“You must keep Lord Charles engaged as I get to know Lord Brixton.”
Henrietta had to admit that job didn’t sound awful, because she already found Lord Charles to be rather interesting. But she couldn’t very well let her sister discover that.
“Besides,” Marjorie continued, “Lord Charles is rather handsome.”
Henrietta gave a half-shrug. “I’m afraid I haven’t noticed.”
Marjorie gave her a disbelieving look. “Then I must wonder if your eyesight is failing.”
“If you must know, I don’t find himunattractive,” she reluctantly admitted.
“I assumed as much.”
“What of you?” Henrietta questioned. “Do you find Lord Brixton handsome?”
“I do,” Marjorie admitted, “but I have yet to decide if I shall show him favor.”
“Why is that?”
Marjorie pressed her lips together, then said, “I know that Mother and Father are quite eager for me to make a match this Season.”
“I would give them little heed.”
“I am not sure if that is possible,” Marjorie remarked. “Father constantly reminds me that I am on my fourth Season and he tires of paying for my gowns.”
“Father always complains when it comes to the cost of our clothing and accessories.”
Marjorie gave her a weak smile. “You may also think me vain, but I want a title.”
“You do?”
“I wouldn’t mind becoming a viscountess, but I was hoping to marry an earl.”
Henrietta lifted her brow. “I hadn’t realized you aspired for a title.”
“It is not something that I would just admit to anyone,” Marjorie confessed. “I just want to make an advantageous marriage for myself.”
“What about love?”
Marjorie grew solemn. “Love is a fickle thing,” she said, softly. “I’m afraid it isn’t attainable to everyone.”
“Why not at least try for it?” Henrietta pressed.
“Because I do not have time to chase the impossible,” Marjorie stated. “Once my beauty fades, I have little else to entice the gentlemen.”
“That is not true.”
Marjorie tucked a piece of blonde hair behind her ear. “You have always been the clever one,” she said. “Miss Skeffington was constantly chiding me for not being as smart as you.”
“Well, I think we both know that she wasn’t the best governess,” Henrietta remarked. “The day she quit was a glorious one.”
“That is only because you refused to speak to her in any language beside Hog Latin.”
Henrietta giggled. “When Uncle Abraham returned from his trip to the colonies and told me about how the children were speaking this ‘strange language’, I couldn’t help but try it out,” she explained. “It was hardly my fault that Miss Skeffington grew offended by me using it.”
“You spoke it for three weeks straight,” Marjorie reminded her.
“And yet, for as smart as Miss Skeffington claimed to be, she was unable to pick it up,” Henrietta said.
