Chapter 32 - Thirty Two
In the quiet, sun-drenched drawing room of the Ellington manor, Baroness Augusta sat serenely in her favorite armchair, a delicate porcelain teacup held in her hand and a small smile on her face. The chaos from the street outside had been swept away by the servants, and a semblance of aristocratic order had been restored. Sitting across from her, looking slightly disheveled but immensely pleased with herself, was Lady Pembroke.
"You are really a great actress, Lady Pembroke," Augusta said, her voice a smooth, approving purr. She took a slow, deliberate sip of her tea, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a smile that did not hold any real warmth. "I do hope you weren’t actually hurt in the fall?"
Lady Pembroke waved a dismissive hand, though she subtly rubbed her elbow. "I’m fine, Baroness, perfectly fine. A small price to pay." She leaned forward, her expression turning anxious, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "But... will this truly work? Will this cause Delia to take George back? Are you absolutely sure?"
Augusta placed her teacup back on its saucer with a soft clink. "Of course," she replied with unshakable confidence. "Delia is just having illusions of grandeur. She got a taste of a world she does not belong in, and it confused her." She picked up a small biscuit from the silver tray. "We simply need to trap her, cage her and completely break her down, strip away these foolish fantasies, so that she can be herself again—the obedient, manageable girl she was always meant to be."
Augusta paused, taking a small, neat bite of the biscuit. "And then," she continued, dabbing her lips with a linen napkin, "we can welcome her back into the fold with grace. We will forgive her for her momentary madness and set her back on track. It is what’s best for all of us, after all." She looked at Mrs. Pembroke from over the rim of her teacup, her gaze sharp and meaningful. "Isn’t that right, my dear in-law?"
The words ’in-law’ were like music to Mrs. Pembroke’s ears. Her worried expression instantly lit up with greedy delight. "Are we still to be in-laws, then, Baroness?" she asked, her voice full of hope.
"But of course," Augusta smiled, a gesture of great generosity. "We can’t simply throw away our family’s long-standing relationship because of a child who is confused." Her eyes were kind, but her words held the cold precision of a business transaction.
She reached for a heavy velvet pouch that sat on the table beside her. As she picked it up, it let out a soft, promising jingle of coins. The sound made Mrs. Pembroke’s eyes widen, and a greedy smile spread across her face.
Augusta handed her the pouch. "You did very well today," she said, her tone that of a master praising a servant. "If you still feel any pain from your little performance, you should see a doctor. This should cover the expense, and more."
Lady Pembroke collected the pouch with unconcealed joy, her fingers closing tightly around the velvet. She could feel the weight and shape of the numerous gold coins inside. While Augusta looked up the grand staircase towards Delia’s room, a thoughtful, calculating expression on her face, Mrs. Pembroke discreetly opened the pouch under the cover of the table and began to count the coins, her lips moving silently.