“Mr. Vance,” she said, hardly above a whisper, “I have encouraged Lady Rembly. I was certain you would see the sense… why do you not see the sense?”
“The sense?” Harry asked. “What sense could there possibly be in chaining oneself to a lady who is often drunk, and even sober is of vile temperament? Miss Rightstone will not marry until she encounters a gentleman entirelylackingin sense.”
“But—”
“There is no ‘but’ or ‘however’ or ‘though,’” Harry said firmly.
The duchess stared hard at her teacup and Harry was all but certain she was looking for a way out of the mess she had created through her own highhandedness.
“Now listen,” she said, “Lady Rembly cannot take in this news all at once. In one blow, as it were. She is a rather nervous creature, particularly on this subject. It must dawn on her slowly while I try to…dig up somebody else. Do come to the ball and take Miss Rightstone into supper.”
Harry had been on the verge of saying no when another idea came to him. “I’ll do as you ask, if you do not mind me taking a dance with Lady Isabel.”
“Lady Isabel?” the duchess said with a small laugh. “I’ll leave that up to her. I should warn you though, she has very high aspirations. A barony, anewbarony, well, it will not do at all. She’s said so quite decisively.”
“Yes, she’s told me all about it,” Harry said.
“Has she?” the duchess said, nodding approvingly. “Excellent. Again, I leave her choice of dance partners up to her. She is nothing if not filled with good sense. You will come, though?”
“Very well.”
He did not know precisely what he would say to Miss Rightstone, but if the duchess and her mother had been putting ideas in her head that must be corrected.
Miss Rightstone had made vague references about things like what a husband should know about her. But that did not signify, she did that with every gentleman she could corner.
For a while, she’d been on the hunt for Ryland with the same sort of nonsense. Two years ago, she’d handed Blackwood a list of things she liked that he could study at his leisure. She’d even tried it out on Bertridge, enumerating what she would require from a husband, though that had only been one time. The look of consternation on Bertridge’s face would have been enough to penetrate even Miss Rightstone’s less than perceptive mind.
Further, was it not his duty to rescue Lady Isabel from a life wasted with Lymington? Even though she did not appear to wish to be rescued?
He rather thought it was.
In the meantime, the duchess had very helpfully outlined her plans for the following day. While he could not fathom where she was to go looking for a Plantagenet-worthy bonnet, he knew perfectly well where Rundell and Bridge and her fabulous tiara were located.
Perhaps he would take his horse out on the morrow, in the vicinity of 32 Ludgate Hill.
*
Carlson had forsome days now felt a sense of impending doom. He knew the cause perfectly well, as it had happened to him more than a few times over the years.
The duchess was at risk of experiencing a disappointment.
His mistress had her mind firmly made up that Lady Isabel and Lord Lymington were to be a match. A brilliant match, secured by her own hand.
And yet, Carlson could not avoid what he’d seen at the dinner.
First, Lady Isabel had taken Mr. Vance as Lord Lymington. Then, the looks between those two people at table. If Mr. Vance was not staring at Lady Isabel, then Lady Isabel was sneaking glances at Mr. Vance.
It was perhaps not ideal that the chosen partners for those two people were less than compelling. Why could not Lord Lymington look a little less rumpled and why could he not talk of anything but horses? Why could not Miss Rightstone just stop talking, period? The lady was comely, but once she spoke, well, it was rather unfortunate.
It was also unfortunate how many times she gave the footmen meaningful looks, no doubt wishing her wine glass to be refilled.
Whatwasfortunate, he supposed, was that he’d already directed his footmen to ignore her hints. This was not the first time he’d served Miss Rightstone at dinner and on no account should Mr. Vance witness just how off the track she could go. Not on his watch, at least.
He really felt that Lady Isabel had no interest in Lord Lymington and Mr. Vance had no interest in Miss Rightstone.
Why could not they all cooperate with his duchess? Did they not understand how little she favored being crossed? Did they not know that the lady’s elevated place in the world prevented her from perceiving that she was in peril of a disappointment?
He was very afraid this circumstance would be similar to when the duchess had not become Queen Charlotte’s Mistress of the Robes, though she had fully expected to. Rather, she had lost out to the Marchioness of Bath.
