Further, every time he glanced into a looking glass and noted his black eye, he wanted to pound Landon into the ground. He could not allow his temper to make a reappearance.
He’d be far better off at home with a book and a brandy. Perhaps he might actually read the book that had been in his hands all day long.
“Yes, of course, the ladies will come if I ask. It is most upsetting, though!” Lady Easton said, just now wringing her hands with more vigor than Richard had ever remembered witnessing.
The door was opened and Lord Easton strolled in. “My dear, how do you do this day? Still reeling from last night, I suppose. Richard, I’m sure your eye looks better than yesterday. How is Caroline?” he asked.
“She is fine,” Lady Easton said. “Oh, Easton, you’ll never believe. The Regent has sent me what amounts to an order to bring Caroline to his wretched ball!”
“I see,” Lord Easton said with equanimity. “Yes, I did say you did not plan on going. How funny that he would have written you about it.”
Lady Easton looked at her lord as if he had just dropped from the sky. “Funny? Easton, I do not know what has happened to you recently, but I do not like it. I do not find it altogether fair to be married to one gentleman and then suddenly another takes his place. What next? Will you dye your hair black like Lady Redfield’s dead baron?”
Lord Easton laughed heartily. “Considering how little I have of it, that would really be amusing. It really would. Alvanley would be delighted to joke about it. What might he say? I’ll think of it. Perhaps…no, I never can think of something. Alvanley would though, I’m sure of it! He’d find wit in my wisps! Wait, now that was almost witty, I think.”
With that, Lord Easton helped himself to a biscuit and looked entirely pleased with the world.
His wife and his nephew seemed a bit less so.
*
Though dawn hadcertainly come, it would not be apparent from the window. It was a dark and grey blustery day with intermittent downpours. Caroline was very afraid the duchess’ butler would rue his prediction of fine and warm weather. Whatever was the case, the sea bathing would need to be put off once more.
Though Caroline was fit as a fiddle, she’d had breakfast sent to her room. She must face Lord Bertridge eventually, but she did not feel up to seeing him in the breakfast room this morning. Despite the fact that she would not go sea bathing this morning, she was beginning to feel more cheerful. It seemed that she would go to the Regent’s ball after all. She was certain Lord Bertridge would disapprove and she did not want whatever burgeoning equanimity she was developing to be shaken.
She was hoping that Bemmy would come to tell her he’d left the house, as her maid did keep a rather sharp eye on him these days.
The night before, Lady Easton had come into her room to tell her of the Regent’s invitation, seeming more like she announced a funeral than anything else. Of course, Caroline realized that the lady had not wished to attend, but apparently the Regent had insisted.
In any case, she would go!
The door flew open and Bemmy barreled through it. “You’ll never believe it, but the duchess is downstairs and she won’t be put off. Lady Easton says it’s ridiculous weather to attempt the sea but the duchess says it doesn’t matter that it’s raining as you’ll both get wet anyway and her butler says the weather will clear in no time at all. That butler’s got feathers for brains, if you ask me.”
“Goodness,” Caroline said. “We are really to attempt it?”
“So says the duchess and it seems Lady E has been run over by the woman’s determination.”
“I’d better change then. I expect she will not like waiting.”
“I expect you’re right. She strikes me as the toe-tapping kind,” Bemmy said, hurrying to the wardrobe. She pulled out what she was looking for and said, “I’m to accompany you, but don’t expect me to get in that water. Mrs. Gunn or no, I wouldn’t like to be swept out to sea.”
“Nor would I,” Caroline said, feeling the smallest bit of trepidation.
Bemmy was tearing through clothes to find what she was looking for and throwing things on the bed.
“Oh Bemmy!” Caroline cried. “I just realized I do not know the proper operation. Do I wear my regular clothes and then change in the bathing machine, or do I prepare myself here?”
“It’s done both ways, but the duchess ain’t going in for changing outfits, she’s got an oil skin cap on, she’s in her bathing pelisse, and I saw the sight of a shift peeking out at the bottom. That’s what you’ll be wanting to do. I’ll pack a dry shift in a bag and then when you come out, that’s when you change.”
Caroline nodded as Bemmy helped her into one of the shifts that Mrs. Bell had specifically made for bathing. It was a plain brown cotton and, like her walking dresses, it had light weights sewn into the bottom of the garment. These weights were smaller and fewer—just heavy enough to counteract the seawater. This would prevent the material from floating up around her.
Its corset was lightweight and not at all binding. The pelisse that would go over top of all was a light silk, long and voluminous, covering everything from her neck to her ankles. Special shoes had been made—very light but with a hard sole and firmly buckled round the ankle and instep so that they could not be swept off.
“Have I got everything?” Caroline said, as Bemmy buckled her shoes.
“Everything but a cap, which you don’t need anyway. I’ve pinned your hair up tight enough and the salt water does wonders for a lady’s hair. I’m surprised the duchess don’t know it.”
“We’d better go down,” Caroline said.
