Page 91 of Courting the Country Miss

“Let’s hope the younger one fares better than the elder, eh? What is this—your fourth Season, dear?” The dowager gave a patronizing smile to Leticia.

“Third,” Leticia said through clenched teeth. She refused to volunteer that her first Season had been years ago. Until Richard got married, another season had never been deemed necessary since her future seemed certain.

Aunt Alice drew a breath, but before she could give the dowager the scathing set-down she deserved, Lord Petre broke in. “Ah, yes, Miss Wentworth. Hardly noticed you. I hope you gave up on that foolish rot about a school for the poor.”

“Certainly not.” Leticia lifted her chin. “It is progressing in a satisfactory manner.”

“No good will come of it, mark my words.”

“I hardly think it is any concern of yours,” she shot back.

In a dismissive manner, Petre turned away and fixed his gaze on Lord Bradbury. “Bradbury, you’d do well to put a stop to such foolishness before you consider giving that girl another moment of your time.”

Bradbury went still. “On the contrary. I applaud the efforts she and Lady Averston have expended for the school and I have given them my full support.”

Lord Petre frowned. “Short-sighted, lad. Don’t lose your head over a female or you’ll grow to rue the day. Put your foot down from the start and she won’t give you any trouble.” He nodded once to punctuate his point.

If Leticia had a drink in her hand, she would have been tempted to throw it in Lord Petre’s face. His poor wife!

Bradbury’s hands fisted but his expression remained polite. “You are entitled to your opinion, Petre, but do not presume to counsel me.”

“That’s no way to speak to your elders.”

“Good evening.” Bradbury gestured to the doorway in a clear invitation to leave. The highest-ranking person in the box and unconcerned about offending an elder, Bradbury turned his back on Petre.

Sputtering, the unwelcome guests left.

Bradbury let out his breath as if he’d been holding it. “I hope you don’t think me ill-mannered for the way I dismissed them, but I might have been tempted to say or do something drastic to that boorish oaf if he and his mother had remained another moment.”

“I think you handled it quite well,” Aunt Alice said. “They deserved no better. If this had been my box, I would have cut them dead.”

Leticia nodded. “Indeed.”

Isabella, who’d been quiet throughout the entire exchange stood. “I believe I shall go for some refreshment.”

Aunt Alice stood. “Excellent idea. I could use some lemonade.” A chorus of agreements followed.

During their descent on the grand staircase to the floor below their box, Leticia tried not to gawk at the beauty of the grand saloon and its sumptuous décor. Lamps hanging from the ceiling provided adequate light and cast a warm glow over the wide array of visitors of all classes who flirted, laughed, and sized up one another.

Inside the retiring room decorated with crimson paper and carpeting, Leticia checked her reflection to be sure nothing was amiss.

Isabella joined her by the mirror. “Well?” Isabella nudged her. “Isn’t he wonderful? Aren’t you falling madly in love with him?”

“With whom?” Leticia felt along her chignon for loose hairpins.

Isabella laughed as if she found Leticia thick in the head. “Lord Bradbury, you goose.”

Leticia found herself at a loss for a moment. “Well…”

“Come now, Tish, you can tell me. Hurry before someone comes in.”

“He is…a very pleasant gentleman.” She pushed a loose hairpin back into place.

“Pleasant?” Isabella’s mouth twisted into an incredulous moue. “That’s hardly flattering. Aren’t you violently in love with him?”

Leticia let out a weak laugh. “Not violently, no. I may be starting to have…feelings for him. These things take time. I hardly know him.”

“Oh, come now. Mama and Papa fell in love at first sight.”