“How on earth is fulfilling my father’s wishes the same thing as loving a woman you haven’t seen for ten years?” Lord Quentin replied.
“Love makes fools of us all,” Miss Eliza pointed out. “Some would say I’m throwing away my chances.”
“I do believe I’ve said that,” Lord Mannis commented.
“Darling, if you try and be self-sacrificing again and tell me to leave you, I shall have to throw a very dramatic fit,” Miss Eliza said primly. She smiled sweetly at Lord Mannis.
Regina could hardly keep up with the conversation. “I’m sorry?” She said. “Did you say a woman?”
Everyone at the table turned and looked at her. Regina swallowed. She’d been rude again.
“Yes,” Lady Cora said slowly. She turned back to look at her cards. “What’s the term they use for people like me?”
“Deviant was a fun one,” Lord Mannis said.
Lady Cora acknowledged it with a hum. “Where you admire a man, Miss Regina,” she told her, “I admire a woman. Society doesn’t like that.”
Regina didn’t know what to think. Lady Cora seemed to embody everything a woman should be. She was elegant and poised. She was beautiful. She seemed quite educated.
Lady Cora sighed. “If you’re going to start babbling about my going to Hell, child, I hope you will start sooner rather than later. I’m close to winning this hand.”
“That’s what you think,” Lord Mannis grumbled, looking at his cards.
“I don’t plan on lecturing you,” Regina replied. She didn’t think she was in a position to lecture anybody, about anything. She was hardly an expert on theology.
“Lovely. Mannis, prepare to lose,” Lady Cora said. She laid down a card that made Mannis call her quite a few awful names.
“I don’t understand,” Regina said. “You’ve been in love with one woman for ten years?”
Lady Cora groaned. Miss Eliza giggled. “See, Cora, even she thinks you should move on.”
“There is a lovely Frenchwoman,” Lord Quentin said, “Who’s acquaintance I have been fortunate enough to make. I’ve heard rumor she shares your inclinations. Lovely woman, hair like gold…”
“You know full well I prefer redheads,” Lady Cora snapped. “And I shall not be set up.”
“I’d offer up Miss Regina here but she’s too young for you,” Lord Harrison said.
“And not interested,” Regina added. “I mean no offense, Lady Cora.”
“Just Cora will do,” Cora said. “And none taken.”
“You speak as though you haven’t already claimed her for yourself,” Lord Mannis said to Lord Harrison. He indicated Regina.
Regina felt her face flushing. She looked at Lord Harrison. He looked as though someone had dumped cold water on his head.
“Miss Regina is my cousin,” he reminded Lord Mannis.
“And I’m going to live to be a hundred,” Lord Mannis countered. “Good lord, you think we can’t tell when you’re lying?”
“You can tell us who you really are,” Miss Eliza said gently. “We won’t tell anyone. We’re hardly in a position to judge.”
“She’s not here because of me,” Lord Harrison said. For the first time since Regina had met him, he sounded wrong-footed.
“Lying is unbecoming,” Cora said. She was still looking at her cards. “You two make a perfectly lovely couple, Harrison. I don’t see why you flounder so.”
Regina wanted to say that they were certainly not a couple. But the words were stuck in her throat. She was so shocked she couldn’t speak. They thought she and Lord Harrison were—like Lord Mannis and Miss Eliza?
“Now that we’ve all got that out in the open,” Lord Quentin said, “Where are you from, Miss Regina?”
Regina looked at Lord Harrison. She still couldn’t manage to form words so she hoped he would notice her soundless plea for guidance.
Lord Harrison looked at her. His gaze was dark and surprisingly protective. “Rather bad luck here, Puck.” The nickname made her feel warm inside. Like it was his way of telling her she was safe.
“Her father is Lord Hartfield,” he said. His eyes didn’t leave Regina’s as he spoke. “She’s the youngest of his five daughters.”
Cora finally looked up from her cards. “I do know you,” she said. There was an odd note in her voice. “Oh, but you were just a child. You were seven when I last saw you. Or perhaps eight.”
“You knew my family?” Regina had never heard of the Dunhills.
“This was before your mother passed away,” Cora said. “I should have known. You have her eyes.”
Cora gave a little sigh. “She was a most remarkable woman, you know. I was the little spitfire as a child, let me tell you. I admired your mother to distraction. My own mother was a rather stern woman.”
“Still is,” Lord Mannis quipped. “I’m certain that last time we met she tried to set me on fire with her gaze alone.”
“Your mother was so close to her daughters. They all worshipped her.” Cora sounded unbearably happy and sad all at once. “I was envious. I wanted a mother like her.”
Then she laughed. “Oh you should have heard me when the rumors started. Saying your mother was having an affair. I defended her. Quite loudly and rudely, in fact. I offended a great many people.”
“How is it that I have never heard of you?” Regina asked. Bridget had never mentioned them knowing a Lord or Lady Dunhill or their child.
“My parents had already thought your family a bit below our standing,” Cora explained. “Once I started making a nuisance of myself over your mother, they found it the perfect excuse to end our acquaintance.
“And I’m not at all surprised you’ve never heard of us. I fear your sisters quite forgot about the skinny little girl they used to know. Your mother’s death threw your household into quite the tizzy. I know Bridget had a time of it. She’d become the lady of the household. And at such a young age.”
“What was she like?” Regina asked. “Bridget, I mean.”
Cora cleared her throat. “She was—well. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you of her virtues. From what I hear she’s quite the belle of the ball. She was rather the same as a child.
“I was always getting her into trouble. Poor thing was a saint to put up with me. My greatest joy in life was disobeying my parents. I often dragged Bridget along with me in my schemes. She was too sweet a girl to say no.”
“You ought to come and visit her,” Regina said. “We are in sore need of friends right now. I am certain she would welcome your presence.”
To her surprise, Cora went a little pale. “Oh, no. I’m sure I am not wanted. Your sister has forgotten me, I am certain.”
Regina was surprised. Bridget would never forget so dear a friend as it seemed Cora had been. And she knew of no one who wouldn’t want to spent time with Bridget.
Before she could say anything, Lord Harrison spoke up. “I thought we’d come to play cards, hmm? I plan to clean you all out by the end.”
“You always clean us all out,” Miss Eliza replied. “Would it do you injury to let someone else win for once?”
“Come now, you know that would injure his pride,” Lord Mannis said. “And in front of his lady, as well.”
“She’s not my lady,” Lord Harrison said. His jaw, Regina noticed, was firmly clenched.