The addition of Lord Gresham seemed to only increase her appetite. She had been placed next to the duke, who was on Lady Heathway’s right. That left Lord Gresham across the table, seated next to the duchess.
She really wished he would have gone home. She had decided, firmly, to go forward with practicality at the forefront of her mind. It might be difficult to pledge herself to someone she did not love. She really did not appreciate Lord Gresham making it even more difficult. He must just go away and allow her to get on with it!
“Now, Penelope,” the duchess said, “what do you do for Lady Tredwell’s masque? I, myself, will go as Minerva. There is something noble in her, I always thought.”
Grace saw a flicker of irritation cross Lady Heathway’s expression. It seemed it was perfectly fine for her furniture placement to be noble, but that was where it ended.
“I have chosen Boudicca,” Lady Heathway said. “I feel it will send the right message.”
“Ah, the lady warrior,” the duke said.
“Just so.”
“And what does Miss Yardley come as?” the duchess asked.
“That is to be kept a surprise, even from you, Theodosia. But rest assured, it will reflect well on Grace, and our society at large.”
The duchess nodded. “I am intrigued, Penelope. I look eagerly forward to see what you have designed. Of course, I will at some point be taking my own girl to this sort of thing and I probably ought to be thinking of ideas now.”
“I highly advise it,” Lady Heathway said. “One cannot plan too much. Preparation is the key to everything and cannot be done too thoroughly.”
“Though I wonder,” Lord Gresham said, “is Lady Tredwell’s masque really suitable to a young lady just out?”
Grace nearly dropped her fork. What now? Was this an attempt to convince Lady Heathway to leave her at home? Though she nearlydroppedher fork, she had a great wish to use it as a trident and hurl it across the table.
“Goodness, Gresham,” the duchess said laughing, “you are becoming rather a stickler in your old age. One might think you’ve been spending too much time with Bertridge.”
Lord Heathway and the duke both laughed heartily over the idea, as Lord Bertridge was very well-liked, but hewasa terrible stickler. He could at times make his aunt, Lady Easton, seem positively carefree, so strict were his ideas of what was right.
Though the two older gentlemen laughed, Lord Gresham did not seem as amused.
“I would not say there is anything of the stickler in the opinion,” he said. “I only wonder if anybody had considered that there will be so many there who are disguised as to their real identity. So many men in disguise.”
“My dear nephew, if you are afraid that some lothario will carry Grace off, put those fears aside. The lady warrior Boudicca will be by her side.”
Lord Gresham did not seem to have an answer to Boudicca and only stabbed at his chicken.
Much to Grace’s relief, the conversation turned and the matter appeared to be settled. She was rather admiring of Lady Heathway, and not for the first time. It seemed no matter what sort of machinations Lord Gresham attempted to launch to hinder her progress, Lady Heathway was there to bar the door against them.
*
George stormed downthe road. He had not brought his horse, as his aunt lived so nearby. He had not even been sure he would go in until he was positively at her door. He was perfectly aware that it was his aunt’s and uncle’s evening to play cards with the duke and duchess. How could he not be? They’d had the same appointment once a fortnight during the season for above ten years.
He’d assumed Miss Yardley would remain in with them, and probably be left to read or sew or play some music.
That was about all he’d got right on this blasted night.
First, he was informed that she wished to marry immediately.
Immediately, she said. And she would be delighted to accept anybody who was not the butler. Vance included!
What happened to the idea of a second season? What happened to her taking her time?
And then, to accuse him of meddling? What had he really done but provide her with some hints that would be to her benefit? And perhaps mention to certain individuals that she had hurt her ankle…
Well, once he had been apprised of her wish to throw herself at the nearest gentleman, then of course he’d had to take steps.
He really thought that once he pointed out the dangers of the masque, because of all the men in masks, his aunt would perceive the threat instantly. But no! They’d all laughed at him and compared him to Bertridge. They’d called him a stickler.
