Bridgette waved a hand. “In the drawing room, if you please,” she said, hastily. “And have someone sent up to sit with Sarah. I intend to hire someone to care for her, but a maid will do for the moment.”
The maid nodded and hurried from the room, leaving Bridgette and Lord Millerton alone again. They held each other’s gaze for a short time, an unspoken understanding between them. They each felt the frustration of being so close to something, so near to an answer, only to have it pulled from them. Their hearts both ached with sympathy and compassion for the lady before them, not judging her character based simply on her profession but rather seeing her as a scared young lady with very little opportunity waiting for her. She had been afraid, Lord Millerton had said, and that tugged at Bridgette’s heart.
“I should go,” Lord Millerton said, as he began to walk towards the door. “I should go to speak to Lord Monteforte and Lord Watt, before we meet tomorrow evening.”
“Of course.” Bridgette fell into step beside him, casting an anxious glance back towards Miss Sarah. “Do you think she will recover?”
Lord Millerton could only shrug. “I could not rightly say, Lady Callander,” he said, quietly. “But I will pray that she does, for all our sakes.”
“Oh, Lady Callander, I am so very glad to see you!”
Bridgette smiled despite the anxiety in her heart as Lady Madeline clutched at her hand, the soiree well underway.
“You are quite well, I hope?” Lady Madeline’s eyes were roving over Bridgette’s face, and Bridgette lifted one shoulder.
“There is someone ill within my household, that is all,” she said, as Lady Madeline’s eyes widened. “But I hope she will recover.” Putting a warm smile on her face, she reached out and pressed Lady Madeline’s hand. “Now, what is it that troubles you?”
“There are simply far too many gentlemen here this evening, who are all far too eager to make their acquaintance with me,” Lady Madeline said, sounding quite distraught. “I should be grateful, I know, but I find it quite wearisome having to engage in banal conversation and so I have avoided them as best as I can.”
Bridgette let out a small chuckle. “I quite understand,” she said, with a wry smile. “I confess I have avoided Lord Mayfair’s conversation this evening, even though he continues to wander in my direction.”
Lady Madeline pressed one hand to her heart. “If only they would understand that we are simply not interested in them,” she said, dramatically. “Although I have noticed that a particular gentleman is paying you some very close attentions, Lady Callander.”
“Oh?” Bridgette felt a small blush catch her cheeks but quickly tried to suppress any sort of embarrassment. “What can you mean?”
Lady Madeline waggled a finger. “Lord Millerton was very attentive to you the last time we saw each other,” she said with a teasing smile. “And this evening, I have already seen you engaged in conversation with him on two separate occasions.”
Bridgette wanted to protest, to state that she had been talking to Lord Millerton of serious matters only but knew that she could not. Lady Madeline did not need to know anything of what she had been discussing with Lord Millerton and certainly could not know of Sarah, who was still lying, unconscious, in Bridgette’s guest bedchamber.
“He is interested in you, I think,” Lady Madeline said, a flicker of interest in her eyes. “You do not turn away from him as readily as you do others.”
Trying to find what would be a reasonable answer, Bridgette spread out her hands. “That is because I find him interesting,” she answered, not untruthfully. “And you?” she asked, desperate to change the subject. “Do you find any gentleman of your acquaintance to be of particular interest?” She expected Lady Madeline to laugh and wave a hand, throwing the question aside, and was, therefore, rather surprised when the lady considered the question carefully, tilting her head to one side and allowi
ng her gaze to rove about the room.
“I confess to you, Lady Callander — Bridgette, I mean — that Lord Chesterfield has been very attentive of late.” Her lips twisted and her eyes darkened just a little. “That could, of course, mean very little given that he is something of a flirt and likes very much to engage in the company of ladies such as myself without having any specific intentions.”
“Lord Chesterfield,” Bridgette repeated, rolling the name across her tongue and trying to work out if she knew the fellow. Her expression brightened. “Ah, yes, I recall him now. You introduced me to him, I believe.”
Lady Madeline nodded. “I did.”
Bridgette recalled a bright, rather loud gentleman, whose eyes she had considered to be kind. Her smile lingered as Lady Madeline let out a huff of breath, her eyebrows lowering.
“You do not want to be intrigued by him, I surmise,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “And yet, you cannot help it.”
“As I believe I said before, Bridgette, I know of his character and find his inclination towards flirtation and his assured confidence in himself to be most infuriating,” Lady Madeline said, a little too sharply. “And yet…..” Her expression softened and she shook her head to herself. “I cannot quite understand it myself and it irritates me more than I can express.”
Still smiling, Bridgette allowed herself a small shrug. “Then might I suggest, Lady Madeline, that you permit his attentions and see what might become of it all,” she said, quietly, as Lady Madeline let out a huff of breath. “You cannot tell where such a thing might lead.”
“And yet I am still entirely disinclined towards matrimony,” Lady Madeline said, firmly. “I am quite determined.”
Bridgette, who silently thought that an attraction towards a gentleman, which might soon turn to regard would remove all barriers to such a thing, remained silent and simply smiled.
“Oh, Bridgette, you must help me,” Lady Madeline cried, going from determined to anxious in only a breath. “Will you speak with Lord Chesterfield? Will you tell me your opinion of him, just as we have previously agreed?”
Having not expected to be thrust into such a situation so quickly after their agreement, Bridgette was startled for a moment at the fervor that poured from Bridgette’s lips, only to nod her agreement, smiling warmly as she did so. “But of course,” she said, thinking to herself that it might be an adequate distraction from her own thoughts as regarded Lord Hazelton’s death and the now very ill young lady lying in her sickbed. “Is he present this evening?”
Lady Madeline nodded, biting her lip and showing such a state of vulnerability that Bridgette was quite surprised to see her so. Lady Madeline always exuded confidence and assurance and so to see her now, looking quite anxious and a little unsure was something of a startling transformation. Bridgette guessed that there was more to Lady Madeline’s considerations for Lord Chesterfield than she wanted to admit, perhaps even to herself, which made her all the more eager to help her friend.