“Yousupposeso? Why, you’ve been the recipient of his kindness since you arrived!”
Lavinia blinked, beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Do you mean his hospitality?”
Miss Bainbridge chuckled. “Oh, you are sweet. Gentlemen like the duke are rather practised in seeking out… oh, how shall I say this?... the mostunfortunatein their society. You know, older widows, frumpy spinsters, gawky debutantes who haven’t a clue how to act or what to say. The sort of woman thatnobodywould expect to marry a duke, which means that his reputation is quite safe. He’ll be kind to her, make sure she is comfortable, make sure nobody is unpleasant to her, and so on. Like a charity endeavour, you know. People will follow a duke’s lead, after all.”
There was an unpleasant little silence between them.
“Forgive me,” Lavinia said at last, “but I really don’t understand what you are trying to say, Miss Bainbridge.”
Miss Bainbridge gave a forced titter of laughter. “You are so sweet, Lavinia. Let me be plain, because I don’t wish for you to embarrass yourself more than you have already done. Let me assure you that his Grace is not pursuing you for matrimonial reasons.”
Colour rushed into Lavinia’s face. “Well, I didn’t think that he was.”
“It’s just that you are… oh, how shall I say it? You are pursuing him. It’s a little unbecoming. He is trying to be kind, trying to put you at your ease, and… well, it’s clear that you have misinterpreted his kindness. I am only telling you this becausesomebodymust, my dear. With the greatest respect to dear Lady Brennon, it seems that she is entirely concentrating on pushing poor Miss Gillian and you towards the single gentlemen of our party. She’s made a determined set, and people are beginning to notice. Oh, now I’ve upset you.”
With a mournful expression that barely concealed a triumphant grin, Miss Bainbridge reached out and laid her hand on Lavinia’s. The sharp edge of one of her nails dug sharply into Lavinia’s knuckles. She couldn’t tell whether it was deliberate or simply an accident.
“My mother is not pushing me towards anyone,” Lavinia said at last. She couldn’t quite believe what Miss Bainbridge had said.
Is it true? Is this some sort of high-Society politeness that I am not receiving properly? I certainly never imagined he could feel anything for me. Iama spinster, and heisa duke, and the most eligible man of the Season.
“Mm-hm,” Miss Bainbridge said, smiling disbelievingly. “I just would hate for you to start thinking of him with hope, you know. When there is none. None at all, I’m afraid. The duke and I have an understanding, and a betrothal announcement is forthcoming.”
Lavinia only smiled tightly and murmured something congratulatory. It did not deceive Miss Bainbridge, of course, but it concerned merely the appearance of matters.
Why should it matter what I think of him, in the privacy of my own head?
Miss Bainbridge lifted an eyebrow when the moments dragged on.
“Don’t you want to thank me, Lavinia?” she said, voice gentle.
“Thank you for telling me, Miss Bainbridge,” Lavinia managed, hating herself even as the words exited her mouth.
“You are most welcome, my dear, most welcome. As I said, I should hate to see you embarrass yourself more than you have already.”
“Do retract your claws, you disagreeable little creature, or I shall be compelled to send you sprawling across the chamber.”
There was an icy moment of silence at Lady Brennon’s voice. Both women twisted to look up at the woman, who was standing directly behind the chair, hands on her hips.
“Ibegyour pardon?” Miss Bainbridge managed. Her voice was clipped and icy.
Lady Brennon smiled sweetly. “I was speaking to the cat, my dear.”
All three of them glanced at the recently dislodged white cat, who was sitting a little way away, its claws notably not out.
“I see,” Miss Bainbridge said, sounding irritated.
“Would you mind giving up your seat to an old woman, Miss Bainbridge? I would love to sit by my daughter, you know.”
Miss Bainbridge smiled, tight-lipped, and rose without another word. She sailed off, never once glancing back, and Lady Brennon dropped into the seat beside Lavinia.
The cat came running up, leaping on Lady Brennon’s lap. It curled up at once, purring hard, and she began to absently stroke it.
“You weren’t talking about the cat, were you, Mama?” Lavinia said, after a pause.
“Of course not. I would never harm a cat.”
Lavinia bit back a smile. “You don’t want to make an enemy of Miss Bainbridge.”
