Balthazar had leda series of ladies through the sets. Some were rather tedious—nervous young ladies who seemed just out of the schoolroom. They were the ones Lady Jersey had pressed him to engage with. Any lady just coming into society must be shown to good effect at Almack’s.
Those particular ladies generally had mamas standing at the edges of the floor, watching like hawks wishing to spot a mouse on a field before swooping down. He was well aware that he was considered a high-value mouse and at least some of these poor young women had been lectured to make a good impression on him. One had even been told, apparently, to litter her speech with French phrases.
He assumed this was to showcase her fluency. Quelle belle soirée, indeed.
Some other dances were far more pleasant, being with ladies he would consider more well-met friends than anything else. Lady Worthington was particularly amusing, as she always had a sharp wit about her. Young widowhood had not seemed to dampen her spirit and it having been over a year since her lord had departed the world, she was now well out of mourning.
Lady Rosalind was his next partner, and he had hopes she would prove herself equally amusing. He supposed she must be considered among those just out of the schoolroom, but she did not seem so. And, rather than having a sharp-faced mama watching her every step, Lady Rosalind was chaperoned by the rather flighty Miss Mayton.
He smiled to himself as he compared Miss Mayton to the hawk-like mamas. The hawks were examining and measuring every action and expression—calculating chances and next moves. Miss Mayton, on the other hand, would only be cheerfully waving and rather oblivious. He was beyond amused that she had taken to wearing widow’s weeds to entertainments—Lady Jersey must have been entirely befuddled.
He collected Lady Rosalind from Lord Baderston, who appeared very struck by the lady. He’d even heard the fellow say, “I hope I encounter your family’s carriage in the park, Lady Rosalind.”
Lady Rosalind had smiled and nodded knowingly at the idea.
They had placed themselves near the top of the line and Balthazar said, “You seemed to have made quite the impression on Lord Baderston.”
He did not know why he said so. It was the sort of fishing expedition that he himself had often been subjected to and he never liked it. Still, he found he did wish to know her thoughts on Baderston.
“Well, I suppose I would have,” Lady Rosalind said, “he is a redhead and while he perhaps does not adore ham as much as one would hope, I believe he is determined to start adoring it.”
Balthazar was entirely nonplussed by her response. What did it mean?
“Am I to take it then, that youdoadore red hair and ham?” he asked.
“Not particularly,” Lady Rosalind said.
There was a pause, and a charming wrinkling of her forehead. Balthazar was hopeful that Lady Rosalind had perceived that he was entirely lost on her meaning. Or, perhaps she had heard herself and known anybody must be.
By way of clarification, she said, “You see, my sister, Viola, is quite set on a redhaired man and she happens to adore ham, but she is not out until next year. I just thought Lord Baderston should be apprised of it.”
Balthazar found himself strangely satisfied with the answer. “So you attempt a matchmaking?”
Lady Rosalind nodded.
“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “I had at first assumed you spoke of yourself.”
Lady Rosalind looked at him quizzically. “Certainly not,” she said. “Had I spoken of myself, I would have spoken of myownproclivities.”
It was their turn at the steps and Balthazar led her down the line. She was as graceful on the floor as her sister had been. Whoever the Benningtons’ dancing master was, he knew his business.
They returned to their places and Balthazar thought he’d better initiate some more usual conversation, beyond red hair and ham. “I have been told that all the young ladies these days are exceedingly fond of Fordyce,” he said, wondering what she would say about it.
“Reverend James Fordyce? The sermons?”
“I have been told they are popular,” Balthazar said. He would be very sorry if she praised them, or worse, if she quoted them.
Lady Rosalind laughed. “I think you might be shocked over what I think of them.”
“Then you do not agree with his ideas of modesty and meekness?” he asked, hopeful that she did not.
“Certainly not, they are absurd. Those like Wollstonecraft are forever pointing out their unfairness to women, and point taken but point also terribly obvious. I wonder why I never do hear of the unfairness to men. Do not you see? Fordyce has played a great joke on the gentlemen. He has led them to believe that they will wed some creature they might boss about. Particularly if they do not have sisters, they will be entirely fooled by Fordyce’s notions.”
So it wasmenwho were damaged by Fordyce’s advice? That was indeed an original take on it.
“And then, they find out they were very much mistaken and go racing back to the sermons to check they’d read them properly and, of course, they have. Now they are left to think they’d married the only lady on earth with her own opinions.”
Well, well.
