CHAPTER 20

SHE COULD NOT MEET Liam today, Thalia thought with regret as she readied herself for the day. She donned one of the beautiful gowns that had kept arriving throughout the week. It bothered her to accept so many gifts from Liam, worrying their relationship had started to resemble that of a protector and a mistress. But he would not accept no for an answer, and in all honesty, the gowns made her feel so pretty that she didn't have the fortitude to reject them.

This one was a more sedate day gown in deep rose silk with green embroidery that caused her skin to glow and hugged her curves like a second skin. She turned this way and that in front of the mirror. Watching the fluid movement of the skirt. The gowns were comfortable as well. That had been a pleasant surprise. She would have thought such form-fitting gowns would be restrictive of movement. But the cut and fit of the bodice was flawless, and that, coupled with comfortable yet pretty undergarments, made all the difference.

She was looking forward to the Ladies' Lair meeting this week. The society, founded by Lady Harfield, Lady Brentworth, and the Duchess of Aycliffe, aimed to rescue and protect women and children in abusive or dangerous situations.

Meeting with the ladies was always a pleasure, for they were smart women who were unfailingly kind, generous, and sympathetic. They had become her closest friends. But she had always felt like a hen among swans with them, for they were beautiful and stylish women. While she... Well, she was a frumpy widow whose own husband had not deigned to touch. But not today.

She took one last look in the mirror after scribbling a note to Liam, informing him that she wouldn't be able to see him today but would be in his house the next morning. She would miss him, for their daily encounters had become a delightful habit, but it was only a day. It would not do to become too attached.

His clay model was almost done. After he finished that, he wouldn't need her to pose anymore. Would he end their relationship then? He seemed happy to have her around and was always enthusiastic in their amorous activities, but he had never indicated by action or word that he wanted a permanent relationship.

And neither did she. The only sort of socially acceptable relationship between a man and a woman was marriage. And she valued her independence too much. Putting herself under a man's control once again was not something she relished. A little voice in her head piped that her lady friends were all happily married and yet still retained their independence and freedom. Yes, but that was because their husbands allowed it. Even if she were to look past her own unfortunate experience with marriage, in their charity work, she had seen plenty of women in terrible relationships.

When she entered the elegant Mayfair townhouse of the Countess of Hartfield, the other ladies were already there, talking animatedly while they drank tea. Besides the countesses and the duchess, Mrs Wang and her daughter, Lady Elizabeth, were also there. They all stopped their conversations and turned to stare as she entered.

"Thalia!" Abigail, Lady Harfield, was the first to greet her. "Come in, dear. You look fantastic!"

"Thank you, my lady. But it's you who is positively radiant." It was true. The countess was a beautiful brunette, and pregnancy seemed to make her glow with happiness.

"Oh, balderdash. I'm swollen and ungainly," Abigail replied, kissing her cheek.

"I agree with Abigail, Thalia. You look gorgeous," Hannah, Lady Brentworth, interjected. "That dress compliments your skin and brings color to your cheeks."

"Or maybe something...or someone else is responsible for her flushed state," the duchess suggested with a wicked glint in her eye, making Thalia blush even harder.

"If I am blushing, it is because of your praise. But enough about me. I don't want to distract us from the important matters."

"Oh, no," Elizabeth, the youngest and only unmarried lady of the group, interjected. "I want to know what brought about this change. And also the name of your modiste, because that gown is a work of art."

"Elizabeth, stop pestering Thalia," Mrs. Wang came to her rescue.

And a good thing she did, because it would sound very odd if she had to confess she didn't know who the modiste was. No way to tell these ladies the dresses were a gift from her lover.

"At least tell us this. Does your new look mean you are considering remarrying?" Elizabeth went on, irrepressibly. She was about the same age as Artemis and full of energy and vivaciousness.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that," she assured them promptly.

"I thought that now that Artemis married, you would be more amenable to the idea," Elizabeth said.

"I'm happy for Artemis but have no plans of contracting matrimony myself."

"Hmm, it's a pity, my dear. You're too young and vibrant to give up on love altogether," Abigail told her, as she brought Thalia to sit next to her. "Trust me, I know. For many years, I avoided marriage like the plague. But with the right man, it can be wonderful."

The rest of the women nodded and expressed their agreement.

"And I daresay, whoever brought those roses to your cheeks deserves some consideration," Hannah piped in with a smile.

Thalia shook her head again. "I assure you, he's not interested in matri—" Realizing what she had admitted to, she brought her hand to her mouth and looked wide-eyed at her friends, who burst out laughing.

"I knew it! Thalia has a suitor," Elizabeth said.

"Don't worry, my dear. Your secret is safe with us," Abigail assured her. "You know we only wish you the best. And if this man of yours makes you feel lovely and desired, I say good for you. Just... keep an open heart to the possibility of marriage."

"Thank you," Thalia said, squeezing Abigail's hand.

"Now, show us your sketches, to decide which one we shall publish in the papers next."

Grateful for the change of subject, Thalia laid out all the caricatures she had created during the past week.