Seeing them hurt like fire, for they looked so splendid together, so right. They were surrounded by others whose elegance and wealth completed the picture. On Denys’s other side stood a black-haired man whose profile was distinctly familiar to her.
Jack, she realized, but the ghastly situation enabled her to take no pleasure in seeing someone who she’d once, long ago, considered a friend. On his arm was a slim, elegant blonde—his wife, no doubt.
Talking to the couple was a vivacious, dark-haired girl who bore such a striking resemblance to Denys, Lola knew she must be his sister, Lady Susan. The lady who stood beside her, a stout woman whose dark hair was streaked with gray, had to be his mother, Lady Conyers. And behind the group, facing her, stood a silver-haired, handsome man whose smiling, friendly countenance made him seem so different from the haughty earl who’d contemptuously shoved a bank draft in her face so long ago.
The sight of Earl Conyers was the last straw. It snapped her out of her momentary paralysis, and she hastily whirled around before any of them could see her. “Oh, God, Kitty, we have to leave.”
“But we’ve only just arrived.” Kitty reached out, plucking a flute of champagne from the footman as he walked by. “Why should we leave?”
“Because,” she hissed, “Denys is here.”
“Somerton? Where?”
“That way.” Lola jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Don’t look,” she added in desperation as Kitty leaned sideways, trying to look past her. “He’s scarcely twenty feet away from us.”
“Is he?” Kitty didn’t seem the least bit surprised. In fact, there was a little smile playing around her lips, and an awful idea flashed through Lola’s brain.
“You knew he’d be here,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she watched her friend shift her weight in decidedly guilty fashion. “It’s an unbelievable coincidence that he would be at the same event we are when there are hundreds of things going on in London now, and yet, you are not the least bit surprised. You knew he’d be here, didn’t you?”
Her friend wilted a bit beneath her gaze, confirming her guess. “I thought it was a possibility,” she mumbled.
“What would ever lead you to believe he’d be at a flower show?”
Kitty tugged self-consciously at her ear. “Lucky guess?” she ventured, but when Lola’s gaze narrowed still further, she gave a cough and proceeded to explain. “I heard tell that Somerton’s mother is the . . . ahem . . . patroness of this . . . umm . . . show.”
“What? Oh, my God.” All the implications of the situation struck her, and she felt suddenly sick, and furious, and humiliated. If Denys saw her, he’d think . . . oh, God, it didn’t bear imagining what he would think.
“How could you do this to me?” she demanded. “How?”
“Well, it isn’t as if you don’t have the right to attend. It’s a public event, open to all. Even those of us in the lower classes are allowed to come,” she added, unmistakable bitterness in her voice. “They just don’t think we can afford to buy their outrageously expensive tickets.”
“It doesn’t matter that we’re allowed to be here. You’ve put both me and Denys in an impossible position, don’t you see that?”
“No, I don’t.” Kitty gave a toss of her head. “Somerton’s your business partner, isn’t he? Why shouldn’t you attend his precious mother’s flower show? Why shouldn’t you speak to him? Why shouldn’t he come over here and speak to you? Maybe he’ll escort us around.”
Lola groaned, realizing just how clueless Kitty was about the social nuances of high society.
“Besides,” Kitty added as she didn’t reply, “I told you before that I want one of our lot to beat the odds. Serve his snooty family right if you married Somerton,” she added, her voice bitter from her own heartbreak. “Knock ’em all into a cocked hat, it would.”
“For the love of heaven, I told you there’s nothing romantic between—” She stopped, that kiss in Denys’s office and her own erotic imaginings from last night flashing through her mind. She took a deep breath and changed tactics. “You had no right to play matchmaker when we both know you only did it out of a desire for revenge and some cockeyed sense of social justice. How do you think this makes me appear, showing up at his mother’s charity event?”
She could hear her voice rising with panic as she asked that question, and she paused to take a deep breath before she could speak again. “We have to leave.”
“So you intend to go scurrying off as if you have something to be ashamed of? Are you supposed to avoid all the other events of the season just because he might happen to be at those, too?”
“That is not the point, and you have no idea what you’ve done, and we are leaving right now.” She grabbed Kitty’s arm, but when she glanced around she realized escape was impossible. She was hemmed in by the elegant Georgian house and three walls of wrought-iron fencing, and the only way out was through the gate, which meant she’d have to walk right past his family.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, her quick survey of her surroundings revealed the awful fact that she’d been noticed. One by one, people were turning to look at her. She watched in dismay as, one by one, the people strolling casually about the grounds stopped walking and stared, their attention fixed not on the fine day or the flowers displayed, but on her.
Oh, God, they all know who I am, she thought in horror. Probably none of these people have ever met me, and yet, they know.
She felt as if she were watching a terrible street accident unfold before her eyes as she saw heads lean together, mouths begin to move. Every single pair of eyes in the crowd now seemed fixed on her, or on Denys and his family and friends, and as their gazes darted back and forth with avid interest, it was easy to read their thoughts and hear their whispered speculations. They were all wondering how Lord Somerton’s former—or was it current?—mistress had the gall to appear at his mother’s charity event, and what was the earl going to do about it?
Wondering if she could just bolt for the exit, she cast a desperate glance over her shoulder and froze, horrified to find the earl staring straight at her. His face, so pleasant and good-natured a moment ago, was now flushed purple with anger. His lips were pressed tight, and beneath his hat, his dark gaze seemed to blaze with repressed outrage. Their gazes locked, and he stiffened, raising his chin to the haughty angle so fitting to his rank. Then, with nearly every eye in the place watching the scene, he circled the group he was with, and with slow, deliberate intent, so that anyone watching her would see his action, he took several steps toward her, then stopped, and turned his back.
Lola sucked in her breath, the blatant snub like a punch in the stomach. She knew she should look away, walk, go . . . somewhere, and yet, she could not seem to move. She felt pinned in place by a hundred gazes, like a butterfly tacked up in a display case.
Denys and the girl suddenly seemed to realize something was amiss. They lifted their heads from their intimate tête-à-tête, and that was when Denys saw her. His eyes widened in astonishment, he glanced around, then he returned his gaze to hers. In his face, she could see shock, and when he pressed his lips together, he looked every bit as angry as his father.