Cordelia had the uncomfortable feeling of her heart speeding up, and at the same time wishing to push Miss Bretherton under the sideboard.
“Lord Harveston, this is Miss Bretherton,” Lady Hightower said. “An exceedingly accomplished young lady—I defy anyone to best her knowledge of Royal Society papers.”
Now the woman was reading Royal Society papers? Where did one even get Royal Society papers? What was in them? She had heard of the society, of course. It was yet another learned group raising questions and attempting to answer them. What the questions were, she had not the slightest idea.
Cordelia supposed she should be grateful that she at least knew what it was. When she had first heard of it, she had assumed it was a newspaper dedicated to reporting on the king and queen. Her father had corrected her when she asked how they might get a copy.
“You might even think of extending an invitation to your literary salon after she has married and can move about society freely,” Lady Hightower said. “Naturally, the bishop could escort her now, as he is equally learned, but the gentleman is so busy with his duties I doubt it would suit. Even this evening, I have been tasked with acting as Miss Bretherton’s chaperone. Ah, more guests arrive, I will leave you to it.”
Lady Hightower drifted away. Cordelia watched Lord Harveston to see how he would react to this womanly paragon of information.
“Very good to know you, Miss Bretherton,” Lord Harveston said. “Lady Cordelia, Miss Mayton, I trust you have recovered from the first meeting of the acting troupe?”
“Perhaps the better question is,” Cordelia said boldly, “haveyourecovered, Lord Harveston?”
“Not entirely,” he said with a laugh.
“Acting troupe?” Miss Bretherton asked, her tone faintly shocked.
Cordelia found herself annoyed over the lady’s shock, as if she were inventing it to seem more principled or delicate or…something.
“Yes,” she said, “My aunt and I are both actresses. We will tread the boards on the sixteenth inOthello Redux. Desdemona lives, by the by.”
Miss Bretherton appeared further shocked, though Lord Harveston was clearly amused. He said, “Perhaps more of a clarification is in order. My aunt, Lady Rawley, puts on a theatrical every year in her private house and by invitation.”
This information seemed to soothe the delicate sensibilities of Miss Bretherton. Her brow cleared. “Ah, I see. My father has often let his children perform scenes from the bible for close friends and family. Tableaus, if you will.”
Tableaus from the bible, indeed. Cordelia was certain she was just as religious as the next person—she gave her full attention to the Lord when she was in church. But there was no reason to go making tableaus about it. She was certain that Miss Bretherton’s tableaus were insufferable.
“We will have a swordfight,” Cordelia said, “right in Lady Rawley’s drawing room.”
“We are hoping for a lot of blood,” Miss Mayton put in helpfully.
As Cordelia observed Miss Bretherton’s reaction to the idea of hoping for a lot of blood, which was predictably shuddering, a hulking sort of a man slapped Lord Harveston’s back.
“Harveston!” he said in a rather booming voice.
Lord Harveston turned. “Jeffries,” he said, “when did you get back?”
So this was Mr. Jeffries. Of course, she should have known it instantly. He was powerfully built, and his arms did likely cause his tailor to despair over how to encase them.
“I landed a month ago,” Mr. Jeffries said. “Had to go to my father’s estate and see it ticking along smooth before I commenced spending all his money in Town.”
“I will introduce you to Lady Cordelia Bennington, Miss Mayton, and Miss Bretherton.”
Mr. Jeffries bowed. “Ladies. Charmed. I suppose we will hear from all of you this evening?”
Miss Mayton was terribly flattered by the idea. She laughed and said, “Only the young ladies, sir.”
“Then I cannot believe you will not be among them,” Mr. Jeffries said gallantly.
“You are a flirt, sir!” Miss Mayton said, tapping him on the arm with her fan.
It was such a charming scene, and Cordelia could not imagine why Miss Bretherton had just grimaced.
“Now, what will we hear from Lady Cordelia and Miss Bretherton?” Mr. Jeffries asked.
“I will be on the pianoforte,” Cordelia said, “and play something short. My sisters have all told me that an audience always does like it short.”
