The Ideal Wife(46)

The child stared at her with open mouth.

She would ask Miles if she might take the child into the country for the summer, Abigail decided later when she was upstairs getting ready to drive to her mother-in-law’s house. He was too pale and thin for a child. He needed country air and country food and some small tasks, perhaps in the stables rather than in the kitchen. And she would let him learn some lessons with Bea and Clara.

In the meantime she had an afternoon of visiting to prepare herself for. She did not much relish the thought. She had spent almost two years as companion to a woman who did almost nothing else in the afternoon but visit or be visited—and gossip endlessly. But at least it would be easy. She had already faced the ordeals of her first meeting with Lady Ripley and Constance and her first drive in the park and her first ball. Now she could relax.

It was not to be as easy as she had anticipated, however. Her mother-in-law offered a cheek for her kiss when Abigail arrived, and both she and Constance were clearly ready to go out. But neither smiled.

“We are going to call on Lady Mulligan, Mrs. Reese, and Lady Galloway,” Lady Ripley said. “If we can carry off those visits, Abigail, then all may be well after all. It will be best if we are quite frank about your circumstances before you married Miles. Constance and I, of course, will express our delight at welcoming you as a daughter- and sister-in-law.”

Abigail raised her eyebrows and looked at Constance.

“The story is out,” Constance said. “It was, even before you and Miles left last evening, Abigail, but it was unfortunate that you left early. It was the main topic of conversation after you left.”

“The Earl and Countess of Chartleigh invited us to their home for an hour,” Abigail said, “since the countess had not finished telling me all about their son during supper and Lady Beauchamp was feeling too fatigued to continue dancing. And what story is out?”She grew cold as she remembered Rachel’s presence at the ball. She should have told Miles herself, she thought, not let him find out this way, the whole ton knowing before he did.

“That you have been in service with a man who is not even a gentleman,” her mother-in-law said. “And that you were dismissed for dallying with his son.”

“Oh, is that all?” Abigail said, laughing with relief. “But I had no wish to hide those facts, ma’am. And anyone who had seen Humphrey Gill would realize how absurd that charge was. He is nineteen years old and has pimples.”

Constance smiled fleetingly but grew serious again. “Even so, Abigail,” she said, “the ton does not take kindly to welcoming into its numbers someone whose past has been sullied in any way. Miles, of course, has great influence, but we must be careful. Mama and I will do our best for you this afternoon.”

“If the ton does not take kindly to me,” Abigail said hotly, “then I shall not take kindly to the ton. I shall certainly lose no sleep over their disapproval, believe me.”

“Abigail.” Her mother-in-law’s voice was cold. “Miles has done you the great kindness to bestow the prestige and security of his name on you. A few days ago you had nothing. Now you are the Countess of Severn, the wife of one of the wealthiest gentlemen in England. I believe you owe it to him to care.”

Abigail clamped her teeth together and felt herself flush. It was true. There was no argument against such a truth, especially when it was spoken by Miles’s mother. But she would see herself in Hades before she would grovel to the ton or tiptoe about them. She had groveled once in a lifetime and was married as a result. She did not plan to lower herself ever again.

“Shall we go?” Constance slipped an arm through Abigail’s and smiled at her. “That is a very becoming dress, Abigail. Have you thought of having your hair cut? Short hair is all the crack, you know, and so easy to care for. It would suit the shape of your face.”

“I can’t,” Abigail said curtly. “Miles has ordered me not to cut it. He likes me to wear it loose at night. Besides,” she added, smiling and forgetting something of her chagrin, “if he had ordered otherwise, he would have to drag me by the hair to a hairdresser’s.”

Constance smiled uncertainly and glanced at her mother.

Abigail realized immediately on their arrival why her mother-in-law had chosen Lady Mulligan’s as a place they must visit that afternoon. She was hosting an at-home, and her drawing room was filled with fashionable ladies, all of them balancing delicate cups and saucers in one hand.

Lady Ripley linked an arm through Abigail’s as they entered the drawing room and smiled graciously as she presented her daughter-in-law to their hostess and the group of ladies surrounding her.