“I do not understand.”
Reese let out a breath. “Where I come from women have rights. We have the vote and own businesses and property. Women run large corporations. We have a say in whether or not we marry, and if we do, we marry for love.”
“Alovematch?” Ellen gave a bitter laugh. “My brother had a love match, and it nearly destroyed him.”
“Did they come to hate each other?” Reese asked, curious.
“She died,” Ellen whispered, “giving birth to their little son. He also died.”
“I’m sorry.” For the first time, Reese felt a little compassion for this older brother who seemed to dominate Ellen’s life. He might not be the caring brother that Darcy had been to Georgianna, but maybe he came across as hard because he was still grieving. It couldn’t have been less than a year, or Ellen would still be in mourning and not attending a ball. “How long ago did it happen?”
“Eleven years ago.”
Reese blinked. “Such a long time ago. I’m surprised he hasn’t remarried. Does he have other children? Since he’s an Earl, doesn’t he need an heir?”
“He has no other children. He and Cecily were married barely a year. He went a little wild after he lost them. I was still young myself, but my aunt said she was worried about him because of the risks he would take.”
“Like doing dangerous sports?” Reese found herself intrigued about this man.
“No. He was already a Corinthian, but he began to do . . . inappropriate things.” Ellen looked down at her dance card again. “He also got into the petticoat line, though I am not supposed to know about that.”
“I’llbetyou’re not supposed to know he has mistresses.” Reese gave an unladylike snort.
“You must think me a gabster,” Ellen said with wide eyes. “I cannot think what caused me to run on like that. Every feeling must be offended.”
“Offended?Me? No.” Reese chuckled as she stood. “But don’t worry about me passing it on. It’s not my secret to share. I just hate that they treat you like a mushroom.”
“A mushroom?” Ellen frowned, confused.
“They feed you garbage and keep you in the dark.”
“What an odd expression.”
“It was a favorite one of my grandfather’s, so I guess it may sound a bit off,” Reese said, “but it’s true. They keep women uninformed. How do they expect a woman to make an educated decision by keeping them ignorant?” Reese went for sarcasm. “Oh, that’sright. Theydon’tlet women make decisions. Themenmake them for you and leave you to live with the consequences.”
“I like you, Miss Hamilton.” Ellen stood. “I find you so refreshing.”
“Call me Reese. But thank you. I know some people don’t like my frankness. Here, let me retie your bow.” She had the girl turn around. “Don’t mention our conversation to Jem.”
“Jem?”
“Mr. Taylor. His name is Jamison.” Reese turned her around again and checked the ribbon was straight in front. “He doesn’t like it, so he went with the nickname. It was kind of a passive-aggressive way to tell his parents they gave him a bad name.”
“You use words I do not understand,” Ellen said.
“Sorry about that,” Reese said. “I turn into—what was it you called it? Haha, a gabster. If I had been Jem, I’d have just told them not to call me Jamison.”
“And would they have listened to you?”
“My height can be intimidating.” Reese spun around. “Is my dress straight?”
“You look lovely.” Ellen opened her card again. “I must return for the next set.”
“My card’s empty,” Reese said. “I’ll watch.”
“Oh, no. You must dance too.”
“I told you I’m a terrible dancer.”
