Page 14 of The Gentlewoman Author

“Not at all. You were the belle of the ball. The men clambered after you, as if you were a rich young heiress.”

Mary’s heart fluttered. “What did you tell them?” She wanted to imagine what Mr. Fletcher might think of whatever Agnes had told him.

With high brows and heavily lidded eyes, Agnes lifted a shoulder before taking an enormous bite of porridge and widening her eyes.

Mary said, “Bringing me partners was unnecessary. Our concern is Louisa.”

Louisa appeared in the doorway. “What are you saying about me, Aunt?”

“Only that all the men want to know you.”

“From what I saw, they were more interested in you.”

Mary looked from Louisa’s red-rimmed eyes to her pale face and wondered if the girl had been crying. Surely, she was not jealous of Mary’s dancing.

“Louisa, I spoke of you to every gentleman I thought worthy of you. There were only two or three, for I am very discerning, but I have special hopes for Mr. Fletcher.” Her stomach twisted, but she pressed on. “We must invite him to dinner.”

“Oh, yes. I danced with him as well. He’s ancient. Could be my father.” She slathered honey on her bread.

“He is not so old. And besides, the younger gentlemen are foppish and careless these days. Really, Louisa, they are not to compare with Mr. Fletcher. He is⁠—”

“I already did,” Agnes interrupted. “Invite him to dinner. He is coming tonight with his friend, Mr. Savage. But I thought Fletcher more suited for someone else.” She took another bite, her focus not slipping from Mary.

Agnes, who noticed everything, must have seen Mary’s absurd response to Mr. Fletcher. She did not know the man. They had barely spoken. He might be a highwayman. No, not a highwayman. They were mysterious and alluring. Mr. Fletcher was probably boring and steady.

He would be at dinner that very night. Panic gripped her lungs.

“Aunt, are you choking?” Louisa pounded her on the back.

“No, no. Please. I am well. When you’re finished eating, let’s get some air.”

Louisa nodded and piled her plate with food. At least she had an appetite. Her despondence was surely an effect of travel and the stimulation of last night’s dance.

Her look, her speech, her whole behavior should own an humble distrust of herself. There is scarce anything more indecent than to see a young maid too forward and confident in her talk.

The Whole Duty of a Woman, An Infallible Guide to the Fairer Sex, 1737