Louisa nodded. “It’s all right. But surely you must agree the soprano was spectacular.”
“She wasverygood.” Fletcher had no idea if she was, but Louisa seemed satisfied with her answer.
“Do you have any engagements this weekend?” she asked.
“I suppose like most of thetonI will be attending the funeral for the Marchioness of Beresford.”
“Oh, I nearly forgot. How dreadful.”
“Did you know her?”
“No. Well, we may have met in passing, but I cannot recall ever having a conversation with her. How devastating for Beresford, though. He has been a friend to you, no?”
“In a way. More a friend of Lord Waring’s. But I promised I’d attend.”
Louisa shook her head. “What a dreadful story. She was so young. Beresford must be heartbroken.”
“I have not spoken to him myself, but Waring has said he is devastated.”
Louisa gazed out the window. “Marriage is…it feels fraught.”
It definitely did. But Fletcher said, “I wouldn’t know.”
“I understand, but…you see so many different kinds of marriages. My parents weren’t a love match, but they get on well.”
“Same for my parents. Or they did until my father passed.”
“Yes. And then you have the Swynfords and the Caernarfons, who all seem so happy.”
“Yes. They are blessed in their unions. Swynford’s was a love match. But Caernarfon barely knew Lady Grace when they married.”
“But they’ve grown close. I suppose that is the kind of marriage I’m after.”
“And do you believe you will find that with Rotherfeld.”
“I suppose I can’t know for certain, but I do hope so. At least, I should like to avoid the fate of my friend Eleanor. She and her husband barely tolerate each other. And poor Lady Beresford. Oh, my heart aches for that family. Her son growing up without a mother!”
“I know.” Fletcher agreed the situation was tragic and hoped not to dwell on it. The funeral would be bad enough.
“Anyway. I don’t know what kind of marriage I am to have, and I suppose that bothers me. But you cannot offer much insight.”
“I have spoken to Rotherfeld several times since your engagement. He seems agreeable.” That was a nice way to put it.
“Agreeable? Is that the best you can say of him?”
Truthfully, Fletcher would be perfectly happy to never occupy the same space as Rotherfeld ever again, but he said, “Ihad hoped we could be friends, but we do not appear to have much in common. But I shall keep trying for your sake.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. I should like it if the two of you were friends.”
Fletcher began to doubt that was possible, but if pressed, he wasn’t certain he knew the exact reason why. He found Rotherfeld dull, yes, but there were several people of his acquaintance who were not that interesting. Surely he could figure out a way to connect with the man. For Louisa’s sake, if nothing else.
He took a deep breath, anxious to be home, but not wanting to show his irritation to Louisa.
“I suppose I was rather forward on the way to the opera,” Louisa said. “It’s just…no one ever tells women anything. I’ve had a few conversations with my mother about what to expect once I am married, but, aside from you, men are generally a mystery to me.”
“Men are just…humans.”
“Yes, but the way they are raised is different from women. You got to go away to school. You can go wherever you want without a chaperone.”
