Lady Unveiled (Daughters of Sin 5)

Lissa had assumed her look of polite disinterest that Kitty had come to realize hid so much of what she was feeling. “I can do quite well without making the acquaintance of Countess de Lieven,” she said airily, though she changed her tune when Ralph said, in the fond and jocular way Kitty had noticed swayed Lissa every time.

“Come, my dear, it never hurts to court the good offices of those who are in a position to advance us all. I quite like the bland fare served at Almacks, but I’d much rather be able to sample it in your company.”

So Kitty followed her vain and self-important sister to the influential Countess de Lieven, and exchanged a smile with her beloved and down-to-earth one along the way, noting that all the while Ralph’s brother hovered not so far away.

She put her head close to Lissa’s, and whispered, “Do you suppose Araminta will lose interest in poor Lord Ludbridge before her mourning period is officially over?”

Lissa shook her head. “I think Teddy’s slavish devotion is far more to her taste—when she needs someone dependable—than the dangerous charms of anyone more exciting. No, I believe I shall soon find myself bound even closer to our sister than you before the year is out.”

And so, after the public endorsement conferred upon the two hitherto unacknowledged Partington ‘bastards’, Kitty and Lissa returned to their adoring husbands who whisked them into two separate carriages, at last, to take them to the palatial new residences they could now occupy as fully accepted members of the haut ton. And there they enjoyed what every bride in love looks forward to with such anticipation—learning how to please and be pleased by their husbands in the marital chamber.

And Araminta, fueled with the success of having secured her own future through elevating the half-sisters she’d once despised, happily went home alone then waited with genuine anticipation for the secret visit of her darling Teddy, which would occur at the same dependable time of eleven p.m.

She thought it rather a good feeling to be known for doing a worthy service, as she signed the monthly letter of credit her supposedly-dead husband relied upon to keep up a modicum of his wicked old ways in whatever den of vice he’d chosen to inhabit on the Continent as the price for keeping his life. He’d been lucky, but perhaps clever, too, in dodging the deadly blades of the water wheel before he’d swum to freedom.

Thank the good lord that with Debenham considered dead, Araminta could hold his estates in trust for young William. He would never be able to return home unless he was prepared to accept his sentence of death.

And if perchance the Thames or the sea disgorged some unrecognisable corpse, Araminta would find a way to identify it as her husband.

Meanwhile, Araminta was rather looking forward to the novelty of being known for her goodness and charity, acknowledged as the architect of her sisters’ acceptance by respectable society.

Thus transformed, a whole new world beckoned.

Epilogue

Sybil felt surprisingly emotional as she gazed at her two daughters, who were chatting on the steps of the church in the few minutes before the christening of Araminta’s twin daughters, Arabella and Theodosia.

As usual, Araminta cut a dashing figure, her gown of heavy mourning a distinct contrast to her animation. Sybil thought the veiled adoration on Lord Ludbridge’s face as he waited for her a few steps farther up was hardly surprising. Most men behaved like moths to a flame when Araminta smiled in their direction. Lord Ludbridge had been loyal when Araminta had needed him, and no doubt held high hopes he’d be repaid when Araminta’s twelve months of mourning was over. Meanwhile, Hetty was looking lovelier and more serene than Sybil had ever seen her. Marriage clearly agreed with her.

It was hard to imagine that Araminta was now a mother of three—and a widow within two years of her marriage. So much had happened since Debenham’s terrible death. The truth was that he’d not been mourned. His crimes were abominable—those that were publicly acknowledged. Stephen had told her there were many others that would not be aired in the public arena since he was not alive to defend himself.

As a widow, Araminta had garnered far more public sympathy than Sybil would have expected, given the litany of Debenham’s misdeeds. However, her eldest daughter seemed to have a gift for turning a situation to her advantage, and influential members of society were publicly lauding her as a heroine for having survived the trials to which Debenham had no doubt subjected her.

Astonishingly, Araminta had chosen as the godmothers of her infants, former actress

Kitty La Bijou, now Lady Silverton, and one-time governess Larissa Hazlett, now Mrs. Ralph Tunley. Sybil had been surprised at how painful she’d found the experience when Lord Partington had acknowledged the two young women as his daughters not long after Debenham’s broken body had been identified, washed out to sea several months after his death.

She’d been equally surprised at how short-lived her angst had been after she had realized Kitty was the young girl she’d comforted during Araminta’s birthday ball and to whom she’d taken an instant liking. Sybil had been touched to learn that the words of wisdom she’d imparted during their exchange had led to Kitty renouncing Lord Silverton as her lover. And now she’d married him.

That would not have been possible had Kitty not acted with honor, and followed through with her painful and noble act in leaving Lord Silverton completely unencumbered to wed the deserving Miss Octavia Mandelton, whom Araminta had reported was on surprisingly friendly terms with Kitty and who’d declared herself far happier living quietly in the country.

Then there was Lissa, whom Sybil remembered had come to the house several years before supposedly seeking funds for a village school she’d wanted to set up. Sybil remembered the revulsion and anger that had surged through her veins when she’d realized the identity of the girl.

Now she understood how the girl had suffered through no fault of her own. Humphrey had condemned her and her sister to live life as outcasts, just as he’d condemned Sybil to a cold and passionless marriage.

When Sybil saw how deeply the girl loved her new husband, charming and genial Mr. Ralph Tunley, and her determination to make the world a better place, it gladdened Sybil’s heart to know that sometimes truly deserving people were blessed with happiness.

The revelation that Kitty and Lissa were Lord Partington’s illegitimate daughters had been regaled with spurious glee in all manner of muckraking newspapers, as well as respectable news sheets. However, it had also been reported they’d played major roles in bringing to light Lord Debenham’s part in terrorizing the ton with his propensity to reveal their secrets, so Humphrey, Lord Partington, his wife and both legitimate and illegitimate daughters had withstood the scandal. In fact, they’d grown stronger.

She turned as her hand was surreptitiously seized for a quick squeeze before it was almost instantly released. Stephen had just passed by to join the two sisters, but now he hesitated, then took a few steps toward Sybil as if to address her in the fond but distant manner disinterested onlookers would expect, given the nature of their formal relationship. Theirs was one pairing that would not be condoned were it to be revealed, yet its foundation of honest and enduring love gave it the stability to satisfy Sybil. For twenty years, she’d survived a marriage without love. Stephen’s love was a blessing she did not take for granted and never would. It imbued each day with a sense of wonder and enchantment. Their child, Celia, would grow up in the belief that Humphrey, Lord Partington, was her father, yet knowing the love of both her real parents. Sometimes such compromises had to be made for the happiness of all.

Sybil stepped a little to the side as the attention turned to the squalling infants, now being borne by Kitty and Lissa into the church in the wake of Araminta and Hetty.

“You must be very proud of your daughters,” Stephen said. “And your granddaughters, though Lord knows you barely look old enough to be a mother, let alone a grandmother.”

Sybil rolled her eyes, unable to keep the affection out of her tone as she replied. “Yes, both of them. Araminta truly has distinguished herself by her dignity as a young widow.”

“I can only admire the manner in which she’s refused to be tainted by her husband’s sins.” Stephen’s tone was wry. “In fact, I am full of admiration for the way in which she’s turned Debenham’s villainy to her advantage. But now, Hetty is beckoning to us. She’s blooming, isn’t she? Sir Aubrey has been a better match than I expected. Well, no secrets between them. That helps.”