Grace was introduced to Lady Lavender Westcott, daughter of the Earl of Wembly, a lady also coming for her first season.
Grace was rather intimidated by Lady Lavender. She seemed to have everything going for her. Too much going for her, really. She was a lovely brunette, her dress was so well put together right down to the small gold cross round her elegant neck. And then her conversation! She was charming and the things she spoke of seemed to imply that she was an excellent dancer, an excellent horsewoman, and exceedingly well read.
Of course, Lady Lavender had not claimed any of those accolades. She was too perfect to have done anything of the sort. However, if one’s passion was for horses, one must be an excellent horsewoman. If one adored balls, one must be an excellent dancer. If one mentioned a whole slew of books recently read, one must be a very great reader.
Grace supposed Lady Lavender must be what Felicity had told her was a diamond of the first water. The lady who would have men bowing at her feet all season.
She certainly hoped Lord Dashlend would not be one among them.
“Shall we go through, Lady Grace?” Baron Montclave said.
Grace nodded and was led into the dining room. The lady at the head of the table was Mrs. Featherby. She had stood by Lord Doanellen at the door greeting guests and Grace had been introduced to her there. She had assumed, rather than been told, that Mrs. Featherby must be a sister to Lord Doanellen, but now that she was examining it, she was not entirely certain.
Wine glasses had been filled and the first course set on the table. “Baron Montclave,” she said, “is Mrs. Featherby a sister, or a cousin perhaps, to Lord Doanellen?”
This question, though Grace had thought it a very usual one, had set Lord Montclave fiddling with his napkin and taking a long draught of wine.
“A very good friend, is my understanding.”
That seemed odd. But then, Grace supposed that if one did not bring one’s wife to Town, and one did not have any close feminine relations to step in, perhaps it was not so strange to ask a family friend to act as hostess. In any case, her father was to the right of Mrs. Featherby and would likely find out all about it.
“How was your journey to Town?” the baron asked. “I understand you come from quite a distance.”
“Indeed, we do,” Grace said, comfortable in a subject she could speak credibly on. “We are very remote in the Dales. Our journey this year was somewhat extended. We took a rather roundabout route as my father wished to show us the sea.”
“It was your first time viewing it?”
Grace nodded. “What a sight! Of course, one knows what it looks like from pictures, but to see it with my own eyes was breathtaking. And it was ever so entertaining, too. Just as we arrived, we encountered Lord Dashlend. He’d just crashed his boat and was shipwrecked. Do you know Lord Dashlend?”
The baron nodded. “He is a cousin and our estates are neighboring in Norfolk.”
“Oh I see!” Grace said. That information felt like a piece of good luck. Lord Montclave would know Lord Dashlend very well. “We found him ever so charming. My father escorted Lord Dashlend and his valet to the inn where we were staying and he dined with us. And breakfasted with us too.”
“Breakfast too,” the baron said in a flat tone.
“I do suppose we will see him again soon,” Grace continued. “My father lent him clothes, you see. Because he was very wet. And then he comes to us for dinner on Tuesday next, though I suppose we will see him before then. To return the clothes.”
“Yes, certainly, to return the clothes.”
For some reason, Grace got the feeling that Lord Montclave was not as enthusiastic about Lord Dashlend as she was. How odd. It seemed a very strange thing that anybody in the world would not be enthusiastic regarding Lord Dashlend.
“We had the very good fortune, at that inn, to take possession of the most charming little dog. We named him Nelson, after Lord Nelson. I do believe Lord Dashlend was just as charmed as we were.”
“Was he now?” the baron asked.
“Yes, I do believe so,” Grace said.
The hostess had just turned to her other side, signaling to the diners that they ought to do the same. Grace smiled at the baron and turned to talk to Mr. Gerald Howard. He was the son of a viscount and hailed from Hertfordshire. He was a very pleasant gentleman and he further recommended himself by claiming an acquaintance with Lord Dashlend and naming him a fine fellow. According to Mr. Howard, Lord Dashlend was known in fencing circles as “the man with four arms,” so fast was he with a sword.
That was rather thrilling to hear. Naturally, had she been pressed to guess at it, she would have supposed that Lord Dashlend must be a very great sporting sort of gentleman. After all, she had first encountered him while sailing his own boat. Or shipwrecking his own boat, as the case was. Nevertheless, it was thrilling to imagine him disposing of opposing fencers so expediently that it seemed as if he had four arms.
The rest of the dinner proceeded in rather an odd fashion. At least, it seemed so to Grace, though it was the first she had attended in Town. Baron Montclave questioned her regarding what sort of state she had found Lord Dashlend in when she had encountered him at the seaside. Most particularly, had it seemed as if he’d swallowed any water. Then the baron had heavily hinted that he would not be opposed to being invited to the dinner on Tuesday next, which Grace dodged by claiming only her father had the authority to expand the guest list.
As if that were not strange enough, some of the diners really did consume too much wine. The party got very merry. And then perhaps more merry than it ought. There were some who seemed to forget that polite society was at table and loudly told jokes Grace was certain she ought not hear. Mrs. Featherby, the hostess, should have set the tone, but she seemed to join in on the merriment.
Mr. Howard said a few things in a joking manner that Grace did not altogether comprehend. Why Mrs. Featherby was to be known as a bird of paradise, she was sure she did not know. Was it because her dress was a trifle gaudy?
While it was a bit confusing to decide if all of it was usual, her biggest clue was her father. He was not as jovial as he might be expected to be.
