Cordelia nodded vigorously. “It is all right, I know what I must do. Now that I know my own proclivity for mind wandering, I must just use discipline to stop it.”
“I see, yes, that does sound very good. You girls are always so clever.”
“I only wish I had more time to do it! I wish I had realized this when I began my studies.”
Miss Mayton tapped her chin. “It seems to me, now that you have set your course, you might rightly claim your destination. After all, you know where you are going, I see no reason you might not act as if you are already there.”
Cordelia shrugged. “I believe that is what I have been doing in mentioning the Royal Society paper on volcanoes. Thank goodness I was not asked a slew of questions, as I remember little about the actual facts of it.”
“Yes, but there is one thing you have not considered,” Miss Mayton said. “You are an actress, Cordelia. In your heart and soul, you are a born actress. Take on the part, really throw yourself into it.Bethe intellectual, as if you were treading the hallowed boards.”
Cordelia looked inquiringly at her aunt.
“As a beginning, perhaps you might stage a bit of a tableau for Lord Harveston to view.”
“A tableau?” Cordelia asked.
“Oh yes,” Miss Mayton said, seeming as if she were bursting with an idea. “What if I were to go and get my reading glasses? You might perch them on your nose. And then, there are several heavy tomes on that bookshelf there, one of which must be suitably intellectual. You might casually walk by Lord Harveston’s view, glasses on nose and book in hand.”
“I see, Aunt. A tableau!”
*
As Percival listenedto Lord Poppin drone on about his alleged adventure at sea, which now included a whale though no whale had been present in the version told earlier in the day, he could not be opposed to the fellow.
Was there any other gentleman at table who could have been more preferred as Lady Cordelia’s other dinner companion?
No, Poppin had been perfect in his ludicrousness and could only raise Percival’s estimation in Lady Cordelia’s eyes.
What a conversation he and Lady Cordelia had! He thought he’d begun to understand how Lady Cordelia’s mind worked. At least, the overarching framework of it.
He had thought it quite usual to carefully curate those let into one’s sphere using cautious consideration over time as a yardstick. His own sphere had been defended by a veritable moat, with murder holes manned with archers—always at the ready to pull up the drawbridge.
Lady Cordelia’s worldly sphere was very different. Her castle gates were thrown open and absolutely anybody might walk through them—welcomed as a friend until proven otherwise.
This, he supposed, was the real thing one gained from a family such as the Benningtons. It was a blithe confidence in the good of the world.
When one was not so caught up with defending the castle, one might notice a person such as Mrs. Macklethorpe.
He’d already determined he would do something for the lady. Percival would send Jameston into the village and offer to pay the local schoolmaster to provide a service. If Mrs. Macklethorpe could be taught to manage her own books, she would proceed on firm footing.
“And so,” Lord Poppin said, downing his port, “we barely escaped with our lives.”
“Yes, a whale, they can be dastardly,” the duke said, rising. “Well gentlemen, we should not keep the ladies waiting longer. In any case, it ought to be an early night for our sailors—a regatta awaits.”
Percival had notneeded to be told twice that port was at an end and the ladies were to be joined. He smiled as he thought that even the duke, genial as he was, had heard enough of Lord Poppin’s alarming sea voyage.
He entered the drawing room, searching it for Lady Cordelia. She was not at the pianoforte, nor did she sit with the cluster of ladies round a teapot.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her.
She had just come from a bookshelf set to the side of the drawing room doors. The lady carried what looked to be an exceedingly heavy book and had glasses perched on her nose.
He had not known she wore glasses, but then so many people did for close reading he supposed he should not be surprised.
She looked rather charming in them. He could picture her wearing them by his fireside on a cold afternoon, curled up with a book or magazine.
As she made her way forward, Lord Poppin somehow came round him and said, “Ah! Lady Cordelia wishes to read.”
