The lady is pleasant
Her hair very red
The charms of a pheasant
That has been well-fed
There is no ‘be quiet’
That I have heard
Just the gentle diet
Of a new hatched bird
Yes, indeed. It was perfectly ghastly.
“All right,” Harry said, “I’ve managed to work in the images of birds, which is just what you’ll want to say.”
“Birds?”
“Yes, birds,” Harry said. “They communicate interest and fidelity. Pheasants, in particular, represent the home’s hearth and new-hatched birds speak of new love. Both of those are always very popular ideas with ladies.”
Lymington rubbed his chin. “Who knew?”
Who indeed.
“Clever of you to whip out a whole poem like that. Now what do I do?” Lymington asked.
“Sign it and send it to Lady Isabel. She will be positively bowled over.”
As Lymington signed that monstrosity of pointless verbiage, Harry thought if that did not put her off him, nothing would.
*
The duchess hadcalled an emergency meeting ofThe Society of Sponsoring Ladiesand she had gone so far as to commandeer Lady Featherstone’s drawing room. This was not terribly unusual, as the duchess looked upon any drawing room she was in as practically her own.
She had decided not to call the ladies to her own house, as she did not wish Isabel to be aware that anything was amiss.
After they were all gathered round Lady Featherstone’s tea tray, sans only Lady Easton who continued on at her nephew’s estate, they looked expectantly at the duchess.
“As you know,” she said, “I have set my mind to a match between Lord Lymington and Lady Isabel. It is to be a glorious marriage of two houses—one a dukedom, and the other The House of Plantagenet.”
“Your expression just now does not convince me that all runs smooth in that direction,” Lady Heathway said, with perhaps the tiniest note of glee.
“It does not,” the duchess said. “There is somebody attempting to get in my way.”
“Goodness,” Lady Redfield said, appearing as startled as if she had been just accused of it. “Who would dare it?”
“Mr. Vance, that is who would dare it,” the duchess said, her tone a veritable deep freeze.
“Oh, Mr. Vance, I feel sorry for him sometimes,” Lady Featherstone said. “You know, tradesman grandfather and all that. He is very pleasant though.”
“I found myself next to him at your dinner, Theodosia,” Lady Heathway said. “He provided more rational conversation than I had expected. He has some educated views on the development of children.”
“Oh, children!” Lady Mendleton nearly cried. “Did I say that Daisy speaks in sentences now? She tried to call me grandmama, but I said, dear Daisy, I do findBwandbabaso charming. Call me that, as you always have done.”
The duchess looked around at her friends with nothing short of incredulity. It seemed to her, and not for the first time, that if there were a way to get off track, they’d all be racing toward it as fast as possible.
