For one as taciturn as Scoldy-Breeches.
Juliet concluded her sophomoric effort and curtsied, amidst the roars of laughter from the gentlemen.
“Very funny, Juliet,” Matthew said. “Now perhaps Miss Mayton ought to escort you back to the schoolroom.”
“Oh no, Lord Van Doren,” Miss Mayton said from across the room, “I do not conduct school while we are in Town.”
“Truth be told, you have not conducted much schoolanywhere,” Matthew replied.
“You see the teasing relationship of old family friends,” Mr. Cahill said. “It is quite amusing.”
“Is it?” Matthew said.
“Well, Lady Juliet,” Mr. Cahill said, “you are not to fear. You will not have Lord Van Doren scolding you much longer. Not while he is pursued by so many interesting ladies.”
“Is that so, Lord Van Doren?” Lord Jericho asked.
“Certainly not,” Matthew said.
“So says the man of the hour always,” Sir William said. “Does not Conbatten do just the same? He pretends he does not see the ladies everywhere who have set their cap on him.”
Mr. Cahill nodded to confirm the idea.
Juliet said, “We have heard it said that Van Doren has got popular. We just have a hard time believing it. But then, Miss Mayton says all these ladies do not know him as we do.”
“Does she say that,” Matthew muttered.
“Mark me,” Mr. Cahill said, “the name Van Doren is just now on feminine lips all over Town.”
“I believe you have convinced me, gentlemen,” Beatrice suddenly put in. “I must add a love of poetry to my list of requirements.”
“Ah, Lady Beatrice,” Lord Dunston said, turning to her, “we have not even thoroughly examined the list—tell us of Robin Hood’s derring-do that you seek.”
And so the conversation went on in the stupidest manner possible. Each time Beatrice described one of her requirements, the gentlemen all made speeches about how it was as if she described him down to his shoes.
Sir William even went as far as to outline his derring-do in the face of losing both his valet and his housekeeper in the same month. Apparently, it was quite the trial of bravery and courage.
Matthew sat through all of it, until the four idiot gentlemen were forced to leave for the sake of propriety. Once he’d seen them all safely on their horses, he marched back to his house across the street.
He felt as if all the world had agreed to a collective madness but had chosen to leave him out of it.
*
As Lynette helpedher into her dress, Beatrice thought about the scenes that had transpired in the drawing room earlier in the day. There was so little she kept from her sisters or her aunt, but she had not wished to discuss it in any detail.
Van Doren had come crashing in as usual, just when she was enjoying listing her requirements and wondering if her tortured gentleman was even then watching the house from afar.
It was bad enough that he’d pushed in, but then to hear Mr. Cahill speak of him! Van Doren was to rival Conbatten. His name was to be on feminine lips everywhere.
Could it really be so?
She had a great need to unburden herself, and Lynette had been her and Rosalind’s maid for years.
“Lynette,” she said, as her maid fussed with the hem of the dress, “Mr. Cahill says that there are many ladies in Town who are wild for Van Doren. What do you think of that?”
Beatrice noticed, a little uncomfortably, that she was hoping Lynette would pronounce it utterly impossible.
“Hmm,” Lynette said, “of course, he is no Conbatten. We’re all terribly in love with the duke below stairs. Fleur even says it would not be impossible for him to wed a lady’s maid. She says stranger things have happened, though Mr. Tattleton says a stranger thing has certainly never happened.”
