Heiress Without a Cause

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The next morning, in the breakfast room, Madeleine had a revelation.

Gin may have been called "blue ruin" by the lower classes, but champagne was the devil's drink.

At least she was still feigning her reducing diet to avoid dinner parties. Even the smell of the rasher of bacon on the sideboard made her stomach heave. She nibbled a dry piece of toast, for once grateful that she was confined to bread. She still felt unsettled, though, like the room would start spinning again if she moved her head.

"Can I bring you anything else, my lady? Kippers, perhaps?" Chilton asked.

She put her hand to her mouth at the thought. The butler had already given her a once-over when she arrived for breakfast; he must have seen her come home the night before. But the end of the ball was a hazy, champagne-drenched blur, and she did not remember preparing for bed.

She declined the offer. The unusual good humor on his face suggested that he knew what was wrong with her. Chilton had been a fixture in the house since she arrived in London, and he sometimes betrayed an amused, affectionate nature at odds with his choice of careers. She should have been mortified - but of all the things she had done in the past few weeks, arriving at the breakfast table still suffering from the effects of too much champagne was the least of her sins.

Aunt Augusta entered the breakfast room, her forehead wrinkled with concern. She did not take a plate from the sideboard; it was well past the time she usually broke her fast. She sat down across from Madeleine and gave her a searching look. "Are you alright, my dear? I heard about your encounter with Lady Greville at the ball last night."

No doubt everyone had heard about their conversation. A notorious widow confronting a prim spinster about the most eligible bachelor of the season was too juicy to ignore. "Lady Greville said nothing I could not deal with."

Her aunt frowned. "Then why were you foxed when we came home last night? I wanted to ask you then, but you were not in any state to answer questions."

A wave of nausea hit her, but she couldn't evade Aunt Augusta's questioning. "I may have been a bit startled by Lady Greville. The duke sought to calm my nerves and I had more champagne than I intended."

"You must have drunk a whole bottle to leave you in the state you were in," Augusta said. Then her voice softened. "I cannot blame you, though. Lady Greville used to be a sweet woman, but she is not someone I would recommend knowing now."

"Then you aren't angry that I had so much champagne?" Madeleine asked, feeling a little like she was nine years old again, new to England and this house.

Aunt Augusta laughed. "I've had too much champagne before myself. There's no harm in it occasionally, but you should not do it every night. It would be hard to chaperone Rothwell's sisters if you develop a reputation for overindulgence."

Madeleine did not want the reminder of her responsibilities. She was supposed to go to Rothwell House in a few hours to make plans for their debut, but she was not eager to see the twins if they were still openly hostile.

Augusta interrupted those thoughts, and her tone snapped Madeleine back to attention. "I do hope you know that if something is troubling you, you may always come to me? You have not seemed yourself in weeks..."

She trailed off, hoping that Madeleine would open her heart in the silence. Madeleine smiled tightly, nodding her agreement. If she could take Aunt Augusta into her confidence, it would all be easier - but Augusta would never permit her to act, let alone spend time with Ferguson as his supposed mistress.

Her aunt sighed. "Very well. If I can be of help, though, do let me know? Perhaps you can retire to Lancashire early this summer if you are still bent on avoiding society."