On the other hand, it was not Caroline’s purview to approve or disapprove of the Prince’s friends. And then, Mrs. Jordan had been invited by Lord Alvanley and she was the leading comedic actress of the time, so perhaps she was the exception to the rule. And certainly, Lord Easton would take her home in an instant if he thought any of it were at all improper. In any case, she found Mrs. Fitzherbert kind and Mrs. Jordan was a clever lady, surrounded by those who wished to hear her wit.
Lord Alvanley approached and said, “Easton, how do you? Miss Upton, I am delighted that you deigned to attend my little dinner.”
“Deigning is for kings and queens, I think,” Caroline said. “I have only come.”
Lord Alvanley laughed and said, “There, that is just the thing. You have a certain wit about you, Miss Upton. I do always wish my table to be peopled by people with wit.”
“Except for myself,” Lord Easton said.
“Oh, no, Easton, never think you are alone. Mr. Crafton must be your companion in that. But, you are such an agreeable audience that I think you are never left out of these things.”
“I do enjoy a good joke,” Lord Easton said, “though by the time I think of my own I am in bed in the dark.”
“Miss Upton,” Lord Alvanley said, “what we all like about Easton is that he is so invariably pleasant. I have never heard an unkind or snide remark from him—it is a refreshing quality not often encountered. And then, it would be very hard to dislike a fellow who so delights in a good joke—nobody has more fun at the thing than he does.”
Caroline nodded her approbation of the sentiment and thought she was gaining a clearer picture of Lord Easton. He did seem to be so well-liked wherever he went and he was invariably pleasant. And then, when he was delighted, he was exceedingly delighted.
“Not like that nephew of yours, eh, Easton?” Lord Alvanley said, laughing. “He’s always looking askance at something or other. Though, I should not joke about Bertridge, as I have discovered he is no joke in a boxing practice.”
“He does take the sport seriously,” Lord Easton said. He paused then said softly, “The poor fellow takes such a lot seriously.”
There was a hint of sadness in Lord Easton’s tone and Caroline hardly knew what to make of it. She had been holding out hope that Lord Bertridge’s stickish demeanor was just a façade, a cover for polite company. But certainly, if it were so, other gentlemen would know the truth of it. That did not seem to be the case, though. They saw Lord Bertridge just as he portrayed himself.
She found herself exceedingly vexed over the idea. She had really begun to hope that the man she viewed on the boxing green—fists flying with abandon—might be the real man. She startled herself as she realized she had grown fond of that illusory man.
Lord Alvanley’s butler had arrived at the drawing room door and looked meaningfully at his master.
“Ah,” Lord Alvanley said, “we go through. Miss Upton, take my arm.”
Caroline found herselfseated between the Regent, who headed the table, and Mr. Landon, a cousin of Lord Alvanley’s. The method of seating was opaque, but it seemed that there was no hostess, and so Lord Alvanley and the Prince hosted together. She might have thought Mrs. Fitzherbert would do the honor, but that lady seemed well-pleased with her current location.
The party was only fourteen and Caroline found it a pleasant arrangement. Rather than having to keep track of when to turn to one’s opposite partner, much of the conversation was had by the whole table at once.
If Caroline had any doubts about Lord Easton’s value as an audience, those doubts were washed away in a sea of laughter. One person would make a witticism and Lord Easton’s deep laughter would nearly shake the room and he would be heard saying, “Yes, that is all too true, goodness I have never heard it expressed so, oh, I will be laughing myself to sleep tonight!”
He also found a moment to recount Caroline’s retort when it was suggested that Alvanley’s table might be too forward for a young lady and there was much laughter over the idea of crocodiles underfoot and a secret dish dosed with arsenic.
Mrs. Fitzherbert and Mrs. Jordan were both contributors to the general jollity, though Mrs. Jordan, being an actress, was particularly gifted at mimicry. She did a marvelous imitation of a high-placed lady looking about a shop with the utmost disdain and asking for impossible items, such as a shawl of silver metal. Her disappointment after being informed that it was not to be had was positively inspired.
At those moments when conversation was had amongst dinner partners, Caroline found both the Regent and Mr. Landon entertaining in their own ways. The Prince had his own attitude that was very amusing, he seemed not particularly interested in what the world made of him. After all, he said, he could not be dismissed from the job.
Caroline certainly hoped not, as those kings whohadbeen dismissed generally went on their way via violent means.
Mr. Landon was at once entertaining, complimentary, and solicitous. Never had the world seen a dress so charming or such a charming person wearing it and never was her wine glass to be found empty. She felt rather giddy from the wine’s effects and she was certain Mr. Landon was very taken with her.
Her high spirits began to wonder if something would come of it. He was a good-looking fellow, though not anything to compare to Lord Bertridge. What he might not have over Lord Bertridge in looks, he certainly made up for with his conversation. His household was bound to be filled with laughter and gaiety. And after all, she must marry at some point and probably ought not to dismiss a likely gentleman over wishing that Lord Bertridge was other than what he appeared to be.
As she reminded herself, one could not marry an idea or a hope or a phantom. For all that she pretended to Bemmy that it was neither here nor there that she was to marry, she was not such an idiot as to believe it. If she were not to marry, she would end a spinster in her brother’s house, always second fiddle to his baroness, whoever that lady turned out to be.
Mr. Landon was a second son and so was likely bound for the military or the clergy, though he did not say what his plans were. She did not mind that his prospects were not elevated, she only hoped he would choose the military as she had no interest in becoming a clergyman’s wife. She thought he must favor soldiering, as he seemed entirely unsuited for the church.
Of course, she was getting far ahead of herself in her speculations and the champagne with dessert no doubt helped her on her way. She reminded herself that Mr. Landon only seemed taken with her at this moment and many a gentleman was taken by a lady for an evening with nothing to come of it. Further, she did not know him half as well as she would need to if such a serious matter as forevermore were to come up.
She did wonder why Lord Bertridge had singled out Mr. Landon to warn her against. He was such an entertaining fellow and all happy smiles.
Perhaps that was it—Lord Bertridge did not approve of all the happy smiles.
The entertainment ofthe evening had slipped effortlessly into the drawing room, as the men did not bother staying over their port but brought the bottle in with them. Both Mrs. Fitzherbert and Mrs. Jordan took a glass and, as there did not seem to be any tea tray arriving, Caroline did too. She sipped it very slowly, conscious of how much wine she’d had at dinner. She’d often sat with her father in their own dining room, savoring a fine port, but generally not to cap off three glasses of wine and one of champagne.
