As she made her way to the tea cart and thought over their titles, Lucinda wondered if this was her father’s way of deciding that she must marry a future duke, marquess or earl? Not that it mattered, as a title had nothing to do with character. As these ten had yet to inherit and prove themselves by caring for an estate, servants and tenants, how could she possibly decide if any of them would do? All they knew how to do now was squander what was easily provided.
“Do you not have servants to see to tea?” Lord Gambier asked.
“We cannot spare one at the moment,” Lucinda answered and went about preparing cups of tea for each of her guests. It was something she truly did not mind doing. And, even if she did, there was little choice.
“Can’t spare a servant?” Lord Crewe asked in alarm.
“I’m afraid that I do have rather distressing news,” her grandmother offered, then went on to explain the situation.
“It simply should not have been allowed,” Lord Alvanley insisted. “They knew you were to have guests.”
Lucinda gaped at him. “It was Boxing Day and we’ve always given the servants leave to attend the Servants’ Assembly. It’s been a tradition in Laswell since before my birth.”
“Servants attending an assembly, as if they were better than their station,” Lord Gambier murmured with disgust.
“Perhaps in the future you might consider the ramifications, and this year might serve as a lesson,” Lord Banbury condescended to her. “I’d not allow such a practice on my estate.”
“I quite agree,” Lord Eardly added. “One must have servants.”
“Good Lord, it’s not as if anyone is asking you to prepare your own meal,” Lord Irvine rebuked. “Thatwould be a disaster. At least it would be if I were tasked with the cooking.” Humor twinkled in his blue eyes.
At least he was being reasonable.
“Everything is being done to see to your comfort and care while you are guests at Forester Hall,” Lucinda assured them.
“Will His Grace be joining us for tea?” Lord Howth inquired.
They probably hoped to gain his permission without the effort of courting her.
“Given the circumstances, he’s managing the situation,” Lucinda answered.
“Yes, of course,” a few murmured.
“As for the rest of my family, they are currently not in residence.”
Disappointment flashed across Lord Ferrard’s features, and for the first time since she entered the parlor, Lucinda was intrigued.
“My son doesn’t intend to be present any more than necessary,” Grandmother announced.
“Why is that?” Lord Kilmuir asked.
“You are not here for him, buther.” Grandmother raised her cane and pointed it at Lucinda, much to her embarrassment. “The invitation was clear, the one each of you accepted. You’re not here to court His Grace.”
“Yes, of course,” Lord Dalhousie pulled at his cravat.
“The four of us will act as chaperones.”
Grandmother and the sisters Tilson all nodded in unison; their mouths set with determination.
It was Lady Esther who frowned, however. “I daresay that I am unfamiliar with some of these lords. How will we keep them straight?”
A few of the guests were taken aback, and Lucinda assumed that they believedeveryoneshould know who they were.
“Oh, I know,” her grandmother announced. “Simply by letter.”
“Letter?” Lady Priscilla asked.
“As Lucinda pointed out, they are the first eleven letters of the alphabet, and only missing a J. Therefore, they shall be Lord A, Lord B, Lord C, and so on.”
