Scales and Sensibility by Stephanie Burgis
Chapter 30
For the first time that evening, Elinor was grateful for the shifting masses of the crowd that filled the Hathergills’ over-stuffed ballroom. They allowed her to hang back, safely hidden, while her aunt sailed forward to the refreshment table.
Safely hidden…but close enough to overhear. It might be good to have a partner, but Elinor couldn’t imagine any more dangerous co-conspirator than Lady Hathergill, unleashed. If her aunt announced to Lucinda and Millie what she was doing, their entire enterprise would be shattered.
But her first words were fairly innocuous, by recent standards. “Ah, there’s the punch-bowl at last. I certainly need it in a tedious crush like this. I’m positively reeking with sweat. Repulsive!”
Millie tittered nervously, raising one hand to her mouth, but Lucinda only said politely, “May I fill your cup for you, Lady Hathergill?”
“No need for that,” said Lady Hathergill. “I want Millie to do something for me. Will you fetch my lavender shawl?”
“But…” Millie blinked at her. “I thought you were too hot?”
“It’s an excuse, girl!” Lady Hathergill barked, and Elinor closed her eyes in pure anguish.
She should have known better than to ever make such a doomed attempt.
But before she could even begin to form new plans, Millie breathed, “Ohhhh. You mean, you said you were hot because you wanted an excuse to drink more punch. I see! My cousin Agatha does that sometimes, too, although she does act very silly afterwards. My mama says it’s always wisest for ladies to stick to lemonade when not in the safety of their own chambers.” And with a warning shake of her head, Millie hurried off through the crowd to fulfill her errand…leaving Elinor to wonder what exactly Mrs. Staverton did drink in the safety of her bedchamber.
Still: Thank goodness, Elinor thought, and let her head drop for a moment against the warmth of Sir Jessamyn’s shoulder. That had been a too-close escape.
Taking a deep breath, Elinor eased closer to peer through the throng. Her aunt was leaning over the tall crystal punch bowl, while Lucinda stood beside her, sipping her own punch and looking faintly bored. As Lady Hathergill muttered to herself, words that Elinor couldn’t catch, Lucinda’s lips curled into an expression of pure contempt. It melted away only a moment later to be replaced by a politely expectant look as Lady Hathergill straightened, but Elinor’s breath had already caught and her eyes narrowed.
The last remaining traces of her own guilt melted away. Lucinda deserved to be trapped, and to pay for what she had done to Sally’s sister. Her actual thefts might have been forgiven, but Sally was right: no inner compulsion could excuse the way that she had treated other people…and the way she would continue to treat others if she wasn’t stopped now.
Lady Hathergill took a long sip of her punch…and the glittering diamond bracelet on her wrist slipped off her arm. It slid down her gown and landed just beneath the table.
Lucinda’s face sharpened, like a hunting dog on point.
Lady Hathergill said, “Do you know, I never thought you were a good friend for my daughter, although you were always good at flattering her. I must say I wasn’t at all surprised when—”
“Lady Hathergill!” Elinor broke through the crowd to stop her. “Won’t you come give me your opinion on something?”
Her aunt shrugged and tossed down a sip of punch. “I’m always happy to give my opinion nowadays.”
Lucinda’s eyes darted back and forth between Lady Hathergill and the table.
Elinor sent her a dismissive smile. “You won’t mind my stealing her away from you, will you?”
“Not at all,” said Lucinda. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked down into her punch glass, lowering her eyelashes, as if she were suffering from shyness in Mrs. De Lacey’s presence…but Elinor caught the motion in the corner of her eye as Lucinda reached out with one slippered foot and nudged the bracelet another careful three inches underneath the table.
Elinor took her aunt’s arm in her gloved hand and drew her away.
As soon as they were hidden from Lucinda’s view, though, she spun around. “Can you see the bracelet?” She stood on her tiptoes, but she couldn’t see under the table past the cluster of matrons who stood between them, feathered turbans and headdresses bobbing.
“I shan’t mind if I lose that bracelet,” Lady Hathergill said. “I always thought the stones were tastelessly large. But then, Sir John has never consulted me in the jewelry that he buys for display.”
“Of course not,” Elinor agreed automatically, as she peered past shoulders and waving fans. She would have to wait at least a minute or two to be certain; Lucinda, after all, would surely wait a minute to be safe before she took the risk of scooping up the bracelet.
If Lucinda was only holding it in her hands when she was caught, there would be no proof of her wrongdoing; she might well claim she had only picked it up to return to Lady Hathergill. She would have to hide it in her reticule or on her person to look incriminating. But if Elinor didn’t see where she hid it…
“Sir John has never listened to me about anything,” Lady Hathergill said, “but he did used to talk at me a great deal, back when I was too tired to disagree with him. Now that I’m able to share my own opinions, it’s remarkable how little he wants to see me at all. I must say, that really has been one of the pleasantest side effects of the great change.” She accented the word meaningfully.
“The great…what?” Elinor blinked, distracted for a moment from her search. Then her mouth dropped open. Heat spread across her face as she struggled for words. “I’m not sure…I don’t think you’re undergoing the change,” she finally managed. “I mean, I don’t think this is a physical issue. That is…”
“What else could it be?” her aunt asked. “Come now, Sophia, it may be some years since we knew each other well, but even when you were a girl yourself, you never used to blush at discussing such matters. Surely you remember your own mother telling us about the change that happens in mid-life.”
“Well…” Elinor didn’t, actually—her own mother had been only thirty-eight when she’d died, and the subject hadn’t arisen between them. Elinor had heard only the vaguest of old wives’ tales about what happened to older women. Still, she was certain that none of those whispered changes were brought about by dragon wishes.
