“It is easy to be distracted by beauty, but believe me, most of them have not a sensible thought in their pretty heads,” he said.
“And I am more interesting, am I?” she said, shaking her head, so that her black curls tossed about. “You are very full of compliments today, Bertram. If I did not know you better, I might think you were flirting with me.”
“I would not know how,” he said with perfect truth.
“Quite so. I cannot thank you enough for your help, and if I succeed in finding a husband here, I shall name my first child after you in gratitude.”
“Let us hope your first-born is a boy, then,” he said, and that set her giggling so hard that any sensible conversation was at an end, and he judged it best to take her back to the saloon.
***
Bea had dressed for the evening in the gown and hair ornaments selected by her stepmother, and was reading an ancient book of philosophy she had found in a cupboard in her bedroom, when her mama entered the room.
“Good, you are ready in excellent time, Beatrice. Gentlemen so like punctuality.”
“It would be discourteous to our hosts to be late,” Bea said, rising to make her curtsy.
“That too,” Lady Esther said calmly. “You look very presentable this evening, quite a credit to your father and me. I must say, my dear, everything is coming along very well. I noticed how Mr Bertram Atherton singled you out the moment he entered the saloon, and lost no time in taking you away. Where did you go to?”
“He wished to show me around the house, Mama, but we only went to the chapel, the colonnade and the long gallery. Was that wrong? Should I have refused? Or taken a chaperon?”
“In this case, it is perfectly acceptable… you were never anywhere other than public places, and you are as good as engaged.”
“Mama, I do not think—” Bea began in some alarm.
“One should never be over confident, naturally, but the signs are unmistakable.”
Bea did not wish to explain her arrangement to her stepmother, but neither did she wish Bertram to be bounced into an engagement. “You do not plan to… to trick him?” she said anxiously.
“Trick him? Goodness, Beatrice, you make me sound like such a scheming mama! Gentlemen sometimes need a delicate nudge to ensure they do the right thing, that is all — a little encouragement, a sign of ladylike affection.”
“A kiss?” Bea said tentatively, her mind still on the duchess’s words.
Lady Esther chuckled. “Certainly a chaste kiss can do the trick.”
Bea had no idea what a chaste kiss was, but it sounded rather agreeable. “That would not be too forward?”
“Naturally, one does not distribute kisses to all and sundry, but with a gentleman, it is perfectly safe. No true gentleman would take advantage of a little enthusiasm from a lady, and it can be a most effective device for bringing him to the point. However, Mr Atherton seems to be proceeding along the correct path all by himself, so I believe we need not intervene. We have a whole month, after all, so we may sit back and allow matters to take their course. As for being alone with him now and then, in a private party of this nature and overseen by a duke and duchess, there is not the least harm in it. Walking in the long gallery, forinstance, or in the gardens in daylight hours, can occasion not the smallest comment. Mr Atherton is a gentleman to the core, and would never do anything to put a lady to the blush.”
“And the others here… they are gentlemen also, are they not?”
“Certainly, my dear. Even those who are not nobility are gentlemen, or the duke and duchess would not have invited them. Shall we see if Mr Franklyn is ready to go down yet?”
With her list safely tucked into her reticule, Bea meekly followed her parents down to the saloon, where the company was gathering for the evening. She did not need her stepmother’s hissed warning of‘Marshfields rules!’as they entered to remind her to be on her best behaviour. Anywhere the nobility congregated in large numbers invoked Marshfields rules in Lady Esther’s eyes. This included the ballrooms and saloons of London, but principally Marshfields itself, where her very haughty relations gathered to squabble gently and reassure themselves of their unimpeachable heredity. Bea always felt very small and provincially insignificant there, where only breeding mattered and no fortune, however large, could compensate for the lack of a title.
Landerby Manor, she devoutly hoped, would be different, not least because the presiding duke and duchess were not crusty relics of a bygone age. The duchess could not be less intimidating, and her husband was cut from the same cloth, a quietly-spoken man who beamed genially at Bea, talking to her at some length about her Newcastle home and what she missed about it. It was a difficult question to answer, since the truth, that she missed almost everything, was hardly flattering to her father and stepmother. But she could not go back to those simpler times, and if she had to move in the much grander society of her stepmother, she would play the game and obey the rules until her marriage set her free.
As the saloon filled with guests, all arrayed in their most splendid evening finery in compliment to the duke and duchess, Bea soon discovered she had several rivals. She counted eight other young ladies, most of them younger than her, and two uncommonly pretty. That was disheartening. There was one advantage of so many young ladies, however, and that was that she easily discovered the most eligible gentleman in the room.
“Who is that man over there?” she whispered to the duke, when his questions about Newcastle had finally trickled to a halt. “The one almost hidden by the bevy of eager young ladies.”
The duke chuckled. “That is Embleton, poor fellow. I thank God that I was already married before it seemed likely I would inherit, or I should have been besieged, too.”
“The Marquess of Embleton,” Bea said musingly. “Heir to a dukedom.”
“Quite so, but if you fancy becoming a duchess, Miss Franklyn, I had better warn you that Embleton is not much in the petticoat line.”
“He looks quite bewildered by the attention,” Bea said.
