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Mother’s face had never before looked as determined as it did riding in the carriage toward the Duke of Clifton’s house that morning.
“You will leave the talking to me,” she said.
“Yes, Mother.”
I pushed away my apprehension as we pulled in front of the stately building. Whatever mother’s intention, Rosalynn was one of my closest friends. Surely she would understand.
Mother presented her card and minutes later the butler led us into the drawing room. Rosalynn raised her eyebrows slightly and I grimaced. I wanted her to know this wasn’t my idea. Of course, she should know me well enough to know that all on her own. I hoped.
“Lady Clifton, it has been ages since I saw you last. And you look so lovely,” Mother gushed.
“Thank you, Mrs. Cox,” the duchess said, gesturing for us to be seated. Her raven hair was pulled into an elegant knot and her gown flowed like one long strand of ribbon from her neck to the floor. “How is London treating you this Season?”
“Fabulously, your grace, like always,” Mother simpered. I wanted to hide beneath the pillow I was leaning against. I purposefully ignored Rosalynn’s amused glance. “I could not be more pleased with Elsie’s progress. She’s caught the eye of many dignified young men. She’ll have her pick between men of both title and fortune, if things continue this way.”
“How lovely,” Lady Clifton said.
“I was just telling Lady Harriet the other day—you are familiar with her, yes? Her brother is the Earl of Ford—about Lord McGregor taking my Elsie on a drive to the park.”
“Tea?” Lady Clifton lifted a teapot and began to pour.
“Two sugars, please. And the article this morning, I am just overjoyed Elsie is getting the attention she deserves. Nothing will be talked about this Season more than her, I vow.”
“You’ve not heard then?”
I heard a drip of tea fall from the suspended teapot and splash in the cup below it. Mother was not about to admit she did not know something, and Lady Clifton was merrily guarding the gossip as if she held a freshly wrapped gift. Thus, I sacrificed for the cause.
“Please fill me in, Lady Clifton,” I said. My mother sent me a glare and I quickly added, “I spend so much time dancing that I’ve hardly any time to hear the latest news.”
Rosalynn’s face was a picture of concealed mirth. I yearned to laugh but miraculously kept my face straight.
Lady Clifton took a long, slow sip of her tea and set the cup gingerly on the table. “The Green Door.”
“Pardon?”
“It is a novel,” Lady Clifton explained. “Rumor is circulating that the characters are real people. It has become something of a game to determine whose secrets the author has displayed for our entertainment.”
“Oh, that.” Mother laughed shrilly. “I know of The Green Door. I have the book in my dressing room right now, I merely have not finished it yet.”
She set her tea on the table and stood. “Come, Elsie, we have more friends to visit today. Lovely to see you, your grace.”
Lady Clifton dipped her head in acknowledgment, a smile briefly tipping the corners of her mouth. She turned to me. “You shall be out of the spotlight soon, Miss Cox. Give this book another day or two to finish circulation and I am sure no one will even remember your name ever graced the news.”
Mother’s entire face was tight when she ushered me back to the carriage. I merely held on to hope that the duchess’s words would come to fruition.
“To Hatchards,” Mother said crisply to the footman helping us into the cab. “We must buy that book.”