Without offering his hand to Lady Demeroven or a look to anyone around them, he stumbles off toward the house, leaving Lady Demeroven there on the ground, the party staring aghast. Gwen looks around and finds most of the girls now standing with their mothers, openly whispering.
Beth, horrified, hurries forward to help her mother up with as much pride as they can manage. Lady Demeroven takes her hand and together they get her to standing. The usually poised woman brushes herself off and offers a thin, guilty smile to the guests.
“My apologies for the excitement. I think Miss Demeroven and I should retire—I’m feeling a bit unwell myself. Lady Gwen, you’ll make sure your father is all right?”
“Of course,” Gwen says, meeting Beth’s eyes, both of them shocked by just how astoundingly poorly that went. “Farewell, Lady Demeroven,” she adds, curtsying.
That seems to jolt everyone out of their shock. Lady Kingsman steps forward to see the Demerovens out, while the party resumes otherwise. Gwen imagines this will be the talk of many a future garden party. Whether she or Beth will be invited remains to be seen.
She supposes she can kiss her afternoon of duets with Beth goodbye too.
“That went very well,” Albie says, coming up to her side with Meredith in tow.
Gwen clenches her jaw and whacks his arm before stalking off, intent on finding her father and making their own hasty retreat.
Chapter Five
Beth
The sun beats down on the park and Beth feels a trickle of sweat making its way along the back of her neck. She’s glad they’ll at least have the evening to themselves tonight. She doesn’t think her hair will have survived being under her bonnet all afternoon.
Mother wipes daintily at her face with a lace handkerchief and sighs. Beth glances up at her and then looks back out at the park, barely listening as Mother returns to her endless list of eligible young men and the family fortunes that come with them.
They didn’t speak for the rest of the day after the croquet fiasco. And the next morning her mother came down to breakfast with an intensity toward Beth’s courting that was frankly frightening.
Gone are their easy morning chats over the daily papers. Gone are the chess matches and even the duets.
Breakfast teas, midmorning teas, luncheons, morning calls, picnics, and dinners have filled every available speck of time so far this week. And all of them conspicuously missing Gwen’s presence.
As if at the mere thought of her name, Beth spots Gwen across the green, stuck in a conversation with a few mothers. Achaperone, who must be her housekeeper, stands a few paces off to the side. Beth wants to walk across the park and steal Gwen away. Talk about anything other than teas and balls and courting. Ask her to finish her story about the time she and her father got stranded while boating on their lake until her housekeeper had to come get them. She got interrupted at the Gentry tea just at the part where her father had fallen into the lake, and Beth wants to know what happened. Wants to hear Gwen tell her, all the delight and mischievousness in her voice. Beth’s pretty sure Gwen pushed him in, but won’t know until she gets to talk to Gwen again.
But Mother won’t see any time spent just with Gwen as valuable. Nothing Beth does can have just one purpose anymore. It all has to be for the cause, and Beth sighs, coming back to her mother’s long tirade about—dear Lord, lace hems? Gwen catches her eye, looking woefully over at them, unable to get away and just as miserable, listening to what must be an equally boring conversation.
They can’t let their plan peter out like this.
“Could we rest, Mother?” Beth asks softly, interrupting her explanation of the various intricacies of the Halyard fortune.
Mother looks down at her and takes in the flush that must be on her cheeks and her sweating forehead. The hoop beneath her petticoats and pale purple skirts lets in some air, but even that relief isn’t enough today. The sun directly on her shoulders is starting to smart. She likely looks just as miserable as she feels. Surely a rest to recover her poise can be allowed.
“Here, darling, let’s watch the boats,” Mother agrees, guiding Beth over to the side of the lake, where they can stare out at the numerous couples out for a pleasant boat ride.
They all look about as hot and uncomfortable as she feels, but at least they’re all wanted. She watches a blond girl throw her head back, laughing. The boy across from her looks delighted. And here Beth is, standing on the shore with her mother, invisible and happy that way. The boy’s gaze looks pleasant, but she’d rather just be home reading inside away from the heat.
“What’s the matter?” Mother asks, her voice soft.
Beth looks up and finds her mother’s face cleared of its frenzied mission for the first time all week. Beth shrugs, looking back at the boats, not wanting to disappoint her, but desperate to be honest. Desperate for how it was at their manor up in the country, just the two of them and Miss Wilson, wreaking havoc and living in peace.
“I feel like livestock being measured up for sale,” Beth admits, glancing behind them, noting the gentlemen who pass, giving them appraising looks.
Mother snorts quietly and Beth meets her gaze, surprised by the amusement and understanding on her face. “It is a lot, isn’t it?” she agrees. Beth fights against gaping. “I don’t remember doing quite this much with my mother. It seemed... easier when I was your age.”
Beth considers her, thinks about the precision with which she’s attacked this whole affair. The work and effort her mother is putting in, the nights spent calculating expenses and planning daily itineraries. There’s makeup hiding her exhaustion too, and the effort to be cheerful and charming is wearing on her just as much as it is on Beth.
“I doubt that,” Beth decides.
Mother laughs and pulls her closer, her arm squeezing Beth’s. And though it’s hot, she doesn’t quite mind the proximity.
“It’s dreadful,” Mother admits, shrugging as Beth stares at her. “I only did one season and I can’t tell you the relief when I finally married your father. I’ve had twenty-two years without this,” she says almost fondly.
