the decency not to show yourself in polite society. Lord knows, your father left you well enough provided for that you should have no need to importune us.”
“I have no interest in you,” Damaris said flatly. “Whatever you think, you are wrong. I would have lived the rest of my life quite happily never seeing your face. Nor do I have any interest in ‘disgracing’ your name or whatever you imagine I am about. I have said and done nothing to suggest to anyone that I am in any way connected to the Sedbury family.” Lady Sedbury’s face flamed with dangerously high color, but before she could say anything, Damaris plowed ahead. “However, just because you were able to make your son desert his child and the woman he loved, just because you could bend him to your will and make him marry a ‘suitable’ girl, do not for an instant think that you are able to make me do anything. As you said, I am amply provided for, and you have made it clear that thereis no familial feeling between us. You have no power over me, and I shall live where I see fit and visit whom I wish.”
“You impudent little cat!”
“Now, unless you want to arouse precisely the sort of interest among the Staffords’ guests that you profess to hope to avoid, I suggest that you get out of my way.” Damaris started forward, moving around Lady Sedbury.
To her surprise, Lady Sedbury reached out a hand and clamped it around Damaris’s forearm, stopping her. “I will protect my family, just as I have always done. Get out of London. Immediately. Or I shall make sure that you will wish you had.”
With that parting shot, she turned and walked away, leaving Damaris gaping after her.
A little shudder ran through Damaris; she was suddenly cold despite the warmth of the crowded ballroom. She blinked away the tears—of fury, she told herself—that had formed in her eyes, and strode through the open doors into the hallway beyond. Pausing only long enough to get her light silver tissue wrap for her shoulders, Damaris left Rawdon’s home.
It was wrong of her, she knew, not to at least take her leave of her hostesses, and she felt sure that Lady Genevieve and her grandmother would take note of her rudeness. But she could not face hunting them down in the throng of guests and making the excuse of a headache. And, really, what did it matter? She would not see either of the women again. She should have listened to her inner voice and not come to this party; from now on, she would follow her own advice.
Damaris stopped on the stoop, remembering only now thatRawdon had escorted her tonight, so she did not have her carriage. After a moment’s hesitation, she started down the street, thinking she would hail a passing hack. She heard something rustle off to the side of her, deep in the shadows between the houses, and she turned her head toward the sound, startled. But at that moment, she heard a voice calling from the stoop behind her.
“Mrs. Howard!”
She whirled and looked back, her heart sinking. It was Lord Rawdon. She could not ignore him, but talking to him was the last thing she wanted right now. She tried to summon up a smile.
“Lord Rawdon.”
“Are you leaving? Is aught amiss?” He frowned as he came toward her. He wore no hat, having obviously left in a hurry. “I saw you go out the door, and I… was concerned. I hope no one upset you.”
She wondered if he had witnessed the scene between her and Lady Sedbury. Damaris brightened her smile. “No, indeed. It is a lovely party, and I appreciate so much your inviting me. It was most rude of me not to bid you good-bye. But I have a headache, you see, and I—”
He shook his head. “There is no need to explain. I am sorry that you are not feeling well. I shall give your good-byes to Genevieve and Lady Rawdon. You must not worry about that.” He came another step closer and looked down into her face. “I can see that you are… not feeling yourself.” He reached up to trace the line that
“I have no interest in you,” Damaris said flatly. “Whatever you think, you are wrong. I would have lived the rest of my life quite happily never seeing your face. Nor do I have any interest in ‘disgracing’ your name or whatever you imagine I am about. I have said and done nothing to suggest to anyone that I am in any way connected to the Sedbury family.” Lady Sedbury’s face flamed with dangerously high color, but before she could say anything, Damaris plowed ahead. “However, just because you were able to make your son desert his child and the woman he loved, just because you could bend him to your will and make him marry a ‘suitable’ girl, do not for an instant think that you are able to make me do anything. As you said, I am amply provided for, and you have made it clear that thereis no familial feeling between us. You have no power over me, and I shall live where I see fit and visit whom I wish.”
“You impudent little cat!”
“Now, unless you want to arouse precisely the sort of interest among the Staffords’ guests that you profess to hope to avoid, I suggest that you get out of my way.” Damaris started forward, moving around Lady Sedbury.
To her surprise, Lady Sedbury reached out a hand and clamped it around Damaris’s forearm, stopping her. “I will protect my family, just as I have always done. Get out of London. Immediately. Or I shall make sure that you will wish you had.”
With that parting shot, she turned and walked away, leaving Damaris gaping after her.
A little shudder ran through Damaris; she was suddenly cold despite the warmth of the crowded ballroom. She blinked away the tears—of fury, she told herself—that had formed in her eyes, and strode through the open doors into the hallway beyond. Pausing only long enough to get her light silver tissue wrap for her shoulders, Damaris left Rawdon’s home.
It was wrong of her, she knew, not to at least take her leave of her hostesses, and she felt sure that Lady Genevieve and her grandmother would take note of her rudeness. But she could not face hunting them down in the throng of guests and making the excuse of a headache. And, really, what did it matter? She would not see either of the women again. She should have listened to her inner voice and not come to this party; from now on, she would follow her own advice.
Damaris stopped on the stoop, remembering only now thatRawdon had escorted her tonight, so she did not have her carriage. After a moment’s hesitation, she started down the street, thinking she would hail a passing hack. She heard something rustle off to the side of her, deep in the shadows between the houses, and she turned her head toward the sound, startled. But at that moment, she heard a voice calling from the stoop behind her.
“Mrs. Howard!”
She whirled and looked back, her heart sinking. It was Lord Rawdon. She could not ignore him, but talking to him was the last thing she wanted right now. She tried to summon up a smile.
“Lord Rawdon.”
“Are you leaving? Is aught amiss?” He frowned as he came toward her. He wore no hat, having obviously left in a hurry. “I saw you go out the door, and I… was concerned. I hope no one upset you.”
She wondered if he had witnessed the scene between her and Lady Sedbury. Damaris brightened her smile. “No, indeed. It is a lovely party, and I appreciate so much your inviting me. It was most rude of me not to bid you good-bye. But I have a headache, you see, and I—”
He shook his head. “There is no need to explain. I am sorry that you are not feeling well. I shall give your good-byes to Genevieve and Lady Rawdon. You must not worry about that.” He came another step closer and looked down into her face. “I can see that you are… not feeling yourself.” He reached up to trace the line that
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