva asked. Her heart leapt, for she truly loved the theatre, all theatre.

"Why not? We've taken a box for the season, and appearing together in public as friends will go a long way to putting wagging tongues to rest."

Eva regarded Patience with renewed appreciation. Though she had the face of a schoolgirl, it hid a clever mind that was clearly becoming an expert on navigating the ton with all of its vagaries. Whatever else happened this Season, Eva harboured hopes that she may call Patience a friend by the end.