“Ah, Clarinda,” Lady Cawle said. “Take care of your daughter.”
Ariana’s mother had come in, but she looked between them, puzzled. “I always do.”
“Then you’re a ninny to let her get into this situation, but then you always were.”
“I must object to that,” Ariana said.
“Of course you must,” Lady Cawle said, “but it’s true. She’s too softhearted. I’d have had your brother married by now without all this pother.”
“No, you wouldn’t, because I would have stopped you. Or her...”
“Cease before you tie yourself in knots.” But Lady Cawle was smiling. “Visit me if you wish. If not, I’m sure we’ll attend some of the same events.”
Ariana and her mother offered their formal thanks and took their leave.
“I’m sorry she abused you so,” Ariana said.
“That’s all right, dear. She’s right. In the past heirs were often married off before their majority gave them any say in the matter, and she did exactly that with her own son. But I don’t think you and Norris would have been any happier for being raised by her, and your father would certainly have disliked being married to her.”
Ariana chuckled. “You have almost as much good sense as Ethel.”
Chapter 8
The town house in Brook Street was nearly as strange to Ariana as Lady Cawle’s, for she’d stayed there for only a few weeks eight years ago. It was considerably smaller, but it was their own and there was no danger of running into Kynaston in any part of it.
She would not feel regret over that.
Her mother set to taking command of the management of the house and Ariana explored the library. Her father had spent short times here each year when doing his duty in Parliament, so there were some interesting books on the shelves. As she browsed, she remembered that London offered a wealth of bookshops to plunder, and this time the books would clearly be her own.
At lunch she and her mother discussed the husband-hunting plan, but Ariana said, “There are a number of places I want to visit, Mama. The British Museum—I understand one must write to make an appointment. Mr. Soane’s private collection, and the Egyptian Hall.”
“Didn’t you say that was a rather tawdry imitation, dear, and currently housing Mr. Bullock’s stuffed animals?”
Ariana chose some pickled herring. “Yes, but I’d like to see it.”
She couldn’t say that her father had wished to visit the place to see just how poor a job had been done. His health had declined before he’d been able to do so, so she would complete his mission.
“Then seek a gentleman’s escort, dear,” her mother said.
“I don’t need protection.”
“An hour or two in a gentleman’s company will be helpful. Dancing is all very well, but simpler pursuits can be more revealing.”
“At the moment, there’s no gentleman I can summon whose escort I’d want. Churston and Blacknorton won’t do, and I’ve not yet encountered Lords Wentforth and Sellerden, or Sir Arraby.”
“Then ask Kynaston. Why stare? He escorted you to that Mr. Peake’s house.”
“Very unwillingly. I’d not impose.”
“Then perhaps Norris can take you.”
“Mama! He’d be bored to death and it would serve no marital purpose. I need to meet the other candidates before I can request their escort.”
“I’m sure you will. We already have a number of invitations. If you’re finished, we could go through them.”
Ariana participated, but they had no way to tell which events Sellerden, Wentforth, and Arranbury would attend.
Considering an invitation to a talk on the Highlands of Scotland, she said, “Perhaps I’d like to travel.”
