“So what is troubling you, Ellie?” she asked quietly.
“Rumor has it that the man is as predictable as vanilla trifle after Sunday dinner,” Eleanor sighed, gazing into the depths of her tea. “I know I should not complain about such a thing, there are many ladies without a suitor—” her eyes flicked apologetically to Bridget “—but is it too much to ask for a little spontaneity in a man?”
“Maybe you can teach him spontaneity,” Josie offered. “I know they say you cannot teach an old dog new tricks but maybe you can inspire him to change a little?”
“If we marry, that is,” Ellie replied.
“And if you do not, you are still young,” Bridget added. “With two or possibly three seasons ahead of you. If this is not what you want, what is the harm in looking for another?”
“It’s not that I…” Ellie shook her head, “I feel as if I am explaining this so, so wrong. I don’t want to give up on what could be a good match, but I fear exchanging a good match for thejoie de vivreI do have.”
“Then what are you…?” Bridget did not know what to ask.
“I do not think it will be a love match, but if it is a marriage of convenience based on mutual respect and shared goals, I shan’t complain. I just don’t want to be bored out of my mind in a monotone routine,” Ellie explained.
Looking away, Bridget bit her lip. In her heart of hearts, the girl inside her believed in true love, the triumph of good over evil, and fairy tale endings, but as she grew older, her mind was changing to that of a realist.
She leaned her elbows on the table and grasped Ellie’s hand, her friend’s heart-shaped face twisting with indecision. “You’re beautiful, generous, and caring. Any sane man will see that and cater to it.”
“I agree,” Josie affirmed. “And I think you need to speak to him, tell him what you would like in your courtship and marriage, and go on from there. If he does say he will try to accommodate your wishes, watch and see if he does. Actions do trump words, dear.”
Going back to her cooling tea, Bridget sipped before plucking a warm blackberry tart from the tiered tray and nibbling on it.
“What about you, Bridget?” Ellie asked. “How are you on the marriage front?”
“For now, I prize my independence,” she said. “I do hope to go home soon, however. My brother has not sent word about the estate and no matter how many times I write to him, I get nothing back. It’s been two years and I have saved enough to return home.”
“Oh,” Josie nodded. “I assume when you return to your old station, it will be easier for you to find a fitting match.”
“Speaking of matches,” Bridget teased Josephine, “you’re one to talk. You turned down two proposals this year!”
“For the first, he proposed a marriage based on mutual respect and shared goals and was happy I am the sort of woman who keeps to herself, but He doesn’t believe in love, and told me in no uncertain terms that falling in love with him would be to my detriment,” Josephine said.
“As for the second suitor, Mother found out literally a day after the proposal, that the man was buried in debt. He hid it carefully, but apparently, a lord spotted a known gambling debt owner banging on his door, and now, it’s all over Town.”
“Goodness,” Eleanor pressed a hand to her breasts. “Thank heavens you escaped the clutches of that fortune hunter.”
Once again, her mind flew to the mysterious man who had kissed her and she fit her hands around the cup. Unsure of what to do, if she should confess what happened to her friends or keep it to herself, Bridget pulled a corner of her lips between her teeth.
What to do…what to do…
“Bridget, dear, that Ceylon tea, though fine and so gentle on the mouth as it may be, can hardly be worthy of such studious observation,” Eleanor remarked. “Would you care to discuss what is holding your attention and is clearly bothering you?”
Bridget’s eyes darted to her friend’s face. “It’s… nothing much… well, I- I don’t know if it is nothing, to be honest. What do you know, if anything, about this Beast of Brookhaven?”
Her two friends shared a look before Ellie pronounced, “He is the worst rakehell in London, or should I say,was. Years ago, every scandal sheet had his name splashed across it, alleging that he had relations with this woman or the other.”
“Itoohave read about him in the scandal sheets,” Josephine added with a gasp. “They say he is wicked and unprincipled, a ravenous wolf in lord’s clothing.”
“I’ve read one, mind just one, that described him as less than a lecherous hellhound but a handsome and masterful lover, and blessed withgodlikelooks, wealth, and charm. He was said to cause a female frenzy wherever he went.”
“Where-where do these scandal rags get that knowledge from?” Bridget felt her head start to spin.
After setting her cup down, Josie added, “One of the most lucrative scandal rags even claimed to have interviewed a few of his past lovers, but kept these women named as ‘legitimate anonymous sources,’. One of the women said his stamina is unparalleled and his tastes are diabolical.”
Her stomach twisted. Was that why he had said she tasted of innocence? Was he one of those men who demanded unspeakable things from his women?
Bridget knew it was not wise for her to know, but she asked anyway. “Diabolicalhow?”
