Chapter Twelve
Generally, Lavinia hated the part of the evening where the gentlemen and ladies separated. The ladies always retreated to a parlour or the drawing room, to talk genteelly and occupy themselves, while the gentlemen indulged their desire for brandy and smoked cigars.
It wasn’t that Lavinia disliked the company of other ladies in the slightest. It was just that many of theotherladies spent the time eyeing their rivals and waiting in scarcely veiled impatience for the gentlemen to return. More than once, Lavinia had seen a pair of young women fighting fiercely for the attention of some weak-chinned lord, only to put up a pretence of friendship during the interlude between dinner and the return of the gentlemen.
It was sickening, frankly.
This time, she had another concern. Gillian.
Gillian was visibly tired, and had been all day, and now she was fighting back yawn after yawn. A pair of ladies stood with her near the mantelpiece, side by side, talking about something or other. It meant that Gillian could not sit without breaking off the conversation, and of course she would rather collapse than be impolite. The heat of the fire had to be burning into her, and Lavinia saw a flush spreading over her sister’s neck and collar.
The ladies only glanced briefly at her and continued their rattling on about whatever it was they were discussing. Lavinia had been introduced to the two women, of course, and had an idea that they were cousins, although she could not remember their names. They hadn’t seemed particularly pleasant to her, and doubtless saw Gillian as a staunch rival.
It's no good. I must intervene. I must dosomething.
Just as the idea was taking root in Lavinia’s head, and she was looking about for inspiration, Katherine came striding back into the room. When had she left?
She glanced around the room, and immediately her gaze came to rest on Gillian.
“Goodness, Miss Gillian, you are standing far too close to that fire! You’ll faint from the heat! Miss Susan, Miss Anne, do you not see that the poor girl is flushed all over?”
Things happened quickly after that. Katherine escorted Gillian to a seat, while Miss Susan and Miss Anne protested innocence and claimed thattheywere not affected by the heat. Gillian was soon sitting on a long sofa, with Lady Abigail and Lady Eleanor on one side, and Katherine on the other. Lavinia watched as a normal colour returned to her sister’s cheeks, and she relaxed in a calm and soothing conversation.
Those Willenshires are remarkably nice people,Lavinia thought, sinking back into her seat in relief.Nicer than I would have expected.
Her reprieve did not last. No sooner had Lavinia begun to relax again then she spotted none other than Miss Bainbridge, heading her way with an icy smile on her face.
Oh, good heavens. What have I done to deserve this?
“Do you mind if I sit by you, Miss Brookford?” Miss Bainbridge asked sweetly, taking a seat. “May I call you Lavinia?”
“Of course.”
Miss Bainbridge did not suggest that Lavinia should call her Victoria. Lavinia thought about asking and decided against it.
The sofa was a two-seater, and the half not occupied by Lavinia was occupied by a large, fluffy white cat, curled up into a ball. Miss Bainbridge made an impatient gesture, and the cat leapt down with a growl of annoyance. She took its place, picking at her cuffs and readjusting her skirts.
Lavinia stayed silent. Something had undoubtedly driven the woman over here, and she would wait patiently to hear it.
“The gentlemen are taking their time to join us, are they not?” Miss Bainbridge said, at last.
Lavinia smiled weakly. “I hadn’t noticed. I quite enjoy it when it’s just us women, you know.”
“Oh, really? I quite despise the company of women. They never have anything interesting to say.”
“They? Don’t you meanwe? You’re a woman too, Miss Bainbridge.”
Miss Bainbridge only smiled absently. “In body only, I think you’ll find.”
Lavinia considered asking what on earth that was supposed to mean, but once again decided against speaking.
I’m getting quite shrewd these days,she thought, allowing herself a small smile.Keeping my mouth shut at opportune moments.
“His Grace, the Duke, is a remarkably kind man, don’t you think?” Miss Bainbridge said at last, her gaze still fixed on a distant point across the room.
Lavinia hadn’t been expecting this and found herself somewhat thrown by the comment.
“Hm? Yes, I suppose so.”
