*
Cordelia had beenrather stung by Lord Harveston asking her if she’d bought sufficient bits and bobs from the village. It had struck her to mean that she was a silly creature who would be entirely entertained by ribbons and feathers.
Worse, she generallywasentertained by shopping for ribbons and feathers.
The way he’d said it had felt a bit…condescending. As if her mind were not capable of more than choosing between a blue or green ribbon.
She was cognizant of the fact that she was particularly sensitive at the current moment, as she had so recently come to the realization that she’d not got nearly as far in her studies as she thought she had.
Now, he’d taken her into dinner, which had been wholly unexpected. She guessed it must have been Lord Hamill’s arrangement somehow.
“Miss Mayton relayed the rest of the story regarding Mrs. Macklethorpe,” Lord Harveston said.
“Poor lady,” Cordelia said.
“Yes, indeed,” he said. “And I think not many ladies would have known it, as they would not have asked.”
Cordelia nodded. “I did of course wonder if it were my place to inquire.”
“No, no, that is not it,” Lord Harveston said. He looked rather intent and his tone was insistent. “That is not it at all. Not many ladies would have even noticed something was amiss.”
Cordelia wrinkled her brow just a little. “Anybody must have seen it.”
“No, I do not believe so. Furthermore, I do not think just anybody would have even looked. I am certain I would not have, and ashamed to admit it too.”
At the head of the table, the duchess turned, signaling all to turn to their other seatmate.
Lord Harveston looked almost stricken and reluctantly turned. Cordelia turned as well to speak to Lord Poppin.
She did not really hear much of what the lord said. Something about how the shore receded in the distance and a whale circled the ship and it seemed all was lost.
She was far too busy attempting to unravel what Lord Harveston had just said.
Cordelia could not entirely understand his intense interest in Mrs. Macklethorpe and her unfortunate loss, nor why he thought it was somehow singular that she and Miss Mayton had a conversation with the lady.
He did think it was something fine, though. That was clear enough.
It cheered her to think so. And after all, just because her studies had not been what she would wish up to this point, that could change. Could it not?
Of course it could. Now that she knew her habit of allowing her mind to wander and invent people who did not exist, she could fix that particular failing.
She could take in everything that had been done about the volcanoes and speak about it knowledgeably.
There really was not anything to prevent it but her own determination.
Further, should she not rise to the challenge? Lord Harveston was a noted intellectual, and now apparently he was a sailor and a boxer and a carriage racer.
If something were to come of whatever was between them, she must measure up.
“And so,” Lord Poppin said, “we barely made it out with our lives.”
“Goodness,” Cordelia said, feeling that comment was almost always sufficient when a gentleman relayed some sort of derring-do.
“What shall us men face on the morrow?” Lord Poppin mused. “The waves will not be as high as some I have faced, but the danger will be in so many boats near one another. Collisions, Lady Cordelia. Dangerous collisions.”
“Gracious,” Cordelia said, using the second preferred phrase in her arsenal of supposed admiration. She hoped she would not be pressed to use her third word, which was “heavens” because after that she had no more and Lord Poppin would be left adrift without further buoying up.
Privately, she was beginning to find Lord Poppin rather ridiculous and was not at all certain the stories he told were true.
