Page 16 of The Gentlewoman Author

“Ah. And what brings you to Bath?”

“My aunt. She thinks it will be good for me to see more of the world.”

To see the world before she settled into marriage? This guessing was ridiculous. He would simply ask her name.

“Louisa, are you speaking of me?” Mrs. Allen asked.

Louisa! She was his intended but gave no indication of knowing their connection. On the contrary, when Mrs. Eliot had garnered partners for her at the assembly rooms, she spoke of Miss Thorpe as one searching for a husband. In this case, his announcing their engagement would certainly not be welcome. She probably sought a match of her own to avoid her father’s arrangement—or had not been told of his intention. It put him in the difficult position of knowing their proposed relationship when she did not. Did honesty compel him to tell her? Becoming acquainted before she knew may benefit them both, decreasing discomfiture on both sides.

“I am just explaining that you brought me to Bath,” Louisa said.

Mr. Bateman tapped Mrs. Allen’s shoulder. She turned to him with a biting smile, which did nothing to deter Mr. Bateman from commandeering her conversation.

“And what will you do after your time here?” He wanted her to give something away. Did she know who he was? Did she know her father had promised her away to a stranger?

“I will follow the tradition of all proper females and marry.” On the word marry, she stabbed her knife into a bloody piece of beef. She seemed ignorant of their engagement.

After dinner, the women retreated to the drawing room, leaving the men to their port. Mr. Bateman stretched his legs and began pacing the room, with no apparent desire to converse with the other two gentlemen.

“What do you think of Miss Thorpe?” Daniel asked Mr. Savage.

“She is pretty enough, though a little melancholy.”

Daniel had yet not told his friend that his father intended for him to marry her. “Do you have designs on her?”

He snorted. “I am in no position to marry.”

This surprised Daniel. Tobias inherited his estate only a few years ago. Marriage should be his next step, but Savage was a bit of a rake.

“But if a young lady catches your fancy, you may change your mind?” Daniel asked.

A sneeze erupted from the quarter of Mr. Bateman, a sound which may have signaled the beginning of battle. Both Daniel and Mr. Savage turned toward the man, who hastily pulled out his handkerchief but did not wait to finish his nasal cleanse before addressing the other two men.

“I am partial to Mrs. Allen. She is a suitable woman, proper and lovely, soft, malleable.” He then blew his nose so profoundly that it rivaled the sneeze. “I may propose in a day or two, once I am certain of my feelings.” He mopped his nose.

Daniel could not help himself. “How will you gauge her regard for you?”

Mr. Bateman waved his soiled handkerchief in the air as if brushing away the concern. “She is likely desperate for the guidance of a husband and will take little time in forming an attachment to me. At her age, and having been a widow for so long, she will be thrilled for any proposal. To receive compliments from a man such as myself? Well, I hardly need wait.”

Mr. Savage scratched his chin, moving his hand over his mouth to disguise his amusement.

“A widow for how long?”

“Decades. According to Mrs. Eliot, she was married and widowed before she turned twenty.”

“But Mrs. Allen seems very comfortable in her situation. She is quite independent and, if I understand correctly, has a profitable estate in Ireland.” Mrs. Eliot had spread the private details of Mrs. Allen’s life to all unmarried gentlemen last evening.

“Quite. Only think how much value I will add when it’s under my stewardship. Having been run by a woman, there are bound to be a multitude of improvements awaiting my hand.”

Disgusting. Why did Mrs. Eliot press him on her friend?

When they joined the ladies, Daniel paused in the doorway. Mr. Bateman hesitated not at all to take a seat beside Mrs. Allen. The impulse to cast Bateman out of the house had him balling his fists. Why did he care so much for Mrs. Allen’s comfort? One dance did not make him her protector. Mr. Bateman’s pompous assumption that Mrs. Allen wanted his company rankled, and Daniel refused to watch the poor woman endure the attentions of so insufferable a man. In a space half-wide enough to fit him, he wiggled between them so that Mr. Bateman drooped off the edge of his seat. He used his cane to keep himself from slipping to the floor. Mrs. Eliot, seated across from their trio, grinned and clasped her hands under her chin as if watching a delightful scene in a play. As if she were directing it.

Under Mrs. Eliot’s feline scrutiny, he became aware of his ludicrous behavior. He had just squeezed himself between two people. Beyond the fact that no woman deserved to be accosted by the likes of Mr. Bateman, the motive for his behavior remained murky.

Across the room, Miss Thorpe brightened under Mr. Savage’s attentiveness. She spoke with animation, and Daniel’s gratitude for his friend strengthened. To atone for his neglect, he would take her up in his landau tomorrow, where they may become acquainted.

The guests rearranged themselves when tea and coffee were served, and Daniel found an opportunity to make the invitation. Louisa glanced to her aunt, who smiled in approval.

“You shall come too, Aunt. Surely it is not fitting for me to go alone.” It would perfectly correct for Daniel and Miss Thorpe to go together so long as his groom attended, but if she felt uncomfortable, Daniel would not dissuade Mrs. Allen from chaperoning.

Mrs. Allen pursed her lips before speaking. “I will accompany you, if you wish.” To Daniel she said, “Is there room for three?”

He assured her there was, and they made plans to meet the following day at half past five. He could not tell if he looked forward to learning more about Miss Thorpe or her aunt, but made the decision not to tell them of their connection. It could only complicate matters, particularly should Miss Thorpe develop feelings for someone else.

The evening continued with the usual entertainments. Daniel offered to turn the pages for Miss Thorpe, who played the pianoforte while the others gathered to play whist. Mr. Bateman fixated upon Mrs. Allen. From across the room, Daniel riled against his powerlessness to intervene when the presumptuous man inclined himself toward his prey to touch her forearm or whisper in her ear. Mrs. Allen squirmed, bent away from him, gently swept his hand off hers, and gave every indication that she did not enjoy the attention. Unlike many ladies, there was no tittering at his demonstrations. She seemed well-equipped to handle herself.

Daniel turned a page for Miss Thorpe, admiring her attractive, turned-up nose. She was his objective. He focused on her.

A widow must endeavor to embalm her husband’s memory, to keep it from perishing. Thus, she may converse with the dead, represent him to her own thoughts, that his life may still be repeated to her.

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