And she was suddenly miserably certain of something else, too: if she let her aunt go on thinking that this change in herself was natural, all the way to the doors of her confinement, she would be no better than Sir John himself. He might be the one who paid to send her to that cottage…but Elinor was the one who was at fault.
She stared at her aunt, caught in helpless silence. She couldn’t tell her the truth now, in the middle of the crowded ball—the news would spread like fire across the room, just like every other thought that entered Lady Hathergill’s head nowadays. But she couldn’t let her walk unknowingly into the trap that Sir John had set, either.
She reached out and laid the tips of her gloved fingers on her aunt’s arm. “There is something I have to tell you,” she said. Her mouth felt suddenly dry. She swallowed hard, trying to moisten it, but there was no way to soften the words she had to say. “Sir John thinks you’ve gone mad.”
“Oh, I know that.” Lady Hathergill snorted. “He would, wouldn’t he? As far as my husband is concerned, any woman or servant who doesn’t hop to his bidding must be entirely perverse. He was never in love with me, you know, even in the beginning. You were right when you warned me against the marriage. I should have listened instead of thinking you blinded by jealousy. I’m sorry for that. He only wanted a pretty ornament for the grand new estate he was building…but then, I married him for his money, so I suppose it’s only fair. I always did envy my younger sister marrying for love, even if she did have to bury herself in the wilds of Cornwall for it. But then, you and I would never have been allowed—”
“None of that matters right now!” Elinor shook her head, shaking away the paralyzing grief that wanted to snake out and trap her with the memory of her parents. “You have to listen to me. That physician who came—Sir John has paid him to declare you insane. He’ll be taking you to a cottage in the middle of nowhere, tonight, with a nurse to keep you solitary and hidden from everyone. His carriage is waiting behind the stables now. You haven’t any time to lose.”
For the first time in days, Lady Hathergill was silent. For a long moment she only stared.
Then she said, “Well, I should have expected it. This is exactly why I gave up all those years ago, you know. But I don’t care. I’m glad I had this week. I’m glad I finally told my husband exactly what I thought of him.” She downed the rest of her punch with a fierce swallow.
“He deserved it,” Elinor said, “but you don’t. You have to do something.”
“Do something?” Lady Hathergill let out a crack of laughter. “Easy for you to say, my friend! You’re a widow, with the right to your own money and decisions. Sir John is my owner in the eyes of the law. Even if he wanted to send me to the worst sort of madhouse, there would no one with a legal right to stop him, not even you or your fine London friends.” Snorting, she turned to walk away.
“There’s you,” Elinor said, and tightened her hand around her aunt’s arm, forcing her to stay. “And there are all of your neighbors, too. You know how much Sir John cares for his reputation. I can’t tell them myself—I had to promise to hold my tongue tonight. But you can tell anyone you want. You can make as much of a fuss as you want! You must. Make such a spectacle he can’t hide it. Embarrass him so much that he can’t stand it. Only, please…”
She knew it was hopeless, but she had to try, for her sisters’ sake: “Please don’t tell anyone how you found out the truth, I beg you. Let Sir John think you spotted the physician’s carriage yourself, or heard the servants gossiping. Please.”
Lady Hathergill’s eyes narrowed. Confusion crept across her face as she leaned forward. “There’s something about your voice…for a moment, you sounded exactly like…”
Elinor let go of her aunt’s arm as if she’d been burned. But it was too late. Her aunt seized her hand, and their bare arms brushed against each other.
Lady Hathergill’s jaw dropped. “Elinor?!”
Elinor jerked away so quickly that Sir Jessamyn almost slipped off her shoulder. Her mind whirled. She opened her mouth to speak. There had to be a solution, if she could only think fast enough to find one.
Then she met her aunt’s gaze and realized the truth: there was no escape. No matter what Lady Hathergill might think or want, she couldn’t keep a secret anymore—not even to save her own life. After a week of illusions and reprieve, Elinor’s time had run out.
She looked into her aunt’s shocked face and said the only thing she could: “Forgive me.”
Then she turned and hurried away through the crowd without waiting for a response.
Sir Jessamyn’s claws burned into her shoulder as she ducked and slid through openings to avoid any more telltale brushes of bare skin. Guests’ voices roared in her ears, but she couldn’t take them in. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel before her. She had to find Benedict. She could not run without saying farewell to him first. She might have failed her sisters and her aunt, but she had promised not to abandon him.
She’d promised.
She had almost reached the center of the room before it hit her: the music of the quadrille had stopped. It must have stopped a few minutes ago, in fact—the dancers had abandoned the patterns and were forming a new set. Good. Penelope would be busy with Mr. Armitage, and Elinor could safely draw Benedict aside.
Perhaps he could even convince Mr. Aubrey to drive her away in his carriage, to escape. That would give her an hour or two’s head start before Sir John could leave the ball and come after her. But no—that would require abandoning all of Mr. Aubrey’s books and papers. He would never agree to it.
Where was Benedict? She drew to a halt, panting, and stood on her tiptoes to peer around. People were looking at her wonderingly, but she didn’t care anymore. All she wanted…
Mr. Armitage’s voice spoke in her ear, as sharp as a blade, and as sudden. “Devil take you, where has she gone?”
Elinor fell back, gasping. “What do you mean? Who?”
Then she saw his furious face, and her heart sank.
“Penelope,” snarled Gavin Armitage. “She’s supposed to be dancing this set with me…but she and your precious Mr. Hawkins have disappeared.”