The conversation turned to another author, a Thomas Love Peacock.
“I have heard his name, but I am unfamiliar with his work,” Bernice said. “What does he write?”
“The first, I believe was Headlong Hall,” Lady Willoughby answered.
“It is a humorous, satirical piece of fiction,” Eldridge offered. “I have a copy in my library if you would like to read it.”
“‘All philosophers, who find, some favorite system to their mind, in every pin to make it fit, will force all nature to submit’,” Lady Willoughby offered with a smile. “And that is how it begins.”
“Oh, I do believe I will enjoy such a novel.”
“His second novel is Melincourt.” Eldridge grinned. “The story revolves around an orangutan, known as Sir Oran Haut-ton, who is a Member of Parliament and mimics humanity. However, it does discuss controversies such as the inequities of the current system of representation, and how the human condition might be improved.”
“Oh, I do believe I would enjoy that book as well,” Bernice said with excitement.
“It is in my library,” Eldridge informed her.
“Has anyone read The Apostate by Richard Lalor Sheil?” Lord Tylney asked.
Bernice frowned. “I am not certain that is a book in which I would have an interest,” Bernice whispered to Penelope.
“You are the daughter of a vicar, are you not?” he asked.
Her eyes widened, and likely wondered how he would know such a fact about her since to Penelope’s knowledge, they had not been introduced. They simply happened to be taking part in the same conversation at an informal salon.
“Yes,” Bernice offered slowly.
“The story involves a man who is torn between his Catholic faith and his love for a Protestant woman.”
Bernice leaned forward with interest. “What did he do?”
“I shall not spoil it for you,” he returned with a smile. “However, I do promise that it is a compelling piece of literature with themes of religious conflict, love and loyalty.”
“Oh, I do want to read it.”
“Once you do, perhaps we might discuss it further and at length.”
“I would enjoy that….” Bernice’s face flushed in a delicate blush and Penelope could only assume that it was because she did not know his name.”
“Lord Ryan O’Clery, Viscount Tylney of County Galway.”
The corner of her lips twitched to a near smile. “Miss Bernice Simpson.”
“I know,” he answered, eyes darkening. “You are out of wine.” He stood. “Let me fetch you another.”
“Oh…um…that is not necessary but thank you.”
“Tell me, Miss Bernice Simpson, what books have delighted you?”
Her cheeks deepened to a near apple red.
“I am afraid that I am not as well-read as you, or anyone else here.” She gestured to the gathering. “But I do adore a good novel, or even a work of non-fiction. There is so much that can be learned from books and how one’s perception can be altered by additional, unknown knowledge and information.”
The two were now speaking to each other as if there was nobody else in the room. It was quite delightful to watch and perhaps Bernice may have just made her first conquest. As far as Penelope was aware, Viscount Tylney was an honorable and respectable gentleman and she could think of no objection if he wanted to call on Bernice.
Penelope glanced back at Eldridge, certain that she would note approval in his blue eyes.
Instead, he glared.
