It was usually three or four in the morning before Beth rolled intobed, but she was not afforded the luxury of rising at noon like the restof Society. She was up in the morning for extra lessons in court etiquetteand the correct handling of social inferiors. It was strongly impressedupon her by the duchess that soon everyone short of royalty would be hersocial inferior and any mistakes in her interactions with them would bedisastrous.
Beth felt a rebellious desire to sit down with the housemaid anddiscuss the position of woman in modern society, but she knew the maidwould be as distressed by this as the duchess.
After luncheon, the cycle began again with morning visits, salons, adrive in the park, an opulent dinner, the theater, a soiree, a ball or arout. Everyone stared at her; people said the same boring things over andover. Even interesting events such as the maneuvers of Napoleon and thedefeat of Murat by the Austrians were gossiped to death with so littleinsight as to be tedious. Beth felt she never wanted to attend anothersocial event for the rest of her life.
The marquess was nearly always by her side, but they were never alone.This meant there was no opportunity to grow closer but at least they couldnot quarrel. As a consequence, he ceased to be a person to fear and evenat times became her support. He was surefooted in this quagmire and couldbe depended upon to rescue her if she faltered, if only for the sake ofthe damned pride of the de Vaux. He could even at times be depended on fora little intelligent conversation though it was clearly unfashionable tobe too serious, even about the prospect of war.
Beth constantly hoped to encounter a friend, for Miss Mallory’s hadcatered to some of the higher families and Beth had made friends with someof the girls of her own age. The friendships had lapsed as their lives hadsettled into different patterns ? Beth’s into study and teaching and herfriends’ into social life, marriage, and motherhood ? but she had everyfaith that some of them could be revived now she had entered her friends’world. She never encountered any, however, and could not always remembermarried names or even their place of residence.
Nor was she successful at making new friends. In this artificialenvironment where she felt as much an object of curiosity as a freak,there was little basis for true understanding.
Beth was sure at least some of her troubles could be laid at PhoebeSwinnamer’s door. The beauty and her mother had come up to Town, andPhoebe was affecting an air of hurt restraint as if she’d actually beenjilted. Heaven knew what stories the girl was telling, but if the marquessstopped to say good evening to her it was as if the whole room held itsbreath to listen. The one time when he was somehow inveigled into standingup with her, other dancers were tripping over each other as they attemptedto watch his every expression.
If they saw anything, they saw the marquess throw Beth a look of mockdespair which made her want to laugh. Their situation was not comfortable,but Beth was relieved to see that he was not enamored of another. Sheremembered he had expressed horror at the thought of marrying such a vainwidgeon. Poor Phoebe.
It was not so amusing however when she found herself in conversationwith the girl, aware of nearby ears stretched to catch every word.
“How tiresome for you, Miss Armitage, to have your wedding rushed so,”the girl drawled. “I would have ?” Phoebe broke off and lowered herlashes. She would doubtless have blushed had it been within her control.“Iwill,” she corrected sweetly, “insist on plenty of time to makeall proper arrangements.”
This was clearly a rehearsed speech. Beth lost all sympathy for thelittle cat. “Will you?” she said. “I am sure your husband will be pleasedto know that your desire for show and ceremony outweighs your desire to behis wife.”
The beauty stared glassily but rallied. “I merely meant. Miss Armitage,that I would wish the wedding to be done properly.”
“How kind,” countered Beth with a smile. “I’m sure the duchess wouldappreciate your advice. Pray go and tell her in what ways you think thewedding will fall short.”
Phoebe had lost her script and was close to losing her composure, whichin her case meant that the flawless perfection of her features wasslightly troubled by emotion. “La!” she said with a little laugh. “How youdo take me up. I declare it must be exhausting to converse with one soclever as you. You cannot help but be aware, Miss Armitage, that it isusual in our circles for there to be a longer period between the betrothaland the wedding.”
The “our” clearly did not encompass Beth. Beth was framing anannihilating and yet permissible reply when she became aware of themarquess beside her. “Alas Miss Swinnamer,youmust surely know,” he said with razor-edged meaning, “that Idisdain to do the usual. I’m sure one day, when some man falls into thesnare of your beauty, he will rush you to the altar just as I am rushingElizabeth.”
This masterly speech scored so many points that some titters wereheard. Mrs. Swinnamer, who had been hovering nearby, swept down toshepherd her daughter away. The mother looked flustered and angry, butPhoebe wore only the slightest frown. She glanced back once, exquisitelypuzzled, and it occurred to Beth that the girl had never considered untilthat moment that the marquess was not truly smitten by her beauty.
“I confess, I feel sorry for the poor fool,” she said to him as theymoved away from their audience toward a refreshment room.
“Don’t,” he said firmly. “She’s like a honey trap ? to be avoided atall times.”
“If you had avoided her,” Beth pointed out, “we would not be subjectedto such sugared ambushes.”
He steered her to a seat in a relatively quiet corner. “Would you likewine? Or they have negus and orgeat.”
“Negus, please.”
He signed to a hovering footman and commanded it. “If you have anycomplaint,” he said, “you must make it to my mother. She was the onethrowing the beautiful Phoebe at my head.”
“She believed her a suitable wife for you?” asked Beth, puzzled. She’dthought the duchess more astute.
“She thought her apossiblewife,” he corrected, “and was nobly willing to do herbest.” The footman arrived, and the marquess passed Beth her chilleddrink. “It was all my fault, I confess. Phoebe was making a dead set at meand I was falling into the trap. Not of her beauty,” he said, “but of herlacquered gloss. I developed an obsessive desire to disturb it. It couldhave proved fatal if I hadn’t come to my senses enough to flee her orbitentirely.”
It was one of the relaxed times when he talked to her as if she werejust another human being, and perhaps one he liked.
She sipped her drink and said, “I’m sure even Phoebe must wake up withher hair disordered and sheet marks on her cheek.”
“Do you think so?” he queried lazily. “That was one of my almost fatalquestions. Whether she could preserve the perfect finish throughout awedding night.”
Beth froze. The negus went the wrong way, and she spluttered andchoked. He rescued her glass before the contents spilled over her greensilk gown. Beth finally gasped a breath.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “I didn’t think it was quite thatfunny.”
Beth rose to her feet. “I’m perfectly recovered,” she said, withanother little cough which gave her the lie. “I think I have a partnerwaiting.”
