Chapter 2, Part I: In Which May Elegant People Gather

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It's a winter's afternoon, about two weeks after our opening chapter. We find ourselves in Lady Tanwen's home, an elegant Georgian townhouse overlooking the north of the park. This afternoon Arabella is hosting a tea party - an intimate affair of a score or two dozen people. It is the first event Arabella has hosted since her return to London, and is intended as a preliminary to her co-hosting of her half-brother's ball next week.

The great drawing room looks very elegant, I think. There are hothouse lilies and roses in great vases on either side of the door, with more delicate arrangements throughout the room. The tea table sparkles with crystal and the light from candelabra. The cook has prepared the most elegant, up to date menu, and all the seat cushions have been fluffed invitingly so that people may sit anywhere in the room and find it comfortable. I am so terribly excited I can barely breathe. I have the most perfectly fashionable deep cream dress with a pointed waist and pleated panels. My dresser has put my hair into the sweetest ringlets, and I am wearing a perfect set of pearls. Conley gave them to me as a wedding gift, along with the matching earbobs.

Conley.

I rearrange the flowers on the tea table, trying not to think about yesterday. I thought I was past feeling like that. I came home from a most pleasant card party at Mrs Wilson's. They were quite enraptured to be patronised by someone as high ranking as myself, and Miss Edith was in a perfect sulk because my dress was so fashionable, even though she hid it behind a sweet smile. It was so cheering to provoke such a response. No one has been jealous of me in ever so long. All I have had is poor thing for more than two years, and it has been enough to drive me mad. I came home, feeling rather pleased with myself, and -

It's simply that the house was very quiet, most of the servants having gone to bed, and Georgie being asleep of course. And I suddenly had a sharp memory of how Conley hated the house to be empty; the house was always filled with his friends, unless we had both been out together and he wanted to sweep me upstairs to -

I stood staring at the great portrait of him on the staircase. I have got used to passing it day by day so that I barely notice it. But he was so very handsome, and I looked at the way the artist had painted the line of his breeches and put my hand over - And the housekeeper came out, and saw me touching him, and gave me the most shocked look, as if I can't touch my husband. And I felt such shame and anger, that my husband reduced me to this by the sheer stupidity of falling off his horse and leaving me.

It took me a long time to get to sleep, but fortunately I am not puffy eyed today, having applied first hot and then cold towels scented with rose water to my face this morning. Indeed, I think I look as fresh as any girl of eighteen. I settle myself on a sofa, picking the one that places me in the most flattering light - I can tell by glancing at the great mirror on the mantelpiece - and wait for my guests to arrive.