‘Oh, it will be full, I can assure you.’ Susan’s self-confidence was boundless, and Sophy realised that nothing she could say would dent it. Then Susan added the comment that cut. ‘You just watch, and listen to the mamas as they wish their daughters were as fortunate.’
‘Thank you, I might even manage a dance myself, you know.’
‘Oh yes, … of course,’ faltered Susan, under a rather steely stare. ‘I … I shall take two pairs of the stockings, though. Has Harriet decided about her ribands yet?’
Harriet had not, and eventually took a length of both colours. Having paid for their purchases, they were placed in the basket held by the maidservant, but Susan, to Sophy’s surprise, chose to carry the wrapped parcel of stockings herself. Had she known her cousin rather better, she would have been suspicious.
They retraced their steps, lingering over shop windows, and making hypothetical purchases which would, in reality, have been wildly profligate. They were gazing into the window of a jewellers near the corner of Bruton Street, and Harriet was waxing lyrical over a necklet of graduated topaz stones.
Susan, catching sight in the window reflection of a personable gentleman passing behind them, contrived to let her package of stockings slip to the ground, and exclaimed in feigned surprise.
The gentleman bent to pick up the package which had slipped so artlessly from Miss Tyneham’s grasp, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. Sophy, herself under no illusions as to what had happened, had the distinct impression that he also knew exactly what Susan had done.
‘Your parcel, ma’am.’ He handed back the package, dangling it by the string from one long, gloved finger. He was dressed elegantly, without ostentation, and was, of course, good-looking, with hair as dark as Susan’s own. She would never have dropped the packet had he been middle-aged and corpulent.
‘Oh, sir, how kind. So silly of me to let it slip through my fingers,’ Susan answered breathily, and presented a small kid-encased hand.
The gentleman took the bait, as she had hoped, and before handing over the parcel took the hand in a reverent grasp and bent low over it. Susan threw her cousins a look of triumph. Sophy squirmed inwardly, and as the gentleman stood straight again, caught the understanding gleam in his eye. Susan might think herself clever, but the stranger knew the game she was playing, and was responding in kind. Sophy was not sure whether this sprang from understanding, for Susan was patently inexperienced, or roguishness.
‘I … I do not know whom to thank, sir,’ ventured Susan, peeping coyly at him from under her long lashes.
‘No, you do not, do you? How vexatious. However, I am sure that we will be introduced in a more proper setting.’ The smile held a trace of the lupine, and his eyes danced.
Susan was both entranced and antagonised simultaneously, and could think of no instant response.
‘Your servant, ladies.’ The gentleman bowed, primarily to Sophy, since she was clearly the most senior, and turned away, striding purposefully towards Piccadilly.
‘Well, how you had the sheer effrontery to do that, Susan, I do not know,’ Sophy reprimanded her cousin.
‘Pho! It was just a little tease. A little fun for both parties, if you prefer. Why should I be ashamed?’
‘You had as well tied your garter in public.’ Sophy could barely contain her anger.
‘Now that, Cousin Sophy, I have never yet done, but it is a temptation, I assure you. I think I might have purchased something suitable for garters in Grafton House.’ Susan mocked her cousin. She felt so very pleased with herself. After all, she had attracted the attention of a very smart-looking gentleman, and she had absolutely no doubt that when he did espy her at a party, he would ensure an introduction.
‘Susan, you cannot even suggest such a thing,’ whispered Harriet, quite shocked.
‘Buying garters?’ Susan’s lips twitched.
‘No. I mean … you know … tying them in public.’ Harriet’s whisper dropped even further, and she blushed scarlet.
‘I just did. Though I admit if one really did have recourse to anything quite as obvious, then one would be unworthy of one’s femininity.’
‘Why?’ Harriet did not understand.
‘Because men are simpletons, that is why. To catch them that way is just too easy. What skill has a fisherman, if the fish leap into his net as he stands there?’
‘You really do not have a very good opinion of the male of the species, do you, Susan?’ Sophy tried to think charitably. Surely her cousin had had little cause to do so.
‘I have certainly never met one yet worthy of shedding a tear over. They are selfish, and set themselves up as so clever and powerful, but if you are clever, then it is you who have the power. My mama was weak. She let my papa tread upon her, keep her cooped up at Tyneham, while he did as he pleased. It shall not be so with me. I shall have men at my feet, and it is I who shall do the treading.’
There was a fierce defiance in her tone, and Sophy, for all that her cousin’s behaviour was appalling, could understand how, with such an example before her, and no sound guidance, Susan might have decided upon her potentially ruinous course.
‘The fault I have with your view, cousin,’ she responded, not unkindly, ‘is that you have met so very few gentlemen in your life that you might find yourself “treading upon” the worthy as well as the unworthy among the gender. Or are you saying that in falling at your feet they will show themselves unworthy? That does not reflect very well upon you, you know.’
Susan had no immediate answer to this.
‘But you do want to be married, surely?’ Harriet found her cousin inexplicable.
