It always seemed as though every time Lucy went to a social gathering, something would happen to ruin it for her. Perhaps her mother was right, though. Perhaps it wasn't men, or social expectations, or even other people that made her social life complicated and frustrating. Perhaps it was just her. Perhaps she was the sort of unlikeable, annoying, childish person who nobody could stand, but they were too polite to say anything to her face, so they did everything they could just to get her to go away.

She stood on the porch, to the side, away from the door, in the afternoon shade, wondering if she should even bother going in or just take the coach back home. But at least she knew she had some friends in there. Antoinette was truly her friend, and it seemed as though Duke Perry wanted to be a friend to her too. And two good friends would be worth enduring all the two-faced people in the world.

She was determined to make her way back into the reception fresh-faced and confident. Sneaking in, she found the ladies' room to wash away her tears and apply a new layer of makeup before she moved on to lunch. The people who loved her, however few, would not mind waiting. And those who did not love her would not notice her unless they found something to criticize. She would not give them the satisfaction.

Once she was confident she looked pristine, and only a vague hint of puffiness remained, she made her way through to the dining room and looked for Antoinette, so that they could sit together. But as she emerged from the hall, she spied a flash of bright blonde hair. Clara. She was back from Lord Jones's house. Where they had been... No. She did not want to think about it. It was not necessary.

Spotting Antoinette and Duke Perry already seated further up the table, Lucy made her way over to them, avoiding making eye contact with Clara. It would be for the best that they just not talk, or even acknowledge one another, ever again.

As she approached Antoinette immediately noticed something was wrong. She stood up and invited Lucy to the empty seat beside her.

“Please, sit with me,” Antoinette insisted. “You seem troubled?”

Lucy followed Antoinette's directions and settled in, looking down the table a little nervously. “Clara Neal is here,” she said.

“That's nice. The two of you got along when you last met, did you not?” Antoinette said, returning to her seat.

“It's just that... It's just that when I was at Lord Jones's house she was there,” Lucy said.

Antoinette nodded. “I... I do not see, if I am honest with you.”

“She and Lord Jones were alone there. They went to his house to spend some time together,” Lucy nodded down the table.

Antoinette's eyes followed the direction of Lucy's nod. “That makes sense. They left together.”

“And they were there alone? Not even the servants were home. Lord Jones even lied about her being there at first,” Lucy continued. She was not sure whether to drop a heavier hint or just say it outright to Antoinette. Was it right? Was it even necessary? “He said nobody was home, and when I heard her moving around he said it was a maid.”

“Well, there is nothing wrong with that,” Antoinette replied. “Perhaps they were talking about something private. The two of them need to discuss what happened, and to find some sort of closure before they can move on with their lives.”

“I am not sure 'closure' is what I would call what I saw,” Lucy replied.

Antoinette raised an eyebrow and seemed a little excited at the sound of gossip. “What did you see?”

Well, it was too late now. She had begun to tell Antoinette, so she had to finish. And besides, what did it matter if others would call her a gossip, or Clara would be angry? Antoinette was her friend, and friends came before society.

“He was kissing her,” Lucy replied. “He lied to me about her being there, and I caught him kissing her, and then he begged for my forgiveness.”

“That is,” Antoinette paused and looked into her wine, as though trying to find the right words, “unexpected.”

Lucy nodded. “I'll say. Especially after everything he said about her.”

“And everything she kept saying about moving on,” Antoinette continued. “I suppose it is one of those cases where the more someone talks about something, the guiltier they are of it.”

“Is that true?” Lucy asked.

“What?” Antoinette responded.

Lucy paused. “Is it true that the more you talk about something, the guiltier you are of it, even if you speak badly of it?”

Antoinette shrugged. “In their case it seems to be. Though... It'd be best not to say anything to anyone else.”

“How come?” Lucy asked, baffled and slightly annoyed that Antoinette was telling her what to do. “They are the ones that did it. Why should it be my fault if I tell others what I saw? If they hadn't wanted anyone to know about it, they should never have done it in the first place.”

“It is not worth ruining three lives over, Lucy,” Antoinette insisted in a low voice. “They will not have another chance. Hopefully they will seek to redeem themselves.”

“But what if they continue to try it? Does Edmund not deserve to know? What if Lord Jones chose to marry? Would his wife not deserve to know?” Lucy insisted.

Antoinette shook her head. “People do bad things. What they have done so far may be very innocent. No worse than yourself or I have done. If they continue to do it when they are married that is another matter entirely. But why would you ruin someone's entire marriage over a few seconds of poor judgement?”

“I suppose you are right,” Lucy replied. “I saw nothing else.”

“And God has a way of making these things right if they do not redeem themselves,” Antoinette added.

“What if I am God's way of making thing's right?” Lucy said slightly spitefully.

“No, you are just angry at them for being hypocrites. It helps nobody, Lucy, let it go,” Antoinette insisted.

Lucy pursed her lips and glared down the table. “Very well. I shall trust your judgement.”

She still felt slightly bitterly towards Clara, but Antoinette was right. Who would she help by telling others what she had seen?

“I'm going to find my husband,” Antoinette said, slightly exasperated. “You wait for me here and I will be right back.”

Lucy watched as Antoinette walked out into the hallway. She carried on sipping her wine, wondering if her mother would be angry that they were not sitting together, or too distracted socializing to notice. She also wondered whether her mother realised how hurtful she had been, or even cared. Perhaps she was wallowing in guilt this very moment. Perhaps she thought she had done Lucy a favour...

A hand landed on her shoulder. Thinking it was Antoinette, Lucy turned around from the waist, smiling and getting ready to start talking again. But it was not Antoinette. A pretty blonde woman smiled down at her.

Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin. “Clara?” she asked. “How... surprising.”

“Lucy... we need to talk,” Clara said. Lucy then noticed the tension and nervousness in Clara's smile, and the beads of sweat on her forehead. “In private, if we can.”

Lucy was not sure about this. But she was also dying of curiosity to see what Clara might say about the situation. She nodded, stood up, and followed Clara out of the room, down the hallway, and into a little empty room that looked as though it had at one time been a cloakroom.

“What is it you need to say?” Lucy asked. She was trying not to sound too curious, but she knew it was obvious. Then again, what did it matter? It was clear Clara needed to get this off her chest.

“I just wanted to apologize for what you saw,” Clara said nervously. “For what we did. I got carried away. It was never supposed to happen.”

“I should say,” Lucy replied. “You and he are no longer engaged. What would Edmund think?”

“That's precisely it,” Clara said, “he can never find out.”

Lucy scowled. “I am not sure if it is the right thing, to keep this from him,” she said. Regardless of what she had told Antoinette, Clara did not know she was not going to tell anyone. And she got a little bit of satisfaction from tormenting her.

“I know that you love Andrew, but there are better ways of handling this,” Clara insisted.

Lucy shook her head. “You do not understand, I am not interested in him. I shall become a nun by next year.”

“But you do love him,” Clara replied. “Just because you cannot have him does not mean you do not love him. It's plain to everyone.”

“Is it?” Lucy asked.

“It is. And that is precisely why you cannot tell a soul. They will just think you are being jealous of him,” Clara said.

Lucy could see what Clara was doing. She could see that she was just trying to get Lucy to back down by threatening her with humiliation.

“I swear, I shall not tell a soul,” Lucy reassured her.

“Oh thank you,” Clara said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I knew I could trust in you. You will not regret this. It is better for everyone this way.”

Lucy nodded. “Of course it is.”

Clara wrapped her arms around Lucy in a spontaneous embrace. “You are a wonderful person, Lucy. Now, let us return to lunch.”

Lucy nodded again in agreement and followed Clara. She had nothing else to say. Clara's transparent attempt at manipulating her had made her angrier than before. But it didn't change anything in reality. Clara being mean did not change Lucy's agreement with Antoinette, or the situation for the three people whose lives would be ruined should Lucy say what she had seen.

Although her heart was breaking in two, she knew nothing could be gained by bringing it out into the open.

“What did happen in there?” Lucy asked softly as they approached the dining room.

Clara paused. “Oh, you know men,” she said, shrugging. “They do not know what they are doing most of the time.”

“I'm sorry about all the trouble,” Lucy said.

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” Clara shook her head. “It was not right. It will never happen again.” She pulled the door open and they both began to walk back towards the table.

Lucy nodded. “You still love him also, it is understandable. I suppose I ought to apologize to Andrew for storming out,” she said, looking around.

“Oh, he's not here. He stayed back at his house,” Clara replied.

“Did he have anything to do?” Lucy asked.

Clara shrugged. “I do not think so. I think he was just a little alarmed by all that happened this afternoon, and needed a break.”

Lucy was a little surprised. “Why not? If it was all a misunderstanding, then—”

“It's not a misunderstanding,” Clara interrupted and a hoarse whisper. “What you saw was what was happening. He and I still love one another very much. And just because we cannot be together does not mean we have stopped loving. I am sure you of all people understand that. Now, let us not speak of this in public.”

Lucy nodded. Still, something felt wrong. Besides the fact that Andrew and Clara were seeing one another behind Edmund's back. Besides Clara's attempts at manipulation. Something was quite simply, purely, wrong. She could not put her finger on it, but the whole situation was a mess.

Looking over to her seat, Lucy saw Antoinette and Duke Perry had returned. But before she could walk over she felt Clara tug insistently on her sleeve.

“Come, let us sit with your mother a while. She seems to want you back with her,” Clara said.

Looking over to where Clara had been seated, Lucy saw an empty seat either side of Edmund. To the other side of one of the empty seats were Lord and Lady Fitz. Lady Fitzgerald's eyes were fixed on her daughter somewhat apologetically. Lucy looked from Antoinette to her mother. She wanted to sit with Antoinette. But Antoinette would be understanding if she sat with her family. Whereas her mother would take it as a personal insult should she sit with Antoinette.

She nodded and made her way over to the seats, smiling to her mother to reassure her that no offence had been taken.

Sitting between her father and Edmund, Lucy felt pangs of guilt. How could she let Clara continue to lie to this good young man? But would he not be more hurt to discover the lie?

Antoinette had said that so long as nobody found out and they did not repeat their indecency, nobody had been hurt. But Clara had just confessed she was still in love with Lord Jones. And it was quite likely he was still in love with her too. If they had not been able to keep apart for a few months, would Clara really be able to abstain for the rest of her life?

It was quite likely that they would repeat their indecency. They would do it again before the wedding, that was for sure. And once Clara was married... would they do it then also? Lucy already knew that Lord Jones had no respect for marriage, so would he respect Clara and Edmund's vows? It was bound to fall apart eventually.

It was too much. Perhaps if she confessed it herself, the weight would be off her chest? And yet she could not bring herself to. She could not tell anyone, not even a member of the clergy. What if the pastor who listened to her confession was the same one to conduct Clara and Edmund's wedding? What if he advised her to tell Edmund? Lucy was not sure she could handle the burden of correcting her own sins.

Some nun she would make.

She watched Clara and Edmund talking and laughing together. If all marriages were just political shams anyway, then she would fix nothing by telling anyone. And if they were not, she would break Edmund's heart. She would never get Andrew either way. What was the point?